Page 4 of The Marquess’s Stolen Bride (Dukes Gone Dirty #3)

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T he Earl of Foster was a stoic sort of man, so to see Benedict gaping and speechless was quite the sight. “So, to be clear…”

He paused, and Raff finished for him. “You’re actually going to marry the girl.”

The duke followed with an arch of his brows, his eyes filled with disbelief.

Hayden looked to Malcolm, who was slouched down in the armchair beside his, looking as exhausted as he felt. Malcolm shrugged.

Hayden glanced back to the two men who were standing in front of him…still gaping.

“I don’t see that I have much of a choice, do you?” He’d meant for a jesting tone but it merely sounded tired.

Because he was tired. He was so bloody tired.

He’d led his new fiancée— fiancée! He still couldn’t quite believe it—down the stairs, to find Malcolm arguing with two footmen at the front door, demanding to be let in. He’d taken one look at Hayden, a longer, far more startled glance at the half-dressed beauty at his side, and had led the way back to his chaise.

On the ride back to Malcolm’s home, they’d come up with a plan. A temporary fix, at least, as the poor girl had sat there staring at them in wide-eyed silence.

Malcolm had been shockingly sensible once he’d digested the fact that the lovely but unkempt woman in his carriage was to be Hayden’s wife. They’d agreed Hayden couldn’t take her to his home. Not yet. Not until they were married. Malcolm had offered to house her until then.

Through it all, his bride-to-be had remained silent except to answer when he asked her name, and again to confirm that she was, in fact, the earl’s daughter.

The moment they’d arrived at Malcolm’s townhome in Mayfair, Malcolm had called for Vivian, who’d come downstairs with her hair down and asking blessedly few questions. She’d taken one look at Madeline, tsked softly, and had used the gentlest voice Hayden had ever heard when she’d told Madeline to follow her to her new room.

He supposed she was there now. He’d heard servants bustling about and a bath being ordered…

It was the dead of night, but this household was alive with activity as they prepared for their new houseguest.

“I’m sorry to call you out of your beds at this hour,” Hayden said.

His friends just stared.

Truthfully, it had been Malcolm who’d insisted they send for Raff and Benedict. He’d seemed to think they might know how best to handle this new turn of events. But by the looks of it, they were just as rattled by it all as he and Malcolm were.

“What were you thinking when you climbed up there?” Benedict finally asked.

Hayden shrugged.

“He’d been drinking,” Malcolm said by way of explanation.

“Ah, of course.” Raff crossed his arms, looking every bit the arrogant duke. “So, you went up there without a plan and?—”

“I didn’t think I’d need a plan,” he said. “I honestly didn’t really believe she’d be there. I mean, a maid in a tower?” He shook his head, eyes wide as he threw his hands out. “It sounded like fiction.”

“And yet you went up there anyway,” Benedict pointed out.

Malcolm’s voice was droll. “He called it his quest. One last grand adventure before he chose his bride or some such nonsense.”

Hayden was too used to his friends’ mockery to be overly irritated now. And besides, they were right to mock him. It had been a foolish whim. An imbecilic dare that had been brought on by his own big mouth at the gaming hell.

“The good news is,” Malcolm continued. “You undoubtedly won the wager.”

Hayden grunted in rueful amusement. “Wonderful.”

“I certainly hope you won a fortune in exchange for marrying some woman you don’t even know,” Raff said.

“Was she really a prisoner up there?” Benedict asked. His voice had always been low, but ever since the fire that had left scars all across his neck and the left side of his face, his voice had a raspy quality to it that made him sound more grim than ever.

Hayden nodded. He couldn’t bring himself to make a glib remark on that front. He wasn’t sure he’d ever forget the sight he’d first beheld. The girl was frighteningly frail. All skin and bones before she’d covered herself. And there’d been bruises along with those dark circles under her eyes and the even darker emotions in her gaze.

He’d seen more fear and courage in the eyes of that dark-haired slip-of-a-lady than he’d ever seen in his whole life.

“What for?” Raff asked, his brows drawn together in confusion. “Was she born on the wrong side of the blanket?”

Hayden shrugged.

Raff arched a brow, his eyes sharp and alert. “Do you not know or do you not care?”

“Both,” he shot back. “It makes no difference. I’m marrying her either way.”

That had all three of his friends staring at him again.

He scrubbed a hand over his gritty eyes. “Can we talk about this in the morning? I’m ready to keel over at the moment.”

“Stay here tonight,” Malcolm said. “We’ll ready a room so you don’t have to go home. The girl is in a stranger’s house. She might feel better knowing her fiancé is here as well.”

He let out a humorless chuckle. “You seem to forget that I’m a stranger to her just as much as you are.”

“Yes,” Benedict said slowly. “But you’re the stranger she’s to marry.” His gaze was narrowed and dark. “Do not take that lightly, old friend. She’s placing her safety and her very life in your hands for the keeping.”

Hayden opened his mouth, ready to retort with a quip—but it withered and died on his tongue.

A heavy weight settled on his chest, and he found himself absently rubbing his ribcage as he tried to take in the enormity of what he’d done.

She was his now. His to take care of.

He waited for panic to set in. After all, he’d put off marriage all these years for a reason. He loved his freedom, and he’d never met a woman he could trust enough that he’d give that up for her. Besides, his father had hardly set a good example with the women he’d chosen.

But the panic never came. If anything, he just felt…tired. Tired but resolved, and content, and…

Maybe even a little excited about what was to come next.

