Page 56 of What A Rogue Wants (Lords Of Deception #1)
Three months later
Madelaine made her way through the sunny halls of her home, humming as she strolled.
She came to stand in front of Grey’s closed study door, a smile pulling at her lips and a hand resting for a brief moment on her belly.
Anticipation swelled within her, but as angry voices rose on the other side of the door, she frowned.
Then, as she had been doing for years, she pressed her ear to the door.
Geraldine, the housekeeper, came around the corner with a silver tray in hand, her eyes widening when she saw Madelaine. Madelaine suppressed a giggle and held her hand toward Geraldine. “Give me the tray.”
“My lady?”
“The tray,” Madelaine said impatiently. “I’ll take it in to my husband.” It was the perfect excuse to interrupt him.
“But, my lady,” Geraldine started to protest. Madelaine patted the elderly woman. “It’s perfectly fine. He knows I have a mind of my own. He won’t hold you responsible. Now, give me the tray.”
Geraldine’s eyebrows furrowed, but she handed over the tray and with a shake of her head, and murmuring, scurried down the hall.
Madelaine opened the door and swept into the study.
Grey and Gravenhurst faced each other with stormy looks.
Her heart gave a little lurch. Was this about a mission?
The timing would be awful, but she refused to let anything dampen her spirits.
“Good afternoon, my dear.” She set the tray on the side table and went to stand by Grey.
“Lord Gravenhurst, to what do we owe this pleasure? A mission?”
Lord Gravenhurst’s gaze flicked to Grey and back to her. The man was disconcerting as always. “Not exactly,” he said, pulling at his cravat.
Madelaine frowned. She’d never seen Lord Gravenhurst uncomfortable or at a loss for words. What in the world could be the matter? Something grave surely, or a matter of the heart. “Is it a lady?”
His throat clearing and him shifting from foot to foot told her she’d hit her target, though she’d shot the arrow blindly. “I see. Anyone I know?”
The guttural throat sounds coming from Grey surprised her.
“Who is it?” she demanded.
“Madelaine.” Grey’s one word warned of his raised temper. Whoever this conversation was about, Grey was not happy. Madelaine’s curiosity was definitely piqued, but right now she had much more important things on her mind. She shelved the mystery.
“Grey, I need to speak with you in private for a few minutes.” Would a few minutes be enough? Well, if they hurried, though, Grey was not one to hurry, which she adored.
“Now?” His eyebrows shot upward.
“Yes, please.” She slipped her hand through his arm. “In the bedroom.”
His eyes widened at her pronouncement, and the frown that had tugged at his lips turned into a smile. “Gravenhurst, I’ll be back shortly.”
Grey glanced at Madelaine, and she shook her head. He led her toward the door and called over his shoulder, “Make that in a little while.”
Madelaine had to double her footsteps to keep up with Grey as he raced them up the stairs and to their bedroom. He shut the door and faced her. “What is it you need, my dear? I’m all ears and ready to be convinced.”
Grey’s voice was thick with desire that Madelaine’s body instantly responded to. But her desire would have to wait for a minute. “I’m getting fat.”
“What?” Grey looked confused. “Is this a woman’s worry? You’re perfect.”
“Hmm…” She licked her lips. “I’ve gained some weight.” Her heart thudded heavily in her ears.
Grey brushed his hand down her arm. “You are more beautiful than ever. Where have you gained weight? I don’t see it.”
She took his warm hand and placed it on her belly. “Here, my darling. I’ve gained weight here. And soon, you will see it when the baby really starts to grow.”
“Truly?” He placed his hand on her belly, his fingers curling ever so slightly.
Warm tingles of happiness danced through her body.
“Truly, dearest. You are going to be a father.”
“I don’t think I can get any happier,” Grey said.
Madelaine grasped his lapels and tugged him closer. “I’m sure I can make you happier.”
He regarded her curiously.
“What is it, dearest?” She squeezed his hand to encourage him to tell her.
“When I was young I sought to feel loved, and then I sought to avoid it when I grew older. When I least expected love, there you were, the answer to what I didn’t even realize I was still searching for.
Thank you for your love and our precious child.
” He leaned down and gave her a kiss that curled her toes and made her feel at once desired, protected and cherished.
Thank you so very much for reading Grey and Madelaine’s story.
