Page 27 of Maid for the Marquess

“Lydia? Geraldine?” she asked anxiously.

“Will stay on here, with you. Lydia will be your lady’s maid. Mrs. Dougall will find a place for Geraldine. Something that will give her purpose but not be too taxing.”

“She is a wonderful seamstress, and she loves to bake. Her pastries are decadent.”

“Then I will instruct Mrs. Dougall to use her skills.”

“Are you certain, my lord?”

“Quite.” I paused, studying her face. “Do you fear me, Madeleine?”

She hesitated, and I took her hands in mine. I wanted to peel away the gloves, but I had a feeling she needed to trust me before she would show me what she was hiding under the leather. “I swear to you that you will not be mistreated here. You will have nothing to fear from the world—or from me. I will protect you, Madeleine. Your life will be vastly different from what you have known. You have only to say yes, and I will arrange it all.”

To my horror, her chin began to quiver, and tears filled her eyes. “Madeleine?” I asked. “Is the idea of being married to me so repugnant?”

She turned away, covering her face. I moved behind her, gently holding her shaking shoulders. “Speak your thoughts out loud, my sweet. I shall not be angry.”

She turned, her cheeks wet, her eyes bright in the waning light. “My lord, only days ago, I was cold, scared, and hungry. My life was nothing but pain and work. I felt only hatred and anger directed toward me. It was a continuous circle I thought would never be broken.”

I wiped the tears from under her eyes. “And now?”

“You took me from that. I am in a stunning garden, wearing a dress that makes me feel beautiful. I soaked in a bath for the first time in years. I feel clean and rejuvenated. There is a bed to sleep in with blankets. A fire to warm me. A full belly.” A sob escaped her lips. “And you are standing in front of me—a kind, wonderful man—asking me to marry you. Promising me I will never return to that place. Offering me the dream I kept hidden for so long. I am overwhelmed with gratitude and a feeling I had lost long ago.”

“Which was?” I asked tenderly.

“Hope.”

“Then you will agree?”

“Yes, my lord. I will marry you. I will strive to be the best wife I can be and make sure you never regret your decision. I would be proud to be your marchioness.”

I smiled at her and ran my fingers down her cheek. “I shall not regret anything. And you are correct. You will make a wonderful marchioness.”

Then I leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

I wanted her mouth, but for now, that would do.

We had a lifetime to explore the rest.

Another sob escaped her mouth, and she covered it. “Forgive my emotions, my lord. I should not bother you with such trivial feelings.”

I shook my head and removed her hand. “No, Madeleine, as your betrothed, I expect you to bother me with everything. Because it is not a bother—it is my privilege.”

Then I drew her into my arms, her head the perfect height for me to rest my chin upon. She fit well into my embrace, her tiny figure molding to my much larger one perfectly. As if made for me.

It was the strangest thought, and yet I liked it.

And it gave me the same hope she had that one day we would fit together in an entirely different way.

CHAPTER 10

MADELEINE

Iran my gloved hand along the beautiful chestnut mare’s muzzle. The air was cool and damp in the stables this morning. But the familiar scents of hay, horse, and saddle leather filled me with a sense of deep contentment, chasing any discomfort from the cold swirling about my new nankeen boots.

At Lord Wheaton’s request, I was dressed in my Pomona green riding habit, a jaunty hat that had been procured from the village milliner upon my head. The hats had been sent up at Mrs. Dougall’s request, and like the gowns she had managed to obtain on my behalf, I had fallen in love with each one. Choosing which to wear this morning had been its own gift in a sea of so many that I was beginning to become overwhelmed.

“Do you think she will suit as your mount?”