The Marquess Move Page 9

  “Come sit,” Lady Elizabeth said as soon as the night rail was settled. She lowered herself to the edge of the bed and patted the space next to her. “You seem to have a great deal on your mind.”

  Tentatively, Maddie moved over to the bed and took a seat next to her mistress. Henrietta had never invited her to sit and talk. Aside from Anna, Maddie had had no one to talk to these past four years.

  “You said you were meant to have a debut,” Lady Elizabeth said frankly. “What did you mean by that?”

  Maddie took a deep breath. “If I’m to tell you, I must ask you again not to share it with anyone.”

  “You have my word,” Lady Elizabeth replied, nodding sagely.

  Maddie closed her eyes briefly. Somehow she knew her secrets would be safe with the sensible young woman. She took another deep breath. “My father was a baron,” she admitted.

  Lady Elizabeth’s eyes widened, but she remained silent.

  “He died when I was eighteen. When I refused to marry my awful cousin who inherited Papa’s title, he put my younger sister and me out.”

  Lady Elizabeth gasped. “No.” She reached over and covered Maddie’s cold hand with her own warm one and squeezed it encouragingly.

  Maddie swallowed. “I came to London to find work. I send every farthing back to Molly.”

  “Your sister?” Lady Elizabeth prodded.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, dear. I’m so terribly sorry.” Lady Elizabeth squeezed her hand once more.

  “Don’t be, my lady. I made my choice. I only regret that Molly has suffered because of it. I have been terribly selfish. I love my sister dearly, and I would do anything for her. But I refuse to marry for anything less than true love.”

  “You seem like a very resourceful, caring young lady to me, Madeline,” Lady Elizabeth said, squeezing her hand one final time before pulling hers away. “I believe your sister is extremely fortunate to have you.”

  Maddie stood and expelled her breath. That was kind of Lady Elizabeth to say but she knew in her heart how selfish she’d been. Meanwhile, it felt oddly freeing to have shared her secret with Lady Elizabeth. She felt better than she had in days. “If there’s nothing else, my lady. I’ll just be going.”

  “May I ask you one more question?” Lady Elizabeth said. “And I promise to tell no one the answer.”

  Maddie nodded. “Very well.”

  “You mentioned your dance. Has my brother also kissed you?” Lady Elizabeth’s dark eyes flared brightly with interest.

  Maddie’s cheeks flamed again. She pressed her hands to them, knowing they must have turned bright red.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Lady Elizabeth added. “I’m far too blunt.” She shook her head. “I shall gather from the color of your cheeks that the answer is probably yes, but I shall not push you to say it.”

  “Thank you,” Maddie breathed, only too relieved to be spared from admitting the truth to Lord Whitmore’s own sister.

  “There is one thing you should know about Justin, however,” Lady Elizabeth continued.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m told my brother is a ‘rake,’ whatever that means.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Justin spent the better part of the morning just as he’d spent the remainder of the previous night…cursing himself. He wasn’t only a fool. He was a scoundrel. He was Madeline’s employer, for Christ’s sake. What in the world was he doing taking liberties with her in his sister’s bedchamber? He’d kissed her and then he’d fled like a coward. After tossing back several whiskeys that did nothing to relieve his guilt, he’d finally gone to bed where he’d tossed and turned until falling into a fitful slumber.

  The few hours of sleep did little to improve his self-directed temper. He couldn’t delude himself that he’d gone to the second floor for any other reason than to find Madeline.

  After telling himself all day yesterday that he would stay far away from her—that he would allow her to go about her duties as Eliza’s maid without any interference from him—he’d sought her out at the first opportunity. And then kissed her, of all dastardly things.

  He may have expressed sincere regret for the part he’d played in the loss of her previous position, but now he owed her another apology. The worst part was, he didn’t even regret it. Not truly. He felt guilt, he wasn’t a monster, but that kiss had been like nothing he’d ever experienced. From the second he’d touched her, pure lust had shot through his body. Her innocent responsiveness made his blood pound unmercifully. Her encouraging smile. The way she bit her lip. He had been close to losing control. Too close. He’d wanted nothing more than to keep going. Move his hand down to her breast, pull up her skirts, toss her onto the bed and cover her with his rock-hard body. He wanted to do it again even now, mired in guilt and regret.

