Page 35 of What A Rogue Wants (Lords Of Deception #1)

Twenty-One

Madelaine rapped softly on the door to her father’s cell.

“Father,” she whispered. Nerves were making her jumpy.

She glanced over her shoulder to ensure she didn’t see the flickering light of a torch guiding the guard downstairs.

She doubted she had more than ten minutes before he returned to his post with the blanket she’d demanded and realized he’d been duped.

And then what? Would he immediately check the dungeon?

She knocked a little harder as cold sweat trickled down her back and dampened her underarms. “Father!” She was more worried now the guard would return before she was back than being overheard.

The sound of shuffling feet reached her from under the door. She slumped against the wood. Inhaling a deep breath, she forced herself to straighten and clutched tightly around the dagger she’d stolen.

“Madelaine?” Her father’s face appeared at the small, barred window. His dark eyes locked on her. I told you to make your way home, girl.”

“Why did you betray the king?” She blinked at the useless tears filling her eyes. “I’ll gladly give my life to save you, Father, but I deserve to know why I might die.”

“Silly, girl.” His voice was low and soothing. “Come closer.”

She pressed her cheek to the bar where he stretched his fingers between the iron railings. He traced softly over her cheek before cupping her chin. “You’re not going to die and neither am I, as long as you do what I say. Do you believe me?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Good. Have you heard any whispers at Court about the king?”

Despite knowing they were alone, she scanned the shadows and dark corners. “I’ve heard he has dark spells where he forgets himself, who he is. Some say he’s going mad. Just gossip.”

Her father curled his fingers tighter around her chin.

She jerked away. “You hurt me,” she accused, rubbing at her skin.

“I’m sorry.” He gripped the bars. “It’s not gossip. The king is going mad.”

“You’ve seen it?” She couldn’t repress the shiver that raced across her skin.

“Several times. The paper the king accused me of stealing was one where not only did he write that an angel came to him and told him he needed to execute his cabinet because they’re trying to overthrow him, but he also wrote things he planned for the army to do against Napoleon.

If that paper ever fell into the wrong hands it could be England’s downfall.

England’s enemies are constantly sending people into our midst to steal our secrets.

The king is sick. He’s a danger to England.

I stole his paper when he refused to burn it.

I knew then someone had to stop him, and none of the other fools who surround him are willing to risk his wrath. ”

“You risk your life.”

“Yes, I do. For England, I risk it all.”

Reluctant relief filled her. He’d done what he had because he wanted to protect England. He wanted only to help the king.

“Maddie, with the king’s madness he wrote about angels and executions; that paper is the proof the prince needs to become regent.

Once the king is proven a danger to England, they’ll have to let the prince rule.

Get the paper and take it to the prince.

I would have done it right away, but the prince was abroad.

He’ll recognize the king’s writing and know that his father cannot be trusted with England’s secrets.

The prince should be back from his travels any day.

Give it to him. Only to him. Do you understand? ”

She frowned. “I do, but is he so mad then? Are you and the prince not trying to put him off his throne?”

Her father rattled the bar. “To protect him. To protect England. Will you help me?”

Her heartbeat strummed in her ears. “Why did you say earlier to trust no one? Surely—”

The pounding of footsteps cut off her question.

She jerked toward the stairs. Light flooded the entrance to the small room.

Too late. It was too late to flee. She scanned the small room.

On shaking legs, she raced over to the dark corner and ran her hands over the cold stone.

There was no space wide enough to wedge herself in.

Hysteria made her heart thump painfully and her skin tingle as if needles stuck her at once all over.

Light illuminated the shadowy room and obscured the face of the man holding the torch.

Digging her nails into the stone and pressing herself as flat as she could, she held her breath.

Maybe the guard wouldn’t notice her in the corner.

She’d been lucky not to stutter earlier when lying.

She’d never been lucky twice. Her father babbled words at the man, but fear made it impossible for Madelaine to concentrate.

