“No, thank you. Mrs. Dalton usually brings me supper on a tray.”
Feeling a little shaken, Madeline nodded and left the room, promising to return later for a visit and perhaps a game of cards. She walked down the stairs, sliding her fingers along the smooth oak handrail that swept round in a scroll to the newel post at the bottom. She ventured into the stone kitchen at the back of the house to find Mrs. Dalton at the large fireplace, spooning drippings over a crispy-looking hen on a spit. The glorious smells of roasting poultry filled Madeline’s senses and her mouth began to water.
Mrs. Dalton wiped her hands on her apron and straightened, then noticed Madeline in the doorway. “Hello, dear. Come in and sit down.”
Madeline moved into the room. “After six weeks at sea, Mrs. Dalton, this kitchen smells like paradise. Can I help you with anything?”
“Not today. You’ve just arrived. Tomorrow you can help.”
Just then, footsteps pounded over the wide floorboards in the center hall and stopped in the doorway. Madeline, somehow recognizing the sound of Adam’s boots, turned with a sudden nervous sensation in her belly.
“Miss Oxley, may I speak with you, please?” His tone was serious and steely.
She swallowed. “Of course.”
He led her into his private study, a large room with dark green wallpaper and a fireplace flanked by bookcases built into the walls. The rug was soft under her shoes.
Adam stopped in the center of the room, faced her and clasped his hands behind his back. “I realize you’ve barely had a chance to settle in, but I would like to send Jacob back to the fort this afternoon with the letter, to see that it gets to Halifax with the next traveler.”
“The letter?”
Distracted, she gazed at Adam’s dark features—the set of his jaw, the straight line of his nose. His black coat was gone now, and he wore a white linen shirt with plentiful gathers off his broad shoulders, and a navy silk embroidered waistcoat that hugged the masculine shape of his torso.
He had filled out since the days she’d known him in Yorkshire. He had been slender then. Now he seemed stronger, more muscular. She suddenly thought of all her romantic daydreams during the crossing, how she had imagined Adam kissing her and touching her on their wedding night. She’d imagined all of it in great detail—the way he would look at her with desire and love in his eyes. She’d imagined him laying her onto his bed and covering her body with his own. The feelings of love she’d experienced at those moments had seemed so true. Theystillseemed true.
“The letter to my solicitor in London,” he said. “I wish also to write to Diana, of course. You mentioned you had the address where she is staying.”
Torn abruptly from her fantasy, Madeline felt a heaviness settle in her stomach. “Yes, I have it. In one of my trunks. But I haven’t unpacked them yet. I don’t know where—”
“They’re upstairs in Penelope’s room. You were resting when they arrived and I did not wish to disturb you.”
“I see.” Speaking to him now, she had to remind herself that whatever she had fantasized about during the crossing was just that—a fantasy. She and Adam were strangers. There was nothing between them.Nothing.
“I’ll get it right away,” she replied in a congenial tone, then turned to go.
“Madeline—” He took what sounded like an anxious step forward.
She stopped but didn’t turn around. She didn’t want to see his face.
Nor did she want him to see that her smile was not real. She didn’t want him to know that she was disappointed or unhappy or affected in any way. She didn’t want him to know anything.
“Thank you,” he said simply, and there was a hint of regret in his voice.
Regret? Over what part of the day, exactly? she wondered.
She nodded and walked out of the room, all the while trying to ignore the questions and hopes still dashing about in her brain. Trying to ignore the way her skin had erupted in gooseflesh just from the mere sound of his voice and the way he looked, standing before her, here in the flesh.
Oh, it would not do her any good to continue her fantasies about him. To continue to think of him in a romantic way. She had to stifle these reactions. She had to remind herself ten times a day if necessary that he was likely going to be her sister’s husband one day soon.
If she knew what was good for her, she would throttle her hopes and never let them get away from her again.
Chapter Four
Madeline sat at the long, oak table in the dining room, trying very hard not to look at Adam, because every time she did, the urge to stare at him was something close to crippling.
She couldn’t explain it. She didn’t want to stare. She wanted all these desires to go away. She thought theywouldafter what had occurred at the fort, after he’d humiliated her and accused her of deceiving him. She thought that the cold, hard reality of the man Adam had become would jolt her out of her fantasy, and that she would feel nothing for him.
Unfortunately, instead of feeling nothing, she felt everything. One minute she was angry at him. The next minute, after all her ministrations to remain indifferent, she was caught up in the intoxicating dream of him. To be in his presence here tonight made her feel almost short of breath. He sat at the head of the table, his clean, white neckcloth presented in a neat ruffle, his large hands strong and sure. Why couldn’t she stop noticing how handsome he was?