  He was an unmitigated arse, taking advantage of his sister’s maid. She may have felt guilty for being sacked by Henrietta Hazelton for sneaking around and pretending to be a guest, but she’d never lied to him. He’d been the one to make assumptions about who she was. She’d never claimed to be a debutante.

  What sort of libertine was he? If his mother knew what he’d done, she’d kick him out of his own house. And he’d deserve it. Perhaps he should go? He could bunk at Edgefield’s house or at his club. Only, he’d be forced to explain such a decision to his family and what the hell would he say? That he’d had to flee his own home because of an overwhelming attraction to his sister’s lady’s maid?

  He was worse than a rutting stag. He needed a woman. It had been too long. Tonight, he would visit his favorite gaming hell and go home with a willing lady. That would solve his problem.

  Hours later, for the second night in a row, Justin found himself wandering through his empty house. Mama and the twins had gone to the theater with Veronica and Edgefield. Justin would be going out, but not ’til much later. But although he was home alone, he had no intention of repeating the mistakes of last night. He would not go to the second floor. His error last night had been giving into that moment of insanity. As long as he stayed on the first and third floors, where he belonged, he would be safe and so would Madeline. It was quite simple, really.

  He would just have a drink in his study before dressing for the evening. As he made his way down the winding marble staircase to the first floor, he heard the pianoforte? He frowned. Was Jessica home? No. He’d watched her leave not an hour earlier. And Eliza never played the instrument.

  Instead of going to his study, he made his way to the drawing room and pushed opened the door. There, sitting on the black wooden bench in front of the large pianoforte, was Madeline. Her graceful fingers flew over the keys as she expertly played a haunting melody. Her name flew from his lips.

  Her fingers came off the keys, and she swiveled to face him, gasping.

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said, moving farther into the room.

  She jumped up from the bench and stood in front of the instrument, apprehension in her eyes. “I’m sorry, my lord. I didn’t think anyone was home. Lady Elizabeth invited me to make use of the instrument while the family was out.”

  “Tu joues magnifiquement,” he said.

  “Vous êtes trop gentil,” she replied in flawless French without skipping a beat, before clearing her throat and saying, “I…I thought you’d gone with your family to the theater tonight.”

  “I decided not to attend.”

  She gathered her skirts and made to move past him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here. I’ll just—”

  “Please don’t stop playing on my account,” he said, gesturing toward the bench.

  She shook her head. “It’s not proper.”

  He chuckled. “I believe you and I left proper behind a long time ago.” He nodded toward the pianoforte. “Please play. It was beautiful.”

  Tentatively, she moved back toward the bench and sat down. After a few moments, she resumed playing.

  Justin wandered over to the instrument and braced an arm atop it. “Tell me something. How did you learn to play so well?”

  Her fingers shifted on the keys and an awful noise emitted forth. She laughed and started again. “I…my mother taught me.” Her voice was unnaturally high and there was a bit of a squeak to it.

  “I see. And your speech? It’s quite refined for a lady’s maid. Not to mention your French.”

  Madeline kept her eyes on the keys. “Also my mother. I…I was raised in a…proper household, my lord.”

  He narrowed his eyes on her. “Exactly how proper was your household?”

  She swallowed. “I…I nearly married once.”

  His brows shot up. “Did you?” It was not an answer, of course, but apparently it was all she was willing to give.

  “Yes. I had the chance, but I…didn’t take it.” She finished her tune and turned around on the bench.

  “I want to apologize.”

  “You don’t owe me any more apologies, my lord.”

  “Yes, I do. This time I must apologize for taking a liberty with you last night.”

  The hint of a smile curled her lips. “As you said, my lord, we’re even.”

