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He misunderstood her anger. “I know. I know. My mother would say it was unforgivably rude, but look around!” He made a sweeping gesture. “There are so many people here! Harlo will never know I’ve left.”
“I’llknow.”
He gave her a conspirator’s grin. “But you’ll never tell. Shall I let Coretta know you’ll ride home with her?”
She hated manipulative, petty people, but she found herself saying, “No need. Reese is here, and I’m sure he’ll take me.”
Even that didn’t seem to catch Tivol’s attention. “All right. I’ll come by tomorrow and check on you.” And he patted her shoulder and strolled away.
It was all she could do not to stare after him with such blazing fury that he erupted into a pillar of fire that burned out within seconds to a pile of abandoned ash.
Tivol was probably right not to worry. Madeleine felt so tired and so wretched during the ride home that she couldn’t even flirt with Reese, and Reese seemed to be so worried about her that he didn’t even bother hinting that he loved her. Then, too, Jayla was sitting right behind them, close enough to overhear every word. It didn’t feel like the right time to indulge in dangerous dalliance.
Madeleine did, however, allow Reese to help her from the car and into the house and all the way up the stairs to the door of her bedroom. She didn’t actually need to lean on him for that whole journey, but she did it anyway. Jayla loitered in the shadows on the bottom story, either courteously giving them time to talk privately, or implacably waiting for him to leave so she could be sure he no longer posed a threat.
“I want to come check on you tomorrow,” Reese said as Madeleine transferred her hand from his arm to the doorknob. “But my schedule is already crammed full. The day after?”
“The day after would be good. Maybe we can go out for lunch.”
He offered a short bow. “I’ll look forward to it.”
She let herself into her room and managed to maintain a neutral, almost cheerful, aspect while the maid Ella undressed her. It wasn’t until she was finally alone, with the lights out and the curtains drawn and the soft covers pulled up to her chin, that she finally allowed herself to start crying. She couldn’t tell how many of the tears came from terror, how many from rage, how many from stark disillusionment, but they rose from an apparently bottomless source. Her body was exhausted before her passions were, and when she finally fell asleep, she was still curled around all three of those cheerless companions. Fear. Fury. And a sense of inconsolable loss.
Chapter Fifteen:
Madeleine
In the morning, Madeleine discovered it was just as well that Reese wasn’t planning to visit her, because her own day had gotten unexpectedly complicated.
Her father, who usually left the house quite early, was still on the premises when she went looking for breakfast at an hour so late it was almost lunchtime. She checked involuntarily upon seeing him in the small dining room, perusing some official-looking papers but clearly waiting for her.
“Madeleine,” he said, laying the papers aside. “How did you sleep?”
She sank to a chair across from him and spread a napkin across her lap as he studied her. “After tossing and turning for hours, I think I dropped off right before the sun came up,” she said. “Had I known you would still be here, I wouldn’t have come down in my robe and slippers!”
He waved this aside. “From all reports, you weren’t harmed. Is that true?”
The footman brought her a glass of juice and a plate of toast. She took a sip and nodded. “Untouched.”
“But I suppose there is no longer any ambiguity,” he answered. “This person was sent specifically to do you harm.”
“That was my conclusion as well,” she said as steadily as possible. “I had hoped that they would be able to question my attacker, but Harlo said—”
“She poisoned herself rather than submit to interrogation,” her father interrupted. “That is also what I was told.”
Madeleine spread preserves on her toast and took a small bite. Last night she had been ravenous. Today, still wrung out from the hours of weeping, she felt lethargic and ill. She’d been awake less than an hour and she already wanted to go back to bed. “So it seems we were right to hire a guard,” she said.
He drummed his fingers on the table. “I wonder if you would be safer at the Wellenden estate.”
She stared at him. “What?”
“Even a determined assassin might find it difficult to travel five hundred miles to track down his target. And Wellen House is staffed with an extensive personal guard. I think you would be safer there.”
“But I don’t want to go to Wellen House. And I doubt Heloise would want the responsibility of protecting me. She has plenty of other concerns.”
“You can discuss it with her this afternoon.”
“This afternoon?”
