“Let him be.”
Madeline stayed quiet and still in her seat. She suddenly realized she had not been eating the entire time. She was surprised tofind herself walking into the dining room defiantly, but now she felt a warm undercurrent toward the man who had made her feel like she was on a battlefield. He commanded authority, as expected, but he genuinely seemed to care for his family.
“That was very... caring of you,” she murmured.
She did not intend to say those words out loud. Kenneth did not look at her. Instead, he picked up his wine glass again, gripping it as if it might escape.
“I was merely maintaining order.”
“Yes. That is true. But you also cared for them,” Madeline insisted. She leaned forward, a movement she did not exactly plan. When she moved, she realized her neckline was lower than usual. “May I ask about Malcolm’s wife? I do not know exactly what happened to her.”
Kenneth’s jaw clenched. The subject was obviously not something he would like to talk about.
In a flat voice, he replied, “She left them two years ago. It broke Malcolm. He has not been the same man since then. It is why he seeks the comfort of his bottles, not that I am condoning such self-destruction, but he is having a hard time coping with this.”
Madeline felt a twinge of sympathy. It was a situation that she could relate to. “I have seen the same thing happen to my father. After our mother died... He lost himself in drinking and gambling as well. Like you, I do not condone his actions. He could have been a better father to us. However, he is still struggling with finding his way back to full sobriety.”
“I hope Malcolm gets better,” Kenneth said quietly. “For his children’s sake. Also, for his own.”
“He might, in time.” Madeline turned her glass slowly between her fingers. “Though I think that the not knowing is the cruelest part of it. With my father, at least we understood what had broken him. My mother died, and he was grieving. But Malcolm's wife simply vanished, did she not? With no word, no reason given.” She shook her head. “To be left in the dark like that, never knowing why, must be a torment all its own. Sometimes I think people believe they are being kind by withholding the truth, sparing someone pain. But a person can come to terms with a hard truth. It is the silence that festers.”
Kenneth went very still.
“You think it kinder to tell a man a truth that will wound him?” he asked.
“I think a man deserves to know the truth of his own life,” she said simply. “However much it hurts. How else can he ever move past it? You cannot mend a wound you are not permitted to see.”
For a moment, Kenneth said nothing at all, and he pushed his chair back, ready to rise and retreat from the difficult conversation.
“Kenneth, wait.”
“What is it, Madeline?”
Kenneth watched his wife. There was certainly something different about her tonight. Yes, she seemed to have come with her own arsenal of seduction. Her neck was bare, and her cleavage more than hinted at the swells of her breasts, which he had not yet touched.
Willpower and pride perhaps gave him the strength to resist her. His nephew’s and niece’s antics, along with his brother’s drunkenness, somehow helped him distract himself.
Madeline was not making it easy for him. Tonight, she had chosen a color and style so unexpected that he had to stifle a gasp when he saw her. He hoped she had not noticed. Every primal instinct within him wanted to take her then and there, on the dining table. He was close to forgetting about all consequences and rules, especially now that the servants had begun leaving with the plates.
Once left alone, he did not know how much he could control.
“I have a surprise for you,” she said innocently. “The servants might be done with us, but that is because I have personally prepared your favorite dessert. I expect you to remain here to enjoy it.”
Chapter 16
“Why would you do that?” Kenneth asked, his voice raspy as his eyes more openly scanned her.
The dining room finally felt so empty. So intimate after the doors had shut behind the last footman. Madeline knew that how the rest of the night would pass would depend on her.
She rose from her end of the table. She did not want to keep the distance between them. She dared glide to the other side, moving her hips more than usual.
“Why not? I merely wanted to do something for you, husband,” she replied, batting her eyelashes innocently as she kept approaching until she was only a few inches away from him. She tilted her head, giving him a better view of her neck. The move emphasized the broad expanse of skin revealed by her low neckline. “Poor Cook nearly had an apoplexy when I dared enter her kitchen this afternoon. I thought she would chase me out with a rolling pin.”
“What did she do when you said you would prepare dessert?” Kenneth asked.
“Oh, she almost fainted! Then she threatened me by saying she would quit, but we reached an understanding eventually, just for this once.”
Kenneth’s pale blue eyes tracked her movements. First, his focus was on her face and her gestures. Then, his gaze slipped down to the swell of her breasts. Her awareness of it made her heart pound so hard she suspected he could see her pulse throbbing at the base of her neck.
