Page 56 of Contracted as His Countess

She swung her feet out of bed and reached for her wrapper. She would go and wake Jack, tell him that in the morning they must go down to Kent and confront Lansing. The bare boards were cold on her warm feet and the shock jerked her fully awake. What if Jack thought this was an excuse, that she was trying to blame Lansing for her own decision to cheat him?

Lansing must be confronted, made to give up the books, but he would hide behind the trust—she knew that. He’d argue that Jack had no right of audit and by the time they had fought that to a standstill he would probably have been able to cover his tracks. But he could not refuse her and he knew she would not have the knowledge to discover what was wrong.

But she did know an expert and one who would help her.

‘Rooting out the discrepancies in the books, dealing with incompetence and corruption. Fascinating...’ Richard’s voice at the masquerade, telling her about his new life.

Her desk was in the corner of her chamber and she wrote swiftly, outlining the problem, but not telling Richard of Jack’s anger and accusations, only that she needed to gain access to the books before Lansing could change anything.

If you can help me, do not come to the house openly. Send me a note on your arrival at the Dersington Arms.

She could only hope Richard did not refuse on the very reasonable grounds that her husband could provide transport and an accountant, even if he could not demand to see the books himself.

With the letter addressed she went back to bed and lay awake, wondering if Jack was ever going to forgive her for her actions, even if she gave him proof that they had been meant for the best.

* * *

Madelyn looked drained and he knew that he probably appeared just as bad. Jack managed not to look at his reflection in the glass. He had tossed and turned for most of the night, listening for sounds from the bedchamber next door, but there was nothing. No loud sobs, at least. He felt enough of a brute without that on his conscience.

At about three in the morning, when he had been jerked fully awake by the sound of her moving about, he wondered if he should simply accept what she had said, make the effort to believe her, to trust blindly. Would he be a fool, a man blinded by feelings he was half-afraid to acknowledge and gulled by his wife?

At five, standing at the window and watching the morning sun bring the neglected grounds to life, he admitted to himself that he had fallen in love with Madelyn. And she either hated him now for his lack of trust and anger or she was smiling behind a mask of indignation at his discomfiture. But he had to learn to trust somehow and if it was not with the woman he loved, then with whom?

Now he watched his wife over the breakfast table as she made polite, stilted, conversation with Lyminge, who looked acutely uncomfortable at being in the middle of domestic tension and was probably itching to escape back to the company of Paulson, who was apparently taking his breakfast in his room.

Madelyn finished reducing a bread roll to crumbs, pushed away her coffee cup and stood up.

Jack reached the door before her. ‘I would like to speak with you. We will not be disturbed in the study.’

‘Very well, my lord,’ she said, her voice colourless.

She stood in front of the desk as though expecting him to take his seat on the other side and deliver a lecture and looked up, colour flooding her face, when he took her hand and turned her to face him.

‘I should not have lost my temper with you yesterday. I apologise. I accept that you had no idea what effect paying off the debts and loans would have.’

He had expected her to smile, to look relieved, happy even. Instead, she bit her lip, then said, ‘On what grounds have you come to believe that?’

‘On no grounds. I have none. But it seems to me that I should be able to take my wife’s word on any matter.’

‘I see.’ She nodded slowly, then raised her head to look into his eyes, her own darker than he had ever seen them. ‘It is a matter of principle, then?’

‘Yes.’ Jack smiled, although it was difficult under that steady gaze. This was not what he expected and he did not understand.

‘That is very trusting of you.’

‘I thought I should make the effort.’ That had not come out quite as he meant it. ‘We are married now.’

‘And there is no going back,’ she said carefully, as though each word was eggshell thin and might break. ‘So we must make the best of it.’

‘Exactly. I do not expect this is the last...misunderstanding we will have.’

Madelyn sighed. ‘No, I am quite sure it is not. Is that all?’

She’d caught him off balance, trying to decide whether it would be wise to kiss her now and tell her he loved her. With that cool question it was clear that a kiss would not be wise, let alone a declaration. There had been no hope he could detect that perhaps he would kiss her, not the faintest glimmer of that joy he had seen in her face only yesterday.

Had he been wrong and she felt nothing for him, had intended to cheat him and was even now despising him for apologising weakly for assuming the worst? Or had he hurt her so badly that he had crushed that spark and would never be able to fan it back into life again?

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, that is all.’

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