I hope you enjoyed it. I’m currently working on the second book in RENEGADE SCOTS Series, HIGHLAND DEFENDER, which is Angus and Lillianna’s story.
If you want a notification of when the next story will be available, you can sign up for my newsletter here: http://juliejohnstoneauthor.com/subscribe/ .
If you love Scottish romance, I think you might like my HIGHLANDER VOWS: ENTANGLED HEARTS series. Book 1 in the series is WHEN A LAIRD LOVES A LADY, and you can start reading it with chapter one below.
Chapter One
England, 1357
Faking her death would be simple. It was escaping her home that would be difficult.
Marion de Lacy stared hard into the slowly darkening sky, thinking about the plan she intended to put into action tomorrow—if all went well—but growing uneasiness tightened her belly.
From where she stood in the bailey, she counted the guards up in the tower.
It was not her imagination: Father had tripled the knights keeping guard at all times, as if he was expecting trouble.
Taking a deep breath of the damp air, she pulled her mother’s cloak tighter around her to ward off the twilight chill.
A lump lodged in her throat as the wool scratched her neck.
In the many years since her mother had been gone, Marion had both hated and loved this cloak for the death and life it represented.
Her mother’s freesia scent had long since faded from the garment, yet simply calling up a memory of her mother wearing it gave Marion comfort.
She rubbed her fingers against the rough material.
When she fled, she couldn’t chance taking anything with her but the clothes on her body and this cloak.
Her death had to appear accidental, and the cloak that everyone knew she prized would ensure her freedom.
Finding it tangled in the branches at the edge of the sea cliff ought to be just the thing to convince her father and William Froste that she’d drowned.
After all, neither man thought she could swim.
They didn’t truly care about her anyway.
Her marriage to the blackhearted knight was only about what her hand could give the two men.
Her father, Baron de Lacy, wanted more power, and Froste wanted her family’s prized land.
A match made in Heaven, if only the match didn’t involve her… but it did.
Father would set the hounds of Hell themselves to track her down if he had the slightest suspicion that she was still alive.
She was an inestimable possession to be given to secure Froste’s unwavering allegiance and, therefore, that of the renowned ferocious knights who served him.
Whatever small sliver of hope she had that her father would grant her mercy and not marry her to Froste had been destroyed by the lashing she’d received when she’d pleaded for him to do so.
The moon crested above the watchtower, reminding her why she was out here so close to mealtime: to meet Angus. The Scotsman may have been her father’s stable master, but he was her ally, and when he’d proposed she flee England for Scotland, she’d readily consented.
Marion looked to the west, the direction from which Angus would return from Newcastle.
He should be back any minute now from meeting his cousin and clansman Neil, who was to escort her to Scotland.
She prayed all was set and that Angus’s kin was ready to depart.
With her wedding to Froste to take place in six days, she wanted to be far away before there was even the slightest chance he’d be making his way here.
And since he was set to arrive the night before the wedding, leaving tomorrow promised she’d not encounter him.
A sense of urgency enveloped her, and Marion forced herself to stroll across the bailey toward the gatehouse that led to the tunnel preceding the drawbridge.
She couldn’t risk raising suspicion from the tower guards.
At the gatehouse, she nodded to Albert, one of the knights who operated the drawbridge mechanism.
He was young and rarely questioned her excursions to pick flowers or find herbs.
“Off to get some medicine?” he inquired.
“Yes,” she lied with a smile and a little pang of guilt.
But this was survival, she reminded herself as she entered the tunnel.
When she exited the heavy wooden door that led to freedom, she wasn’t surprised to find Peter and Andrew not yet up in the twin towers that flanked the entrance to the drawbridge.
It was, after all, time for the changing of the guard.
They smiled at her as they put on their helmets and demi-gauntlets.
They were an imposing presence to any who crossed the drawbridge and dared to approach the castle gate.
Both men were tall and looked particularly daunting in their full armor, which Father insisted upon at all times.
The men were certainly a fortress in their own right.
She nodded to them. “I’ll not be long. I want to gather some more flowers for the supper table.” Her voice didn’t even wobble with the lie.
Peter grinned at her, his kind brown eyes crinkling at the edges. “Will you pick me one of those pale winter flowers for my wife again, Marion?”
She returned his smile. “It took away her anger as I said it would, didn’t it?”