“You two can stay here tonight as well, if you’d like,” Malcolm was saying to the others. “I do hate that we dragged you over here so late.”

“As if we’d miss this news,” Raff chuckled.

Hayden leaned forward. “Actually, there was another reason we wanted you here.”

Malcolm nodded. “That’s right. We need to acquire a special license for our friend here.” He looked to Hayden who nodded. They’d briefly discussed this before Raff and Benedict had arrived.

“I need a special license, but with a minimum of questions. Or explanations.” He winced. “Not for my sake, you know, but…” His gaze slid toward the doorway and the staircase beyond where he’d last seen Madeline disappear.

“Of course,” Raff said. “The sooner you marry her the better.”

Benedict scowled. “We’ll have to discuss what story to tell.”

He meant in society. How to account for this new lady who would now be a marchioness. How to excuse her absence all these years. And how to explain their meeting.

Benedict, Raff, and Malcolm all looked to him.

“Tomorrow,” he said. “That’s a matter we ought to discuss with the lady herself, and she needs her rest. We all do.”

Everyone agreed to this.

“Will you stay?” Malcolm asked.

“I shouldn’t,” Raff said. “Evangeline will be worried if I’m gone too long.”

“Yes, and Philippa will be beside herself waiting to hear the latest news.”

They all exchanged a knowing look.

Malcolm spoke first. “Something tells me Hayden’s fiancée is going to have several visitors tomorrow.”

Hayden’s fiancée . Something shifted and settled at the sound of it. His shoulders went back and his spine straightened. This new responsibility didn’t feel like the dreaded weight he’d thought it would be.

More like…an honor. His purpose.

“Good,” he said when he realized the others were watching him. “I don’t know much about her life in that home, but I’m certain she could use friends.”

“In that case,” Raff said. “We shall bring our wives when we come to call tomorrow.”

He and Benedict exchanged a look.

“After we’ve called on the archbishop about that license,” Benedict added.

“Good, good.” Hayden nodded, his head starting to throb now that the last of the alcohol had left his system.

Vivian arrived in the hallway just as Benedict and Raff were taking their leave.

“Madeline, is she…” Hayden started and stopped. “Is she well?”

Vivian’s smile was rueful. “As well as can be expected. She did not say much to me or her maid, aside from expressing her gratitude.”

“She’s in her bedroom now,” she said, her gaze on Hayden.

“May I…” His throat felt too dry, his chest too tight. “May I see her before…before I retire?”

Her lips twitched, and all three of his friends were staring at him like they’d never seen him before. “Certainly. I’ll go with you and make sure she’s still awake.”

And if she wishes to see you.

That much was left unspoken. Vivian really was too kind. Nerves made him restless and tense as they left the others, and he slipped into the library and snagged a book of poetry so he wouldn’t be emptyhanded when he saw her.

When they approached Madeline’s closed door, Vivian knocked and then slipped inside, closing the door behind her.

A moment later, she reappeared.

Hayden hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until Vivian smiled and told him to go on in.

“I won’t keep her long,” he murmured as he passed.

He walked in slowly, afraid of startling her, but she was sitting upright in bed and staring over at him.

He smiled, hoping it would put her at ease. Then he walked over to the side of the bed and sank down beside her.

She didn’t shrink away from him, but she didn’t return his smile either.

Time. It would take time, that was all. She’d have to learn how to trust him, just as he trusted her.

The thought knocked him upside the head. Did he trust her? He supposed he had no reason to, but even less reason not to. After all, he’d been the one to get her into this situation. She hadn’t trapped him.

“Do you have everything you need?” he asked.

“Yes.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “Lady Fallenmore was most generous.”

She looked down at the silk wrap that covered her in place of that pale, tattered cotton rag she’d been wearing.

His palms were clammy as he tried to find words to soothe her. His grip tightened on the book in his hands as he held it out to her. “I thought perhaps…” He cleared his throat. “When I’m troubled, I find reading calms the mind.”

Truthfully, it was whiskey that typically calmed his mind, but he’d heard reading was a good distraction as well.

Her eyes widened a bit and her lips parted. He thought she might speak, but then she clamped her lips shut and took the book from his hands. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Another silence fell between them.

“Madeline, I just wanted to say…” He stopped.

What?

Sorry for falling through your window?

Thank you for coming away with me?

He cleared his throat. “I just wanted to say goodnight.”

She smiled, and he felt his insides tilt before repositioning themselves.

She truly was beautiful. Too thin, perhaps, and her cheeks were too hollow. But she had wide, dark eyes, delicate features, and thick dark curls that were now damp and loose around her shoulders.

She was gorgeous, and…and she was his.

The thought was so very humbling, he couldn’t bring himself to be charming or clever.

But the silence was stretching too long, and she looked like she might fall over with exhaustion. He reached out slowly, pausing when she flinched. He let his hand drop on top of hers and smoothed a thumb over the back of her hand, feeling an awareness stir at that slight contact.

This woman would be his wife.

He swallowed thickly. “Get some rest,” he said, forcing himself to move away. To get far away from her before he gave into temptation and kissed those lush lips. “We’ll have much to discuss in the morning, but for now, please know that you are safe and…cared for.”

Her brows arched slightly in surprise.

Truthfully, he’d surprised himself.

“I’ll be near if you need anything,” he said.

She lifted a hand. “Goodnight, my lord.”

“Hayden,” he corrected. “And goodnight.”