“I could ask the same of you, my love.” His own tone was mild, almost silken in fact, but the underlying edge made Madeline swallow. She was loath to tell him about her brother’s theft. And yet she knew she would have no choice but to explain.
When she remained silent, Rayne’s features hardened discernibly. “We had best hold this discussion in private, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes … of course. I have bespoken a chamber upstairs, if you care to join me.”
After giving a slight nod at the brown-haired man, Rayne took her arm and urged Madeline back up the stairs and down the corridor. When they reached her room, he released his grasp and let her precede him inside.
After a few steps, Madeline turned to face him, but Rayne hesitated on the threshold, filling the doorway, tall, dark, intense. His gaze searched the room, fixing on the neatly made bed for a long heartbeat. Finally, though, he entered and shut the door behind him.
“Well?” Rayne asked in that same silken tone that made her want to shiver. “Would you care to explain what brought you fifty miles from home to sojourn at a strange inn?”
“It is a long story,” Madeline began in a tentative voice.
“I have ample time. I am not going anywhere at the moment.”
She fought the urge to twist the strings of her reticule between her fingers. “How did you know where to find me?”
“I had you followed, sweeting.”
Her eyes widened in bewilderment, then narrowed again as comprehension struck her. The brown-haired man…. Only now did Madeline remember where she’d seen him before. He was Riverwood’s newest footman—John James was his name.
“You set James to spy on me,” she said in disbelief.
“I’d say your clandestine behavior warranted it,” Rayne retorted coldly.
Madeline parted her lips to defend herself, yet she could think of no appropriate reply. Her behavior had indeed warranted Rayne’s suspicions. Yet it still hurt to know he had trusted her so little that he’d actually ordered his servants to follow her.
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Her speechlessness, apparently, resulted in Rayne losing patience. “Whom are you protecting?” he suddenly demanded. “Your brother? Or your lover?”
Madeline gave a start. “My lover?”
His blue eyes pierced her. “It appears as if you have arranged a lovers’ tryst here. Do you dare deny it?”
“Of course I deny it! I have no lover.”
The air between them vibrated with suppressed tension. “You aren’t here to meet Ackerby?” Rayne asked.
That line of attack took Madeline aback even more. “Why on earth would you think I was meeting Ackerby?” she replied in dismay.
“The first time I encountered you, you claimed to be fleeing from him. You were sleeping at an inn, garbed only in your nightdress. Who is to say you weren’t having a lovers’ quarrel then?”
Madeline gazed at Rayne with incredulity. “Are you mad? How could you possibly think I would want Ackerby? He makes my skin crawl.”
Rayne stared back at her, all emotion concealed behind his dark-fringed blue eyes.
“He most certainly is not my lover!” Madeline insisted.
“Then what was he was doing at Danvers Hall kissing you in the garden?”
At her husband’s harsh tone, she raised her chin defensively. “He came to blackmail me.”
Ire sprang into Rayne’s eyes, then faded as if he’d exerted savage control over all his emotions. Crossing the room, he tossed his hat and gloves on a table. “I think you had best explain,” he said grimly.
“I will gladly do so if you would give me a chance,” Madeline retorted.
When their glances clashed, Rayne visibly clenched his jaw. “Pray continue.” He settled in a chair at the table. “I am waiting.”