For one breathless second, hope filled her.

The guard had been easy to dupe into thinking she was a whore who offered herself to him for coin.

Maybe her father could get him to leave.

The torch lowered, and her hope disappeared.

Grey’s older brother Lord Ashford stared at her with cold eyes.

His lips thinned as he advanced toward her.

Her heart hammered to a deafening roar and without consideration, she raised her dagger and flung it at him.

He jerked to the left, but not fast enough.

Her dagger stuck in his left shoulder. With a roar, he bent his head to rip out the dagger.

She sprang for the stairs. He caught her on the fifth step, jerked her hard against his chest and locked his arm around her waist. He hefted her off the ground.

She flailed, her feet dangling in front of her.

Above her, the pounding of frantic footsteps on stone rushed toward them. She refused to give up. Rearing her head back, she connected with Lord Ashford’s nose. A sickening crunch followed. He dropped her and she scrambled on the slimy steps.

Could she reach the next level before Lord Ashford caught her? She had to find a way out. The light came toward her quicker than her trembling legs would go. Five seconds until she was captured maybe.

The light robbed her of the ability to see. Blinded, she reached forward, when hands grasped her. Terror seized her voice.

“I’ve got you,” Grey whispered as he flung her over his broad shoulder. “Where do you need to go? How can I help?”

“My home,” she mumbled, wilting against him, too exhausted to explain and too desperate to refuse.

Grey held Madelaine tightly against him as he drove them deep into the woods.

Doubt tore through him, making him numb.

Was she traitor or victim? A picture of her frantic face illuminated by the eerie glow of the torches in the tower filled his head.

She was running, that much was for certain.

But from what? Was she running to save her own life because she was guilty of treason or was she running because she was innocent and her father had told her to go?

Grey refused to believe she was guilty. Not yet. Running didn’t prove culpability.

“Stop at once,” she demanded, the back of her head coming away from its resting position on his chest and her bottom scooting forward in the saddle to put a slight distance between their bodies.

He pulled up on Cypress’s reins until the horse came to a panting halt.

Grey prayed his brother was not right. He jumped down then helped Madelaine from the saddle.

One look at her, with her hair tumbling invitingly over her shoulders and across her ample bosom, stirred his groin.

God, he was warped for his lust to awaken at a time like this.

But her dress was revealing and inviting and—Why the hell was she dressed like that? Jealously and anger stirred.

“Do you care to explain the dress?” He wrapped his hands around her waist while trying to tear his eyes from her creamy breasts.

Her slow slide down the length of his body did nothing to dampen his raging desire.

Her feet hit the ground and she stepped away from him, her rounded eyes meeting his.

“After rescuing me from trying to escape your brother do you really want me to explain my attire? Surely there are other more pressing questions on your mind.”

There were a thousand more relevant questions, but he wasn’t sure he wanted the answers or if he got answers would they be honest? “Were you trying to free your father?”

She jerked her head. “As if I could.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No, I was not trying to free him.” Her shoulders slumped, and he fought the urge to fold her into his arms. She had gone there for a reason. He had to know why. “Why were you there?”

“Why do you think?” she asked faintly.

Ah. Here was the tricky part. He knew what he wanted to believe, but was he fooling himself?

Was Edward right? Would he not be able to read the truth in her eyes because he didn’t want to see the truth?

“I think you were desperate to see your father one last time.” Her eyes widened at his statement. “Am I right?”

“Yes.” Her voice trembled. “I had to say goodbye.” She sniffed and wiped at her face. “He’s all I have in this world, Grey. I—I cannot stay to see him hanged. I just want to go home. I don’t want to be here when he’s killed.”

Grey enfolded her into his arms, relief pouring through him. He didn’t give a damn what Edward thought, Madelaine was innocent. She needed him.

He stroked a hand through her hair, aware of a stirring of his blood and a pounding of his pulse.

He was helpless to stop his reaction to her.

The best he could do was try to control himself.

