“It is hardly a scandal,” Rayne said dryly.
“It most certainly is,” she muttered in derision. “And you will likely be the death of me.”
He bowed respectfully. “That would be extremely unfortunate, love, but I have high hopes you will outlive all your grandchildren. And to help ensure it, I will summon all your various doctors to attend to you immediately.”
/> She hesitated, then waved her hand in dismissal. “That will not be necessary. I will suffer in silence, as I always do. Now take yourself off, sir, since you are so vexingly determined to disoblige me.”
Rayne knew he had called her bluff, for she disliked being poked and prodded by her physicians. “As you wish, Grandmother.”
Aware that he hadn’t ended her objections to his marriage, though, he crossed to the door and let himself from the room, feeling her irate gaze boring into his back, as intense as any enemy surveillance.
Chapter Twelve
I have decided to take fate into my own hands, Maman.
To post her latest letter to Gerard, Madeline drove herself into Chiswick alone. After what had happened with her first correspondence, she didn’t want Rayne’s servants alerted to her attempt to contact her brother.
When she returned home to Riverwood, a note from Arabella was waiting for her, suggesting that they drive to London tomorrow and spend the day visiting her dressmaker and various other shops. She also suggested that Madeline make a list of items she needed.
The writing desk in the drawing room was out of paper, however, since she’d used the last sheets to write Arabella and Gerard. Not wishing to take Bramsley from his duties to fetch more paper for her, Madeline decided to search for it herself, starting in the most logical place—Rayne’s study.
Most of the drawers in his massive desk were locked, she discovered, but the lower left one was accessible. Inside, she found a thin sheaf of papers containing what looked to be a list of names, scrawled in a bold handwriting that she assumed was Rayne’s.
Madeline was about to return his papers to the drawer when an underlined name leapt out at her: Roslyn Loring. Curious, she let her gaze skim down the entire list. There were some three dozen female names in total, and Rayne had made notations beside each one.
It seemed to be a list of candidates he had considered for matrimony.
Startled by her deduction, Madeline perused all the pages in detail. Rayne had made three more columns to accompany the names. The first heading was “Feat.,” which she took to mean distinguishing physical features, including hair color—perhaps so he could remember the individual ladies or tell them apart.
The two other columns appeared to be descriptions of intelligence and personality and character. Under “Intelligence” he had assigned each lady a numerical rating 0 to 9. But under “Pers/Char” were words:
Lively. Timid. Charming. Talks too much. Dull. Deadly dull. At least half of the candidates were rated “dull” or some variation thereof, but there were also some even less flattering terms such as Simpers, Fawns, Vain, and Greedy.
A pang of jealousy struck Madeline when she saw that Roslyn Loring had received a 9 for intelligence and a description of “intriguing” for personality—clearly the highest rating for anyone on Rayne’s list. And yet, she noted, “beautiful” did not appear anywhere on the pages.
Madeline chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. If this was Rayne’s tally of the advantages and disadvantages of the bridal candidates he’d considered and rejected thus far, she supposed she could take heart, since he seemed to value brains and spirit over beauty.
“May I assist you, my lady?”
With a start Madeline looked up to find Bramsley standing in the study doorway, frowning at her in disapproval.
“I was searching for writing paper,” she explained hastily.
“Forgive me, my lady, I should have mentioned it before. Lord Haviland does not allow anyone to touch his desk. Indeed, I am the only staff permitted to enter his study.”
Feeling somewhat guilty, Madeline shoved Rayne’s lists back in the drawer and stood. “I am sorry. I wasn’t aware that his study was off limits to me. But of course I will respect his wishes.”
It wasn’t surprising that Rayne would be protective of his privacy since his entire profession had been built on secrets, but she felt very much like Bluebeard’s wife at being caught here, even though she had certainly not been snooping.
Bramsley pointedly interrupted her musings. “I will be happy to bring you the writing paper you require, my lady.”
“Thank you,” Madeline said rather meekly.
Preceding the majordomo from the study, she watched as he shut the door carefully behind them. Then, desiring to change the subject, she added casually, “I am planning a drive with Lady Danvers to London tomorrow to visit her dressmaker, if you need me to perform any errands for you while I am there.”
Bramsley stared at her a moment, making Madeline keenly aware that she had just committed a solecism.
She sent him a rueful smile. “I suppose my habits as a former companion are too ingrained. My offer is vastly out of place, isn’t it? Of course you have a large staff to call upon to run errands for you.”