Rayne abruptly stood and went to the door.
“Where are you going?” she was startled into asking.
“To have a word with John James. He can keep watch on the innkeep so we will know at once when your brother approaches him.”
With that, Rayne let himself from the room.
Madeline felt a hopeless laugh well up inside her. Rayne was completely taking charge as usual. He was a warrior, a modern-day white knight. Even if he thought her guilty of treachery and betrayal, he would try to protect her from harm, and perhaps her brother as well. Yet she couldn’t help the bleak sensation of despair spreading through her chest.
Letting her head drop, Madeline wrapped her arms around herself, fighting desolation. Her body was trembling with emotion while helpless tears seeped from the corners of her eyes.
How could Rayne possibly ever come to love her if he mistrusted her so profoundly? If he thought she might be guilty of thievery and even infidelity? If his suspicions ran so deep that he had set his spies to watch her every move?
She had scant hope of winning his love if he trusted her so little.
Yet she had only herself to blame, Madeline thought, struggling against a sob. She had been seduced by her own fantasies, the ones deep in her heart.
Weakly, she let the tears fall during the interval Rayne was away. As soon as she heard footsteps in the corridor, though, she dabbed at her wet eyes and cheeks. She hated crying in front of him. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, let him know her heart was breaking.
Thankfully, she was almost able to regain a semblance of control by the time Rayne entered. She was surprised, however, when the innkeep’s wife bustled in behind him, bearing a tray laden with ale and meats and cheeses.
“I ordered a meal,” Rayne said in explanation.
With a cautious smile at Madeline, Mrs. Pilling deposited the tray on the table, then curtsied and left. When they were alone again, Rayne held out a chair at the table for her.
“Come, sit down,” he ordered.
She risked a direct glance at him. His eyes had lost that fierce, hot intensity and instead merely looked moody and dark.
“You should eat something,” he urged.
“I am not hungry.”
He hesitated, looking as if he would press her, but then he murmured, “Very well,” before settling at the table and helping his own plate. He had also found some newspapers from somewhere, Madeline realized when he opened the pages and began to read. No doubt he had long experience waiting for his operations to result in some sort of action.
She couldn’t eat a bite, though, not when she felt cold and hot and sick to her stomach. In addition to her despair over Rayne, she was half out of her mind with worry for Gerard.
Mentally, Madeline shook her head. She was admittedly resentful that Rayne appeared so calm, but then he was no ordinary man. With his vast experience in intelligence, he was likely inured to danger, impervious to fear. The baron’s henchmen would not frighten him—
She froze as she suddenly had a horrifying thought. “What if Ackerby’s ruffians have already found Gerard?” she asked in alarm.
“It’s possible,” Rayne said, looking up. “If your brother doesn’t arrive by two, we will search the area until we find him.” His gaze sharpened again. “But you will let me deal with Ackerby’s thugs, Madeline. I’ve had a great deal more experience with their sort than you have.”
Madeline remained silent. Rayne was treating her like a fragile flower again, and yet she didn’t intend to object. In this instance he was right; she was far out of her depth. Indeed, she was actually relieved he was there to help her face this crisis. Even if his lack of trust made her heart ache, she was glad not to be alone.
Still, she couldn’t help remembering two nights ago when there had at least been a pretense of passion between them. This heavy, tense silence was even worse than his detachment had been.
Feeling her despairing ache intensify, she turned back to the window to watch and wait.
By her calculation, it was a full, interminable hour later before anything happened. In the interval, Madeline saw a great deal of activity in the inn yard below, but as Rayne had predicted, there was no sign of her brother.
Her first indication that something was wrong came when Rayne threw down his newspaper. As he surged to his feet and sprang for the door, Madeline heard shouts coming vaguely from somewhere in the inn.
The commotion grew louder when Rayne flung open the door.
“Stay here!” he threw over his shoulder before sprinting from the room.
It sounded very much as if a fight was ensuing on the floor below, Madeline realized, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. Quickly snatching up her reticule, she fumbled inside for her pistol as she disobeyed Rayne’s order and ran after him.