  “Please, call me Justin. At least when we’re alone. It feels wrong for you to call me by my title after we’ve kissed…twice.”

  She laughed at that. “I did hear that you’re a rake.”

  He nearly choked. “Is that so? Who told you that?”

  “Your sister,” Madeline offered.

  Justin’s brows shot up. “Eliza? I should hope she doesn’t know what that word means.”

  “She doesn’t,” Madeline assured him.

  “Good!” He grinned at her. “So, tell me. If you had a chance to marry, why didn’t you take it?”

  She was a silent a few moments before saying, “Because it wasn’t for love.”

  Justin narrowed his eyes at her. “You want to marry for love?”

  She nodded firmly. “Love and only love. Not that it matters now. That time is long-since past. I’ve no plans to marry. I’m only concerned about my sister’s prospects. I would do anything for Molly.”

  “Your sister?” He frowned. What could her sister’s prospects be? “Is she a maid too?”

  Madeline shook her head. “No, she’s not.”

  “Where is she then?”

  “She’s in the country. Back in Devon. She’s staying with a family friend for the time being. I used to live there too. After Papa died and we—” She cleared her throat. “Our fortunes changed.”

  Justin nodded. Perhaps her father had been a gambler or a spendthrift. If he’d died and left them penniless, they would be forced to rely on the kindness of friends. An unfortunate position to be in, but one he’d seen all too often among the gentry.

  “I came to London to work. To send money back to Molly,” Madeline continued.

  He nodded again. Just as he’d suspected. “That’s awfully good of you.”

  “After refusing my one and only proposal, I had no choice,” she replied. “I’ve only done what I had to do, and it’s not good of me at all because I put my position at risk by being so selfish.”

  He frowned. “Selfish?”

  “Yes, exceedingly so. It was selfish of me to pretend to be a debutante for one night…or two. I knew if Lady Henrietta found out, she’d assume I’d stolen her things and sack me. Yet I still did it. I wasn’t thinking of my sister that night. I was only thinking of myself.”

  Justin came around to sit on the bench next to Madeline, facing the opposite direction. “You’re exceedingly hard on yourself, you know that?”

  She shook her head and turned to face him. “That’s kind of you to say. But let me ask you something, Lord Whitmore. If your sister found me wearing her clothing and pretending to be a guest at your party, wouldn’t you sack me?”

  Justin chuckled. “I don’t think Eliza would allow me to.”

  “That’s only because she knows what I’ve done and she’s a bit…forgive me saying so, but she’s…unconventional.”

  She’d made him laugh again. “I’m certain Eliza would take that as a compliment.”

  Madeline smiled too. “I think you’re right.”

  “Your point is well taken, however. Though speaking of unconventional, I don’t think I’ve ever known a maid to sneak into a party wearing borrowed clothing.”

  Madeline nodded. “I simply wanted to know how it felt. Just once. For one night.” She had a dreamy look in her eye.

  He leaned closer to her, breathing in the soft fragrance of lilacs. “And was it everything you hoped for?” he whispered.

  Her cheeks turned that adorable shade of pink again. “Yes.” She nodded. “Only, in my dreams, my gown is lavender, I am holding lilacs in my arms, and afterwards the gentleman I love invites me out on the balcony where he proposes marriage because he cannot live without me.” She shook her head and chuckled. “Of course, that is simply being fanciful.”

  “It’s not so bad to be fanciful,” Justin replied softly. He wanted to kiss her again. Desperately so. Damn. Damn. Damn. He’d had such noble intentions, but a few minutes in her presence turned them to ashes. It took most of his strength to break the contact of their gazes, and it took his remaining strength to hastily stand and dust his hands across his breeches.

  When he was several paces away from temptation, he shook his head and cleared his throat. “I must be off,” he announced.

  “Oh,” she said. “You’re leaving?”

  Was he imagining the disappointment on her face? Or was it wishful thinking?

