Then, she lunged at Madeline, raising her hand in blind fury, fingers curling into claws, aiming to give Madeline an open-palmed slap.
Madeline flinched, waiting for the blow to hit, but the strike never came. When her eyes opened, she saw Kenneth gripping the woman’s arm. He gripped it so hard that the woman whimpered.
“Get out,” he ordered. “Now.”
Chapter 21
“Get out,” Kenneth repeated. Madeline knew that her husband usually spoke as if he were a statue, but he seemed even more devoid of expression at the moment.
“Your Grace, I...” Lady Rose faltered.
The veins on his temple seemed to pop as he warned, “Leave my wife alone. If I hear that you have been near her for any reason, you will regret it. You will never be able to set foot in society again.I do believe you know me enough to understand that I take my threats very seriously.”
Kenneth did not just let go of the woman’s wrist; he shoved it down and away dismissively. Madeline could not help but gasp at the exchange, but she saw resignation in the other woman’s eyes before she left the library. She let out her breath. Lady Rose would probably never bother her again. After all, her husband had not only sent her out but also threatened her.
After the door clicked shut, there was silence between Madeline and Kenneth. She was still shaken by the other woman’s assault. What was it with her that a woman she had never done anythingto wanted to physically harm her? She was also shaken by her husband’s actions. He had seemed bored earlier. Then, he seemed almost ready to commit acts of violence. Yet, when she looked back at him, his face was completely smooth as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, her heart was still racing from the encounter.
For a moment, Kenneth had his back to her. He was still breathing hard, his shoulders heaving. His knuckles were white as he clenched his fists. Madeline wondered why the whole scene still affected him so.
When he turned around to face her, his face was back to being calm and almost expressionless. Only a flicker of concern in his eyes surfaced.
“Are you all right, Madeline?” he asked, his voice sounding rough.
Seeing Kenneth build up his walls quickly, Madeline could not help but do the same. She became aware of the handkerchief she was using to dab wine onto her stained dress. The stain remained, stubborn and mocking, even though she saw that some parts might have faded a little, or perhaps that was just wishful thinking.
“Of course,” she replied. “I am perfectly fine, Kenneth. It is just some spilled wine.”
“Spilled wine? No. You look like you have survived a battle,” he observed, narrowing his eyes. “Your hands are trembling, and you are dabbing a hole in your dress. Of course you are not fine.”
“No, I am fine, really!” she insisted as she continued to dab at her dress.
Then, a breathless, watery laugh escaped her lips. She waved her hand dismissively, but the resulting effect made it look like she was flailing a hand about. Even as she felt like choking, she tried to make everything look like it was merely a minor inconvenience.
“In fact, do you not think it improves the pattern? It adds a splash of color to my dress. By tomorrow morning, it will be the latest fashion. I am pretty certain.”
Madeline kept the fragile smile on her lips all throughout her little speech, trying to make the situation light.
He did not speak, but he tilted his head to one side as if assessing her. He seemed to see through her false cheer. To her horror, tears sprang from her eyes. She blinked furiously, not wanting Kenneth to see her in such distress, but, to her horror, a lone tear escaped and followed a path down her cheek.
Kenneth’s large hands reached out for her shoulders and pulled her firmly against his chest. Madeline was startled by the hug, stilling in his embrace. For a second there, she let herself rest in his solid warmth. He made her feel safe, even though she always had to try to guess what he was thinking. Her palms rested on his chest. She found herself closing her eyes. It was tempting to simply stay there in his arms.
“Kenneth, I am wetting your shirt. I assure you that I am fine,” she lied.
“Hush,” he murmured onto the top of her head, his arms sliding down to her waist so that he could hug her tighter. She could feel his heartbeat this way. “Stop it.”
“What are you trying to make me stop?” she asked, her voice cracking. Why did it feel so good to remain in his embrace?
“You do not have to pretend for me, Madeline,” Kenneth said softly, as he let his fingers make tapping gestures on her back. It was almost like a massage.
“I... I do not know what you mean,” she protested. “I am not pretending. I am fine, and I do not want this evening to be ruined, or—”
“I know what you are doing. I know what you arealwaysdoing, Madeline.” Kenneth’s voice had tightened, but his embrace remained gentle.
Madeline pulled back a little, narrowing her eyes at him. “What do you think I am doing?”
“You are exhausting yourself physically and emotionally trying to keep everyone around you happy,” Kenneth replied, not letting go of her. “You smile for everyone through your hardships and the insults hurled at you by women who are not even worth your little finger. You smile for me even when I am not behaving at my best. With all that in mind, you cannot persuade me that you are fine, Madeline.”
A heavy tear fell. She quickly reached to wipe it away, furious at herself, but Kenneth caught her hand and gently lowered it.
