To Tame a Dangerous Lord (Courtship Wars)

“A fine job you were doing of it,” he retorted sardonically.

Madeline bit back her own retort. She was mortified that Rayne had seen the baron pawing her, but she was appalled to think of what might happen if they actually dueled. Rayne might be hurt or even killed. Even if he escaped unharmed, there could still be devastating consequences.

“Did you ever consider that you might lose a confrontation with him?”

“No,” he stated flatly. “I won’t lose.”

“And what happens if you win? You know dueling is illegal. If you kill him, you may be forced to flee the country to avoid arrest.”

His mouth curled. “Perhaps I won’t kill him. Just put a sizable hole in him.”

In frustration, Madeline reached out to grip Rayne’s arm again. “I will not have blood drawn on my account!”

“It is not your decision to make, sweeting.” Deliberately, Rayne pried her clutching fingers away. “My apologies for violating your fierce sense of independence, but that bastard has touched you for the last time.”

With that harsh pronouncement, Rayne also turned away and strode rapidly toward the manor house, not giving her a chance to reply.

Madeline stared after him, wanting to curse and scream in the same breath. How had events come to such a sorry pass in so short a time?

She raised a hand to her suddenly aching temple. She couldn’t let the duel proceed. Her first priority was to somehow stop it—and then she had to convince her reckless brother to return the baron’s property before he was caught red-handed and faced hanging.

Spurred into motion by her conclusions, Madeline abandoned her basket of flowers and hurried toward the house, a sense of urgency driving her on.

To her mind, persuading Ackerby to call off the duel was likely to be easier than convincing Rayne, who was too stubborn and too ruthlessly determined to champion her in place of her late father. Rayne was clearly a throwback to the feudal era, when wealthy powerful overlords protected the weak and defenseless. But while part of Madeline appreciated his gallantry, she was not weak or defenseless. Nor could she bear to see him suffer for her sake.

She could not, however, simply follow Lord Ackerby to London to plead with him, since she had to teach her class at the academy at eleven and she still had significant preparations to make beforehand.

Therefore, Madeline settled on writing to the baron at his home in Portman Square, swearing faithfully to see that his property was returned to him if he would forgo the duel. Meanwhile, she promised, she would speak to Lord Haviland and make him understand how mistaken he had been to issue the challenge in the first place.

And she fully intended to keep her word on that score. She would call on Rayne at Riverwood directly after her class, rationalizing that he might be more amenable to persuasion if she allowed time for his temper to cool. She would claim that she’d given Baron Ackerby permission to kiss her—without revealing the exact reason, since learning of the baron’s disgusting proposition would only increase Rayne’s wrath.

Madeline winced at the thought of lying to him and pretending that she’d willingly kissed a repellent libertine who normally made her shudder. But Rayne would never withdraw his challenge unless she convinced him that he’d misconstrued Ackerby’s embrace.

The second letter Madeline wrote to her brother, demanding to know if he’d stolen the precious heirloom, and if so, that he come to his senses and return the necklace immediately, adding that Ackerby had threatened dire consequences otherwise.

Tucked into the sealed letter, she included the draft for the reward money she had earned. A hundred pounds would give Gerard and Lynette a significant financial start to their married life together, or in the alternative, allow him to afford to buy a wedding gift of jewelry for his new bride that didn’t have the taint of being stolen.

She addressed Gerard’s letter to Lynette’s cousin in Maidstone, Kent. If her written plea brought no response, Madeline was resolved to travel there in person to confront her brother directly. But she disliked leaving Chiswick just now unless truly necessary, since abandoning a post she had barely begun would likely mean the end of her new teaching career.

Her fear for Gerard was tempered by the knowledge that she could possibly apply to Rayne for help in saving her brother from Ackerby’s retribution. But then she would have to confess the theft, which might only make Rayne think less of her.

Madeline bit her lip as she acknowledged her own selfish motives at keeping the whole sordid matter a secret from him. Just now Rayne thought her qualified to be his wife, but she doubted he would want to wed the sister of a thief who faced prison or hanging. And if she mired his grandmother and sisters in a cloud of scandal, it would be just one more reason he might never love her.

Maman, is it wrong to hold out hope that I might someday win his heart? Madeline wondered wistfully as she sanded and sealed both letters.

Shrugging off her foolish thoughts, she put away her writing implements and went in search of Simpkin.

She found the elderly butler in the Danvers Hall ballroom, supervising the wax removal and cleaning of the chandeliers and replacing burned-out candles with fresh ones.

When she asked him to post the letters for her in Chiswick at once, he readily agreed.

“However, Miss Ellis,” Simpkin suggested, “Lord Haviland will surely frank these for you.”

Giving a faint smile, Madeline shook her head. It would spare the recipients the cost of postage if her mail bore a peer’s stamp, but naturally she didn’t want Rayne knowing about either letter.

“Perhaps so, but I don’t wish to be any more indebted to his lordship than I already am,” Madeline hedged. “And there may not be time to request his frank. I truly need these letters to go out immediately.”

Simpkin pulled his watch from his coat pocket to check the hour. “I will see to it myself. If I leave now, I will reach the posting inn in time to catch the mail coach.”