His jaw ached from the punch he’d received only a few moments ago, and no doubt Aunt Vee would be pelting him with anxious questions about it the moment he saw her. Of course, given the situation at hand with his family, a bruised jaw would be the very least of their worries.
His immediate concern now, however, was Madeline. It felt like she’d been gone a very long time. He pulled out his pocket watch, a gift from Frank on his sixteenth birthday, and checked the time. He had no idea how long she’d been gone and did not trust his own accounting for the passage of minutes at the moment. The fracas of the fight had seemed to take forever, though it was probably over in a few terrifying minutes. He’d been afraid for her, but she’d moved with such a cool efficiency that the fight was mostly over before it had begun. The effectiveness at which she’d dispatched those two hooligans both impressed and saddened him. He’d offered her a refuge from all of that. A place where she’d never had to sleep with one eye open, waiting for the next stranger to come banging on the door. He’d hire a damn bodyguard for The Everwell Society if that’s what she’d needed. He would move heaven and earth for her.
Beau ran his thumb over the embossed brass watch cover. What a strange month it had been. He’d lost a father and gained another. An unexpected lump formed in his throat at the thought of Frank da Silva and Hollis Chandler. Beau wasn’t sure he loved Frank, but he managed to miss him just the same. He would need to channel Frank’s sharpness and calculating mind when he walked into the boardroom at Silver Lumber, and when he had to deal with whatever mess Neil had left. For his sister, however, he would find the gentleness of Hollis to soothe her.
The train had pulled into Uniacke Station, nearly halfway between Windsor and Halifax. Still, Madeline had not returned. Perhaps she’d gone to get some air after the fight or to refresh herself. Perhaps she actually had gone in search of iodine or some salve for his face. What he’d wanted to tell her was the medicine he needed was something to cure the gnawing ache in his chest at the thought of losing her.
Unable to sit any longer, he got to his feet. The train started to pull away, and he entertained the momentary panic that she’d disembarked, but he’d set that thought aside seconds after it had entered his mind. She would see the job through.
If he only had an hour or so left to be with her, he wanted every last second of it.
He walked down the narrow corridor of the compartment car, through to the second-class parlour car. It was half full of gentlemen sitting in overstuffed leather chairs, laughing over tumblers of liquor and cigars. Thwarted, he turned around, intent on heading up toward the open coaches further up the line, when two figures appeared up ahead, standing just outside their compartment door. One he recognized immediately. It was Madeline, talking intently to a shorter man. She was still, her eyes hard. He saw her lips moving, but from here it was impossible to see who she was speaking to.
Unease settled on him, and he approached with caution. He’d seen Madeline handle herself with ease, but he would not for a moment take her safety for granted. As he got closer, he could better make out the gentleman she was speaking with. Anger flared in his gut as he recognized Nelson Taylor. Any rational thought Beau might have made about her capacity to defend herself against Taylor evaporated. And it was possible that Madeline had no desire for Beau intervene on her behalf. Their relationship, she’d suggested, had been based in a contract. A business deal.
As he walked toward Nelson, his hands clenched at his sides, Beau was about to tear that contract to pieces.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Maddy stood in the corner of the compartment car, the narrow corridor blocked by Nelson who’d found her as she was returning to her seat with a small bottle of iodine. Her face was hot, betraying any sense of calm she wanted to portray. Damn him, and herself, for allowing him to so easily unnerve her.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I just wanted to be sure it was you. I had my suspicions of course, but I wasn’t certain until I’d spied your name in one of the books in Mr. da Silva’s little collection.”
Maddy swallowed her disgust at the idea that Nelson had been pawing at her books. He must have been the person who’d shelved her little poetry book in the wrong place.
“I didn’t realize you were working for the da Silvas,” he continued, his voice oozing that same condescending tone he’d thrown at her when they were younger. “Do they know they have a violent criminal in their midst?”
“I don’t need to speak to you,” she said, her fingers gripping the bottle so tightly she thought it could break under the pressure. “Now if you will excuse me?—”
She moved to get around him, but he stepped into her path. She cast a glance for a porter, but there were none. And she would not give Nelson the satisfaction of calling for help.
“They called for your head,” he said, his mouth twisting into a half-sneer. “You should have seen his parents, distraught after losing their only son.”
Maddy knew he was going to drag Malcolm’s death into this encounter—they had been best friends after all—but even she was taken aback by how quickly he’d wielded it over her head like a weapon.
“And I wonder how his poor parents would sleep at night knowing that their son was a violent, pathetic drunk grasping for my father’s money?” she said.
He blinked, as if he was taken aback.
“You hoyden,” he said. “I wonder how you sleep at night.”
“Don’t waste your time wondering about me,” she replied. “I’ve spent years thinking about that horrible night. I was allowed to defend myself.”
“You broke Malcolm’s heart,” he protested. “He was babbling on about losing you. If you had chosen me, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have tried to take liberties with you.”
Unable to help herself, she laughed at the sheer audacity of his declaration.
“What are you saying, Nelson? That you would have treated your prized sow with more respect?” A rush of memories—pleasant ones, found their way through fog of pain that had enveloped her when she’d thought about the past. Of Phillipa, taking her home to Everwell. Of Rimple and Elouise, both determined in their own way to help Maddy believe in her singular type of beauty. Of Gemma’s gentle presence. Jeremy Webber taking the time to box with her, gifting her plants from his hot house. Annie Chandler, who’d made her a beautiful birthday supper and offered her friendship. All these people in her life who’d surrounded her with patience, respect, and even love. And then there was Beau, who’d worshipped her. Who believed in her more than she believed in herself. Who loved her.
Maddy drew herself up, her grip loosening on the bottle of iodine, as she put her hands on her hips and looked down on Nelson.
“I don’t think you realize that your opinion doesn’t mean a sweet damn to me,” she said. “I’m no longer surrounded by people with such small opinions of themselves that they have to tear down someone else to feel important. It took too me far too long to realize that, but that is my fault.”
He blinked, sputtering a bit, before he countered with the only weapon he had left.
“You’ll care soon enough. Malcolm’s mother is dead,” he said. “But how eager his father might be to see you swing for that killing.”