“I’ll take you home. And I’ll send a note to my brother explaining everything, so he won’t pursue punishing you. ”

She pulled away. “No. Don’t do that. You shouldn’t involve yourself in my troubles or place me between you and your brother.”

“Nonsense.” He pulled her to him. When he saw her mouth part as if to protest, he kissed her.

He meant only to silence her while he thought how to convince her to allow him to take her home.

He’d never let her out of his sight now.

Not only was he worried for her safety, but it was imperative to prove her innocence to Edward.

When his mouth met hers, and her warm lips parted, he tasted her sweetness and lost control.

He kissed her hungrily, their tongues swirling and touching then retreating and coming together once again.

He wanted more. He wanted to shelter her and ravish her at the same time.

The dueling desires drove his kiss to a frenzied level.

He ravaged her mouth with kiss after kiss, and she responded by pressing her mouth harder against his.

Their hands worked frantically over each other.

He slid his hands over her smooth skin, pushing her dress off her shoulder, tugging open her bodice, and slipping a finger under her dress to release her taut nipple.

He wrenched his mouth away from hers only to lower it to her nipple where he swirled his tongue around the peak.

A shudder of desire coursed through him when a strangled moan escaped her.

Whatever control he’d had left fled with the knowledge that she wanted him with the same desperation.

He cupped her breast to gain better access, and he grasped her bottom in his other hand to haul her firmly against his hard body.

He wanted her with an intensity that blinded him to all else.

Before he could make his muddled mind decide what to do, she jerked away, and even in the dark of the forest, he sensed her embarrassment by her frantic breathing and the rustling of her clothes as she hastily drew her dress up to cover herself.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly said. God, he was a wretched bastard.

He’d almost taken his future wife’s innocence with the cold dirt and dry leaves as their bed.

“Please, Grey.” Her boots crunched on twigs and leaves as she retreated. “You must leave me. I’ll make my way home on my own.”

His mouth fell open. Damned, foolish woman. This was exactly why he loved her. She thought to protect him from her predicament. But she’d not considered that she’d be raped or murdered before she ever got out of the forest. “How do you plan to get home alone? Will you walk?”

“I—I’d n—n—not thought how to get there.”

“That’s obvious,” he said flatly. “This forest is teeming with thieves, murderers and rapists. You’ll be lucky to make it out with your virginity and your clothes intact.

” He heard her swallow. Good. She needed to understand how vulnerable she was without him.

He suspected she’d fight his proposal, but he’d prevail.

“Maybe I cou—could hire someone to take me home.”

“Have you any money?”

“No.” Her voice was high, strained. “Could you loan me some?”

“Hell no. I’ll see you there myself, Madelaine.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“But I do. I love you, and I intend to marry you.”

“Oh, Grey!” She fell against his chest, clutching his arms.

His heart lurched at her touch.

“This was much easier than I thought,” he murmured in her hair as he caressed the silken strands.

She jerked away. “No. You misunderstand! I can’t fathom you’d still want to marry me now.

I—” Her words cut off as she slid her hand to his head and tugged him toward her.

He met her mouth in a sweet kiss that took his breath and infused him with another rush of lust. “You can’t marry me now, Grey.

I’d never let you align yourself with me and the taint my father’s dishonor will bring. ”

“This is more like how I thought you’d react,” he said wryly.

“It has to be this way. You must know that.”

“I know no such thing. All I know is I’ll be the one to see you home safely or you won’t go home at all.

” Let her think the battle was over. He had many other weapons he could use if she pushed him and he didn’t mind one bit the idea of seducing her in order to secure her hand in marriage.

The foolish woman loved him just as much as he loved her.

For the first time ever, he was completely and utterly happy.

His throat constricted. He wasn’t alone. Unloved. Unwanted. She loved him. He would make her see she needed him. Couldn’t live without him. The idea of going back to a life of loneliness made him shudder. No amount of denying his feelings would work this time.