“You confound me.” He cleared his throat. “For once I’m trying to properly court a woman, and what do I find?”
He looked so forlorn that she couldn’t help but ask, “What?”
“It’s much more bloody difficult than I ever imagined.”
“Then quit bothering. You’re doing an awful job of wooing me anyway.”
He leaned away. “I feared as much. I’ll just have to try harder.”
“Don’t.” Her heart lurched at his pronouncement. If he tried harder, she might succumb again. He’d not given a good enough explanation. He wasn’t to be counted on.
“I’m afraid I’m rather mule-headed when set on a course. I know you don’t believe me, but I was forced to go to the tavern against my will.”
“You’re right,” she snapped. “I don’t believe you.” Not wanting to listen to anymore of his lies, she bounded away from the alcove and ran smack into an oncoming person. The collision took her breath away, but she managed to maintain her footing. Constance was not so lucky. The chambermaid fell backwards onto her bottom, the laden silver tray she’d been carrying clanked to the floor with enough noise to make Madelaine wince.
“I’m so sorry, milady.”
“I’m the one who should apologize.” Madelaine reached to help Constance up, but before the woman clasped onto Madelaine’s hand, Grey appeared and kneeling, helped Constance to her feet. Madelaine scowled at his interference, but she couldn’t very well be cross with him for lending a helping hand. She bent to pick up the chambermaid’s forgotten tray and when she rose, Grey and Constance were staring at each other rather peculiarly. Neither of them spoke a word. A funny, queasiness assaulted Madelaine, worsened by Constance’s strong, spicy perfume.
Madelaine looked from Grey to Constance, her stomach plummeting. The sudden dryness of her mouth forced her to swallow repeatedly. “Constance, do you ever get a night off?”
“Rarely. But the queen was in a generous mood yesterday and excused myself and another chambermaid for the night.” Constance’s gaze lingered on Grey.
“I hope you enjoyed yourself.” A dull ache pressed behind Madelaine’s right eye. She lifted her unusually heavy arm to rub her temple. The best thing for her heart would be to forget Grey and let her suspicions lay unconfirmed. But she couldn’t do it. She had to know if he’d been at the Merry Tavern with Constance. “Did you get to leave the castle and enjoy yourself or were you trapped here?”
Grey shifted from foot to foot, his gaze darting from Madelaine to Constance. Her queasiness intensified. The chambermaid looked at her oddly, and no wonder. Ladies-in-waiting didn’t converse with chambermaids let alone inquire as to how they spent their free time.
“Lady Madelaine.” Grey touched her elbow, and she instinctively pulled away. He’d hurt her once, she was not about to let him hurt her again. Worry creased his brow. “Your father is walking this way.”
Blinking, she glanced down the corridor, lifted her hand and waved. It was as if she was in a dream. Another person going through the motions, butherbody was moving. Her heart pounded in her ear. She had seconds to secure an answer. “Where did you go?”
When Constance’s gaze flew back to Grey’s, and his shoulders sagged as he dipped his head as if to give her permission, Madelaine ground her teeth. She didn’t need the chambermaid’s words to confirm what she now knew. “Never mind,” she said, barely above a whisper and turned to meet her father before he reached her. As Madelaine scurried down the hall, Constance’s words, “Too bad for you she’s a clever one,” echoed to her.
Clever indeed. She pasted a smile on her face for her father’s benefit. Not astute enough was more like it. A shrewd woman would have heeded the rumors about Grey and stayed as far away from the rake as possible.
Thirteen
The happy smile that lit Madelaine’s face when she embraced her father warmed Grey’s heart and helped him decide what to do. He couldn’t just walk away. Even if she wanted him to. He’d soothe her feelings and make things right. But first—he eyed the chambermaid, Constance. “You might have guessed…” his words trailed off at a glance at Madelaine. Her brow was furrowed and her father’s face was set into stern lines.
“Lady Madelaine is the woman you spoke of last night.” Constance finished his forgotten sentence for him.
“The very one.”
“She’s very pretty. But I doubt she’ll be willing to please you the way I offered to last night.”
“I feel certain you’re correct, but she’s intrigued me all the same.” Constance huffed beside him. “Not to say you’re not intriguing,” he amended. She was. And not long ago, he would have gladly accepted the offer to share her bed the previous evening, but the time had passed where all he wanted was a good romp. He wanted more. And he only had eyes for Madelaine.
“You’re sweet the way you try to appease me. A gold coin would go further though. You’re the first man to ever turn down my offer.”
He produced a gold coin and held it out. “If Lady Madelaine should question you…”
“She won’t. She’s a prideful one, she is.”
Grey’s gaze strayed to Madelaine. Why was she shaking her head? With any luck, it wasn’t in answer to being questioned as to whether she’d met anyone she had a tender for. He didn’t want to interrupt them, yet he didn’t want Madelaine to get away before he gained her forgiveness, and he wanted to greet her father. He refocused on Constance. “But if she should…”
“I’ll tell her the truth. You and I spoke for several hours and that was all. When I left, you were all merrily drinking.”
Damnation. The truth wouldn’t do at all. He didn’t want to lie to Madelaine, but the truth made him look like an ass. “Perhaps you could leave off the part about how long we spoke, and just say you talked with me for a moment.” He could explain the drinking away by saying they’d been celebrating finishing equerry training. Men would be men, after all.