  He turned on his heel so seeing her wouldn’t tempt him further. “Yes, I’m going out…to the club. I…er…feel free to stay and play the pianoforte as long as you wish. Indeed, you’re welcome to play it whenever you like.”

  He strode from the room, vowing not to look back. The sight of her sitting on the bench looking vulnerable and gorgeous would be too much. He needed to go out. Had to do it, in fact. He could not spend his evenings talking to a maid in his employ, wanting to kiss her…wanting to do much more. It was madness. Complete and utter madness. No good could come from it. Not only was she a maid, which meant she was strictly off limits to him, but she was a maid who had just informed him she wanted to marry for love. Which meant even if she was a countess, she was inappropriate for him. Love would play no role whatsoever in his future marriage.

  He was exactly what Eliza had called him, a rake. He was his father’s son. And what did rakes do? They went to clubs. They visited gaming hells and brothels. They charmed beautiful women and made love to them. Which was precisely what he was going to do this evening. He took the steps up to his room two at a time, trying to put as much distance between himself and the ungodly temptation of Madeline. After talking to her, sitting so close to her, breathing in her sweet lilac scent, he was hard. And there was one way to purge himself of that particular discomfort. He was going out.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Maddie was the epitome of efficiency the next day. She’d pressed and organized all of Lady Elizabeth’s clothing. She had put away all the deliveries from the modiste in order—by color—in the wardrobe. She’d ensured the wardrobe was swept and dusted and smelling of fresh lemon wax.

  She’d even taken the liberty of picking out the two most beautiful gowns to discuss with Lady Elizabeth when she returned. Her mistress would have to choose one for the ball the night of her debut. That night was nearly two months away, but it would be here before they knew it. Such events had a way of sneaking up on a young lady.

  Maddie had spent the early morning writing a letter to her sister. In it, she told Molly all about her wonderful new position in Lord Whitmore’s household. Of course, she’d left out the part where she’d been sacked and had somehow managed to kiss her new employer twice. But that was hardly something she intended to share with her younger sister. Molly worried about her, and Maddie didn’t want to add to the worries. Besides, she told the truth in her letter. She had procured a new position in a much better household for a significant increase in wages. It was the exact sort of thing that her sister would be happy to read.

  Maddie’s thoughts slipped to Lord Whitmore—Justin—only when she allowed them to. First, she’d spent a considerable amount of time admonishing herself for being a fool last night. Even with Lady Elizabeth’s permission, she shouldn’t have played the pianoforte. She was a maid, not a member of the family. But then she’d heard Lady Jessica playing earlier in the day, and the temptation to know if she still recalled how proved too great. It had been so long since Mama had taught her, but her fingers remembered everything, and it had been wonderful.

  When Lord Whitmore had walked into the room and asked her where she learned to play, she’d nearly shot to the ceiling in surprise. She’d barely been in her new position for a day before taking an unnecessary risk again. Anyone else might have sacked her on the spot, or at least reprimanded her. Justin had only encouraged her to keep playing.

  Then she’d been a complete ninny, boring him with the stories about her sister and her life before she’d come to London. And she’d all but accused him of being a rake. Of course, she’d heard it from his own sister, which seemed quite a reliable source, but it didn’t negate the fact that it had been extremely ill-mannered of her to mention it at all.

  And then he’d left—both her presence and the house. Of course, he had. That’s what rakes did. He was probably out carousing with friends at some den of inequity or other, drinking and entertaining women of ill repute. Maddie didn’t know precisely what that might entail, but she knew it involved more than kissing.

  That’s what had her so miserable this morning. It was also why she’d thrown herself into her work. Every time she thought about Justin kissing another woman, her stomach plummeted to her slippers and melancholy spread through her.

  It wasn’t as if she could hope to capture the favor of a marquess, for heaven’s sake. She was well aware of her present station in life. But it still made her exceedingly sad to think of him with someone else. Perhaps living in this lovely house and in such proximity to him hadn’t been the best idea after all. Not if it was going to make her unhappy every time he went out for the evening. And from what the other servants said, it was a nightly occurrence.