Page 22 of Maid for the Marquess

“I am fine. Do not fret so,” I assured her.

The footman reappeared, handing me one of my walking sticks. I stepped from the carriage gingerly, pleased at how much better my foot felt. I turned, holding out my hand for Madeleine to assist her in stepping down. She did so, and I marveled at how tiny she was next to me. She reached to my chest, and I felt the incredible draw of wanting to wrap my arms around her, rest my chin on her dark hair, and breathe her in. While seated close in the carriage, her light scent of lilacs had been constant. I found it pleasant and thought how it suited her.

She stared past me in wonder at my estate, and I followed her gaze, smiling at the look of delight on her lovely face.

“Come,” I said, tugging on her hand and placing it into the crook of my arm. “I am anxious to show you my home.”

“It is wondrous, my lord.”

We made our way to the door, the steps making me grateful for the support of the walking stick. Mrs. Dougall, my housekeeper, waited, patient but worried for me. “My lord, are you well?”

I waved her off. “A simple sprain.” I paused, suddenly at a loss for words. How did I explain my unexpected guest? I decided brevity was the best solution.

“Mrs. Dougall, may I present Miss Madeleine Smythe? She will be staying with us.”

She gave Madeleine a kind smile. “Welcome to Wheaton.”

Madeleine returned her smile with a small bob and a murmured thank you. I resisted the temptation to tell her that she bowed to no one, but I decided to let it go for now. She was nervous and worried. I could see her hand twisting and grasping at her too-large gown, her unease evident in the tightness of her voice and the tension in her shoulders.

“Kindly show her to her room,” I asked.

“Very good, my lord.”

I allowed Madeleine to walk in ahead of me, pausing as Mrs. Dougall asked me a question.

“Which room shall I prepare?”

I withheld telling her that Madeleine would be taking over the marchioness room next to mine. “The rose room. I believe she would enjoy a bath and some quiet time. Once you have settled her, please see me in my study. I have much to discuss with you.”

“Of course. And Mr. Warwick?”

“Is behind a day or two. Knight was hurt and required a rest.” I rubbed my eyes. “And he will be bringing other guests.”

She only nodded, not asking who or any other questions. “I will attend to it all.”

“Thank you.”

Two hours later, I was in my study, surrounded by the warm familiarity of being home. I had always preferred Wheaton to town. The quiet to the bustle of London. The aroma of fresh air and good earth to the cloying scent of the crowded ballrooms and unpleasant smell of the city. Too many bodies crammed together, producing too much noise and odor for my taste.

My valet wrapped my foot, his work quick and efficient. I missed the gentle touch of Madeleine’s hands on my skin, but before we separated in the lower hallway, she had pressed her small jar of liniment into my hand, instructing me to use it every few hours. Jones had added some before he bandaged the injured limb, but it was far rougher treatment than I had received earlier from Madeleine.

A knock on my door paused my thoughts, and I called for the person to enter, not surprised to see Mrs. Dougall come in. She carried a tray, setting it on the desk.

“I thought you might be in need of some food, my lord.”

“Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”

“I took a tray to the little mistress as well.”

I was amused at her words. That was how Geraldine described her. “How is she faring?”

She pursed her lips. “Might I speak plainly, my lord?”

“Please do.”

“Confused and bewildered. She thought I had taken her to the wrong room. She believed she should be in the servants’ quarters, but I assured her she was in the right place. When the bath was ready, I offered to help, but she insisted she was fine. I had the feeling the bath was an unexpected treat for her.”

“She is, ah, not used to being offered help or nicer things.”