“I don’t want Mrs. Sauville to know they are gone in the event I have to return to search for more of them.”
“Is that likely?”
“Perhaps not. I won’t know until Freddie inspects the entire lot to make sure none are missing.” Again Rayne gestured at the dressing table, this time indicating a satin pouch that was filled with newly forged letters. “He composed some quite innocuous missives this time, with no mention of his passion for the lovely French widow. If La Sauville does feel compelled to show these to his father, she will be made a laughingstock.”
Picking up the satin pouch, Madeline eyed the stack of letters inside as if estimating their size. “It is unfortunate that Freddie was so prolific,” she said with amusement.
“True, but he fancied himself in love.”
Madeline evidently caught the note of derision in his tone. “You don’t believe he is capable of love?”
Rayne exhaled a humorless laugh. “Oh, I suspect he is capable, but he was a fool to let himself be taken in by Sauville’s allurements.”
After studying Rayne’s face for a moment, Madeline returned to the subject. “How will you smuggle so many letters in and out without being obvious about it?”
“I have a special coat equipped with slots in the lining.”
“Interesting.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “How would I carry the letters if I were the one sneaking into her boudoir?”
Rayne found his gaze dropping to that ripe mouth of Madeline’s. “You would put them in your reticule, or hide them under your skirts.”
Her glance shot up to his. “Indeed?”
“That pouch you are holding can be strapped to your thigh by means of a special clip that attach
es to your stocking garter.”
Madeline slanted her head at him, her expressive eyes suddenly dancing again. “I told you I would be better suited to stealing the letters back,” she pointed out. “You may have difficulty hiding so many in your coat because of the bulk, whereas I could easily conceal them under my skirts.”
Rayne grinned at her. “I’ll take my chances, love. However, if it will console you, you can wear the pouch tonight. There is always the possibility I might need to pass the letters on to you to avoid detection.”
“Perhaps I will.”
Her luminous eyes remained amused as he finished arranging the combs and feathered bandeau in her hair. Upon observing his handiwork in the mirror, Madeline murmured in surprise, “I do look as if I belong at a literary salon.” She glanced up at him in admiration. “You really are quite good at this, aren’t you?”
“This was my profession for a long while,” Rayne replied, brushing off her compliment.
He wasn’t about to let her praise go to his head. Tonight’s task was merely business, and he’d learned the hard way not to mix emotions with business.
With that pointed self-reminder, Rayne took the letters from Madeline and stepped back, intending to fetch his special coat before he was tempted to claim that kissable mouth of hers again.
Chapter Seven
It is difficult to resist a force of nature, Maman. His seduction is like having all my senses struck by bolts of lightning.
After such a lovely afternoon spent with Haviland, Madeline wondered if she might have misjudged his feelings about love and matrimony—until his disdainful remarks about his cousin’s failings only confirmed her misgivings.
Madeline had little chance to contemplate his marriage proposal during the drive to the soirée, however, since all her nerves were exasperatingly on edge. Haviland, on the other hand, lounged nonchalantly in the seat across from her, looking perfectly at ease.
Yet why should he not be calm? Madeline reminded herself. He was daring, fearless, accustomed to confronting danger and death. Whereas she had never faced anything more dangerous than a rogue cow who’d trampled a fence to graze in the herb garden. Unless she counted Baron Ackerby, that is—
“You are worrying needlessly,” Haviland said, breaking into her anxious thoughts.
It was disconcerting, how he seemed to be so attuned to what she was thinking and feeling.
“Aren’t you just the least bit nervous?” Madeline asked.
His half smile made her heart flutter in a way that had nothing to do with her concern about the evening ahead. “Enough experience with danger can make you inured to fear.”