As for his grandmother, well … Rayne knew he might have a fight on his hands. He had little doubt that the imperious dowager Lady Haviland would object to his choice of brides. Thus he’d deemed it better to inform her after the fact rather than risk a disagreeable scene. Grandmother would simply have to be satisfied with the prospect of someday having a grandson to carry on the family title. In any event, he wouldn’t let his relative sway him from his course.
Granted, Madeline was vastly different from the vapid debutante he had expected to marry. Yet despite his exasperation with her, he’d never admired her more than when she’d come marching out on the dueling field and pushed her way between two adversaries, threatening to shoot both of them if they refused to withdraw. Even now, the remembrance made Rayne smile.
His opinion of Madeline’s mettle had risen another several notches with her stand against him this morning. And despite looking so bedraggled and dowdy in her mud-splattered cloak and dripping bonnet, she had shown the makings of a magnificent countess.
He had spoken the truth to her earlier, Rayne acknowledged. He wanted a woman as feisty and brave as Madeline for the mother of his children.
Yet at the same time, he’d made certain she held no illusions about the basis for their marriage. He wanted her to have no expectation of love between them. Short of that, however, he was willing to predict they would have a highly compatible union.
Unexpectedly, Rayne’s feeling of anticipation was interrupted moments later when he arrived at his town house on Bedford Avenue, since the carriage standing at the curb bore the crest of Drew Moncrief, the Duke of Arden. And Arden himself was descending the front steps of Rayne’s mansion, evidently having paid an extremely early morning call only to find him away from home.
His curiosity aroused, Rayne strode up the walk in time to meet the tall, elegant, fair-haired duke halfway.
“I would like a private word with you, if I may, Haviland,” Arden said in greeting.
His tone was pleasant enough, giving no indication for the purpose of his visit, and Rayne agreed readily and led him inside. Once he’d turned his wet greatcoat and hat over to Walters and seen his visitor’s outer garments likewise disposed of, Rayne invited the duke into his study, where they settled on comfortable leather couches.
“My recent involvement with government affairs,” Arden began, “has made me aware of your past efforts to defeat Napoleon, protecting national interests from numerous threats over the years. I realize that the Foreign Office no longer funds a department for gathering intelligence, but I suspect your skills could prove invaluable in a domestic matter, Haviland. You are aware that Prinny survived an assassination attempt this p
ast January?”
“I had heard of it, yes,” Rayne said.
George, Britain’s Prince Regent, had nearly been shot, while his unpopularity was still causing riots now.
“How may I be of service?” Rayne asked Arden.
“Some disturbing rumors have been circulating about a fresh plot to assassinate the Regent. I would like to commission you to investigate. Should you find any credence to the tales, then I want you to foil the plot, if possible.”
Rayne bit back a smile, feeling a renewed wave of satisfaction along with a sharp twinge of amusement. Just last week he’d been lamenting the dullness of his life and wishing for more excitement. Thwarting blackmail attempts, fighting duels, arranging marriage to a spirited spinster, and uncovering political intrigues with the prospect of foiling an assassination plot against the Prince Regent were sure to cure his restlessness and boredom.
How fortuitous that Arden’s request had come at precisely this moment, Rayne decided. He would relish the chance to pit his wits against a new foe using the skills he’d developed in his former vocation.
But first he had to get past his wedding and wedding night. Not that bedding Madeline would be a hardship. He was greatly anticipating initiating her in the carnal delights of the nuptial bed … and sating the powerful sexual desire that had been building inside him ever since their first titillating meeting at the inn when he’d kissed her and tasted a hint of the passionate woman trapped inside that drab exterior.
Still, he was glad for the diversion. A new occupation for his time would give him an excellent reason to keep his distance from Madeline while they settled into married life together.
“I would be pleased to help if I can,” Rayne replied easily to Arden. “Why don’t you begin by telling me everything you know and have heard so I can judge what may best be done?”
Chapter Ten
Spellbinding, magical, beautiful, incredible … there really are no words to describe it, Maman.
How drastically her life had changed in the span of a single week, Madeline reflected as she stood reciting her vows in the elegant drawing room at Riverwood.
She’d been in danger of declining into permanent spinsterhood, yet now she was joining in holy matrimony with a ruggedly handsome nobleman and entering a world of privilege and wealth she could only imagine.
The small but illustrious list of wedding guests was just one indication of her altered circumstances. In addition to the vicar and her two new friends from the academy, Jane Caruthers and Penelope Melford, Arabella and her husband, Marcus, Lord Danvers, were in attendance. So were Arabella’s sister Roslyn and her husband, the Duke of Arden, as well as the Honorable Freddie Lunsford.
Madeline felt a trifle dazed by her startling turn of fortune. Her nuptials were not precisely what she’d expected, either. She wore a pale-green silk gown borrowed from Arabella, with the bust and waist seams let out and the hem pinned up to accommodate her fuller figure and shorter height.
But most critically, Madeline acknowledged, she had abandoned her dreams and romantic ideals for marriage. She and Rayne were two near strangers who were marrying simply for convenience.
Or at least, his motivation was convenience. Hers went much deeper.
Keenly aware of her compelling bridegroom standing beside her, Madeline couldn’t help noting the frantic way her heart was drumming warnings about her future prospects. Rayne had frequently taken her to task for risking physical danger, but she had put herself in real peril by wedding him with little hope of mutual affection.
She was in love with a man who had no interest in her other than the heir she could give him.