she was home before it could fall again. She thought no more of the marquis’s invitation or of her refusal.
Chapter Two
‘You should not wear a sleeveless gown,’ Madeline’s maid said as she brought the pale-blue silk dress that morning. ‘It will show the bruises on your arm, my lady.’
‘It is the gown my husband purchased for me to wear at the wedding of his friend’s daughter. I have a new hat to wear with it, which is most becoming,’ Madeline replied. ‘You must powder the bruises on my upper arms and my breast, and I will wear a fichu of lace in the bodice of my gown and a stole to cover my arms. Perhaps no one will notice.’
‘Perhaps,’ Sally said and frowned. ‘Why does he do these things, my lady—and when he knows you will be seen in public?’
Madeline bit her lip, blinking back the tears that hovered. She’d steadfastly refused to weep when her husband punished her for not receiving his attentions with the enthusiasm he demanded of her. He’d called her a block of ice when he’d visited her bed the previous night and his hands had gripped her arms so hard as he shook her that his fingers left dark bruises. Sometimes he hit her in other places, but was usually careful to abuse a part of her body that was not on show when she was in company.
‘You are an unfeeling wretch,’ he’d shouted at her, when he’d come to her room. ‘Damn you! I’ve given you everything you could possibly desire: carriages and horses, jewels, clothes and a house in London. What more do you want?’
Madeline had not answered him at once, because what could she say? Her silence infuriated him and he’d shaken her. She had tried to apologise, but that only made him angrier. He blamed his failure in the marriage bed on her coldness, her icy indifference to his love making, and perhaps she was to blame, for a husband was entitled to some warmth from his wife. It was not that she ever struggled or refused, but she could not be the whore he desired.
‘I want nothing you can give me,’ she answered proudly. ‘If I am not satisfactory, I pray you divorce me. Give me my freedom and take another wife.’
‘And have the whole of society laughing at me?’ His eyes narrowed and he’d grabbed her by her arms, his fingers biting deep into her tender flesh. ‘You promised me a child and you’ll do your duty, madam, or I’ll beat you until you are black and blue.’ As yet he’d done little more than pinch Madeline and shake her or throw bitter words at her, but something told her that he meant this new threat and next time he 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
