punished her it would be severe.
‘I have not repulsed you,’ Madeline said, raising her head. ‘If you want more than I can give, I am sorry. I cannot give what I do not have—and I do not love you.’
‘Who is he?’ Count Lethbridge’s eyes narrowed in fury. He was a man of five and forty, not ill favoured though harsh of expression and tongue and of a violent temper. He shook her until she went limp like a rag doll and, when he let her go, she sank in a faint to the floor. ‘Your fainting will not save you, madam. I’ve paid for your services and even a whore would smile at me when I took her.’
Coming to herself, Madeline looked up at him. ‘I have not betrayed my vows despite your unkindness to me. I do not see what more I can do to please you, sir.’
‘The reckoning is coming, madam. I shall have you even if I force you. Your coldness will not deny me next time.’
Madeline had not answered him. Sometimes she wished that he might take what he needed from her, by force if necessary. In truth, a child might have helped to fill the emptiness inside her, but though he might bluster and threaten, she knew that when he came to her again it would be useless. She would lie unresisting, her eyes closed, but after some fumbling he would curse, angry at his failure, and then start to pinch and abuse her.
If only she could bear him a son and be allowed to retire to the country, leaving him to his mistresses and the life he enjoyed in London, but until that happened he would keep her here and she must bear his unkindness.
Her only defence was to face him proudly. He had done little more than bruise her, but she knew that he no longer felt tenderness towards her and had regretted his bargain. He feared being ridiculed and would not divorce her or let her live alone, which meant there was only one way he could be free of her.
Only her death would set them both free.
Lethbridge was a brute, but she did not think him a murderer. Perhaps he hoped that she would become so unhappy that she would save him the bother and take her own life? Perhaps it would be the best way for both of them.
Madeline held back her tears. She would make herself think of something else...of the look in Hal’s eyes when he’d seen her. Just for a moment she’d thought he smiled before turning away...
‘You look so beautiful, my lady,’ Sally said, recalling her thoughts to the present. Then, touching Madeline’s arm gently, ‘Why do you not run away? Leave him and return to your family?’
‘My father would send me back,’ Madeline said sadly. ‘I am his wife and in law he could force me to return. My father would suffer if he defied him for my sake.’
Nothing had changed since their marriage. The count had not returned her father’s notes as he’d promised when she married him, but simply kept them as a threat to use against her. Her father could not offer her a refuge because if he did Lethbridge would ruin him.
Tears caught in Madeline’s throat as she allowed her maid to place the confection of lace and ribbons on her head. A glance in the mirror showed her perfectly arranged red-gold hair that hung in one long ringlet over her shoulder. Magnificent pearls hung from her lobes and she had one string of large creamy pearls about her white throat, which were fastened with a diamond clasp. On her right hand she had a ring of diamonds and emeralds and a large splendid teardrop diamond adorned the third finger of her left hand, together with the thin band of gold that marked her servitude as a wife.
For a moment she was tempted to tear off all her jewels, refuse to accompany Lethbridge to the wedding and run away. If only there were some way that she could simply disappear and never be forced to return to her unkind husband.
Giving her head a little shake, she dismissed the idea. She must honour her bargain or her father would be punished in her stead. She painted a look of cool pride on her face, for she would never allow her husband to see that she was distressed.
She was going to a wedding and she must be gay and bright so that everyone would tell Lethbridge how fortunate he was to have such a beautiful wife and then perhaps he might forget his threat to punish her.
If only she’d run away with Hal the day he’d asked her...but her loyalty to her father had prevented her from seeking happiness then, just as it did now.
Yet only her memories of Hal sustained her when her life seemed too terrible to bear.
* * *
Standing up with Adam in church, as his best man, was a pleasure and helped to dispel the dark clouds that had hung over Hal since the murder of his cousin Mark. He, Mark, Paul and Adam had come through the war with Napoleon’s France together, only for his eldest cousin Mark to be shot down in cold blood by a rogue at his own home. Between them, Adam, Paul and Hallam had caught and punished Mark’s murderer, but it had left a shadow on their lives.
Adam’s wedding was the time for them to put the sadness of the recent past behind them. Lord Ravenscar had wanted it to happen, because he said it was what Mark would have wanted.
‘My son would not wish us to mourn him for month after month, even if we do so in our hearts,’ he’d told Adam when he offered to postpone the wedding until a year had passed. ‘You must marry, Adam. Miss Jenny Hastings is a beautiful young lady and I shall be glad if you will bring her to stay with me sometimes.’
Adam had promised he would when they returned from their honeymoon. After a stay in Scotland, they were to return to Ravenscar for a time before taking a long journey to France and then on to Italy, where Paul had gone in an effort to forget the pain and grief his brother’s death had caused him. Hallam suspected that there was more to Paul’s extreme distress...a little matter of being in love with Lucy Dawlish, the girl who had been expected to marry Mark Ravenscar.
Women could be the very devil, Hallam thought, his thoughts drifting away from the ceremony after he’d done his part and supplied the rings. He watched his cousin and Jenny approach the high altar for the private blessing they would share with the vicar before going off to sign their names. His mouth hardened, as he thought of the woman that he’d been so much in love with some four years previously. Maddie had married her count, and he’d seen how well she’d settled into her new life at Devenish’s ball. How beautiful she’d looked that evening, pale and lovely like a marble statue. The young vibrant girl he had known was nowhere to be seen.
The thought caught at his throat, restricting his breathing and causing him pain somewhere in the region of his heart. What a fool he was to care what Maddie might or might not be doing! Hallam had done his best to forget her in the arms of a mistress, but after the first flush of anger had passed, he had parted company from the very obliging married lady. He believed she was now enjoying a similar arrangement with another officer. Her husband had his heirs and was apparently content to allow his wife her pleasures providing she did not interfere with his; he’d married her for the fortune she brought him.
Hallam’s mouth curled at the notion of such an arrangement, though he knew that several of his friends had married either for money or land and were seemingly content in similar marriages. It would not do for Hallam. He would not have taken up with the obliging Lady Meadows had she not made it clear she was interested in an arrangement. In truth, it had brought him only physical relief, for his heart belonged to one woman—a woman he could never have.
What had Madeline done to him that he could not be interested in any other woman? Bitterness swept through him, because he wanted neither a marriage of convenience nor the caresses of a mistress. Even in the lady’s bed, he’d known a sick longing
