To Tame a Dangerous Lord (Courtship Wars)

And she would put in an appearance at the academy this afternoon, Madeline decided, even though both Jane and Arabella didn’t expect her to teach any classes today because of her wedding.

She wanted to keep busy so she wouldn’t dwell on the disaster she had made of her life by marrying Rayne when she should have known better.

At the start, Madeline’s day went precisely as planned. She dined alone in the breakfast room, and afterward Bramsley introduced her to the many servants at Riverwood and took her on an extensive tour of her new home.

Madeline half expected Bramsley to resent her presence, but his demeanor was entirely respectful, if not eager to please. There was no pity in his eyes, either, because she’d been abandoned so shortly after the marriage ceremony. Instead, he acted as if the lord’s absence was a common occurrence.

What was not a common occurrence was hearing Bramsley address her as “my lady.” The first time he did so—greeting Madeline when she left her bedchamber and descended the grand staircase to the ground floor—she gave a start. Remembering that she was now Lady Haviland, however, she summoned a smile. “Good morning to you also, Bramsley.”

“I do beg your pardon, my lady,” he intoned solemnly. “I would have sent a maid to you had I known you would rise so early.”

Madeline heard no criticism in his tone because of her unexpected habits, merely chagrin that he had not anticipated her needs bet

ter.

“To be truthful, I never noticed the absence of a maid, since I am not in the habit of being waited upon. It will be one more thing that I must grow accustomed to.”

Looking relieved by her admission, Bramsley responded with alacrity when she asked to see the house after breakfast. “Certainly, my lady. Lord Haviland bade me ensure your every comfort, and I will be pleased to serve you in any way possible.”

Madeline would have been happier if Rayne himself were here to perform that particular service—but then she chided herself for the thought. How pathetic it would be if she were to become the possessive, clinging bride.

The tour actually took most of her morning. Riverwood was significantly larger than the estate where Madeline had spent the past five years of her life employed as a companion, and there were many, many rooms.

Her favorite, beyond a doubt, was on the second floor.

“This is the bathing chamber, my lady,” Bramsley informed her. “His lordship designed the arrangement and oversaw the construction himself. Hot water is piped here to the tub from the boiler room below, so a regular temperature can be maintained and there is no need to carry cans of water to and fro from the kitchens.”

“Very impressive,” Madeline replied, eyeing the enormous copper bathing tub with its plethora of pipes. What a delicious luxury to have all the hot bathwater one could want. “Did Lord Haviland design any more of the house?”

“Yes, my lady. The kitchens and fireplaces were modernized as well. But his lordship left furnishing the main rooms to me. He purchased the estate last year from an elderly gentleman who wished to reside with his son, and most rooms were in sore need of refurbishing.”

She supposed Rayne had bought Riverwood when he inherited his new title, but she wondered why he would need another country estate when he already had the Haviland family seat in Kent.

“You have excellent taste, Bramsley,” Madeline murmured.

“Thank you, my lady.”

The furnishings, she had noted, were much like Rayne’s town house in London, elegant but comfortable. Madeline thought she would have felt quite at home here if she truly were Rayne’s wife instead of one party in a matrimonial contract.

The most masculine room in the house was his study. Here, gleaming wood paneling and plush leather couches and chairs added elegance to the large desk dominating the room.

“His lordship spends much of his time in this chamber when he is at Riverwood,” Bramsley said, answering her unspoken question.

Madeline suspected she might not be welcome in this male bastion but decided not to put it to the test. Instead she would use the pretty writing desk in the drawing room for her own correspondence needs.

At the conclusion of the tour, Bramsley again indicated his willingness to accept her as mistress. “I am certain there are changes you would like to make, my lady, and I will do my utmost to see that you are satisfied.”

Madeline smiled and shook her head. “I don’t mean to change anything as yet. You have clearly done a splendid job thus far at running the household, Bramsley, and I would be obliged if you continue.”

The majordomo unbent enough to return her smile and then asked how he might be of service. In short order, he sent a maid up to help Madeline unpack her meager wardrobe and assist her in changing her gown, as befitted a countess. Bramsley also had a footman standing ready to drive her to the academy when she came down again.

She would grow quite spoiled with such luxury, Madeline reflected, deciding that tomorrow she would reassert her independence. For now, however, she would let herself be pampered a little.

When she reached the academy, Jane Caruthers was surprised to see her, but nodded in understanding when Madeline explained that Haviland had gone to London on business. She was gratified when her pupils seemed delighted by her visit and amused by their awe at her becoming a countess overnight.

It was when Madeline returned to her new home that she received a surprise herself. According to Bramsley, Rayne’s elderly grandmother, the dowager Countess Haviland, awaited her in the drawing room.

Upon learning of her noble visitor, Madeline shed her bonnet and pelisse and gloves and made her way quickly down the corridor to the drawing room. Entering, she saw the silver-haired aristocrat seated in a wing chair beside a roaring hearth fire.