“Don’t worry about Madelaine living.” The thought of losing Madelaineandhis sister hollowed out his stomach.
“For you,” Liz said. “Silly fool. She’s perfect for you. Can’t have her dying. Convinced yourself you don’t need love.” Liz sighed, her eyes fluttering closed. “But you do. You need her. She’ll never hurt you as Father has.”
“Shh.” He tried to soothe her. With a sigh, she settled into the blanket, and he pulled the cover up under her chin. As he watched her fall into a light sleep and then the deeper one of dreams, he moved from the bed so as not to disturb her and pulled a chair beside the bed. He tugged off his jacket and cravat and leaned back to wait. If the physician, his aunt and Madelaine were returning, there was no sense in him going in search of them. He’d likely miss them anyway. He couldn’t stomach the thought of leaving Liz alone. He slumped in the chair and rubbed his aching neck. Liz’s words rang through his head.
His sister was partially right, he had convinced himself he didn’t need love, but finding out the real reason his father and Edward had always seemed to exclude him and not want him around had released some unknown constraint within him. He’d felt it these last few days. A lessening of whatever invisible force had driven him from one scandalous pursuit to the next. Knowing Madelaine and chancing his heart was something he desperately wanted.
What he wasn’t entirely certain of was whether she’d welcome his pursuit after he told her that her father had denied his courtship. And a deuced irritating voice kept whispering that he might be selfish in pursuing her. She’d have to go against her father’s wishes,anddidn’t she deserve more than a husband who would lie to her? Still, he wasn’t selfless enough to let her simply fade out of his life. There was something special about her, some kindred longing in her eyes that moved him.
The door creaked open, and as if summoned by his thoughts of her, Madelaine drifted into the room, her lilac skirts swishing around her ankles. She had a mound of cloths under one elbow and a pitcher of water in her hand. As she moved further into the room, her eyes lit up and a relieved smile came to her face. “You’re here!”
Without a word, he stood and went to her. Taking the pitcher of water he set it on the washstand, then moved close to her so their talking would not disturb Liz. “Did you doubt I’d come? Liz is my sister.”
“Well, no.” Madelaine bit her lip. “But after the doctor said it may be consumption and the queen had Elizabeth moved to these quarters, some of the other ladies-in-waiting said how awful it would be to die as Elizabeth was going to—all alone with no one but the physician to keep her company.”
He clenched his jaw, a string of blistering words on the tip of his tongue. He settled on a rather mild statement in case Liz could somehow hear him. “Those women are vain nitwits who know nothing of me and the love I hold for my sister. Death does not scare me, Madelaine, if it means my presence comforts Liz.”
“Me, either.”
The pull of a real smile tugged at his lips. “I was afraid you might say that.”
Madelaine’s eyes grew big. “Well, then. I suspect you now see the real, stubborn me. If you’d like to change your mind about courting me, I understand.”
“On the contrary. The real you I’m glimpsing makes me want you even more.”
A smile played at her lips, though the dark smudges under her eyes and the wisps of disheveled hair framing her face so beautifully reminded him of the gravity of his sister’s situation.
Needing for one second to feel the comfort touching Madelaine would offer, he pulled her to him and brushed a quick, light kiss across her warm lips. The contact moved like lightning through his veins. The last thing he wanted to do was release her, especially when a low moan escaped her. But he did before anyone had the chance to pass by the open door, and she was compromised. He may well indeed end up marrying her, but he’d not have her name besmirched to see the deed accomplished.
Fifteen
Madelaine’s sleep had been far from restful this past week. Worry over Elizabeth’s worsening condition awoke her as it had all week like clockwork. She dressed and trudged groggily down the five corridors and two flights of stairs toward the isolated hall where Elizabeth had been moved. If Grey was in the room, she wouldn’t go in, just as she hadn’t the last three nights.
She had to limit the time she was alone with him. It wasn’t proper. Not to mention Grey had told her Father had denied his courtship. Until she could speak with her father and ascertain what his objection was and perhaps persuade him differently, she didn’t want to go against his wishes. She’d hurt her mother by being so stubborn, and it was too late to make amends, but she was determined never to hurt her father. She would be a model daughter, even if it killed her.What if Grey finds someone else?Madelaine clenched her teeth. She hated the voice of doubt inside her head.
She pushed the thought away. There was no sense worrying over something she felt confident could be changed. Likely, someone had whispered in her father’s ear of Grey’s reputation as a rake. She’d simply explain to Father that he was wrong and tell him how Grey was with his sister. Father would have to change his mind. He’d always been a very reasonable man. Well, except for when he’d insisted she had to find a husband at Court. Still, a part of her understood he was only trying to secure the best future for her.
Coming close to Elizabeth’s door, Madelaine took extra care not to make a sound. She just wanted to reassure herself that Elizabeth was still alive. She prayed Helen was there and not Grey. Every time she saw him, she had to fight the compulsion to talk to him, and after the dream she’d just had about him, her need to be close to him was like a consuming hunger.
She cracked open Elizabeth’s door. Her pulse skittered at the sight of Grey by his sister’s side, his head bent and his hands clasped together in front of him. His deep murmur floated to Madelaine, and her mouth dropped open. Grey was a praying man? She listened closer, her eyes bugging. Not only was Grey praying, he was begging God to spare his sister’s life and take him instead. No, no, no, foolish man! Tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t live without him. She quickly said a prayer for Elizabeth’s recovery and Grey’s continuing health.
She pulled the door quietly closed and sagged against the wall. She was a fool to think she’d put up some barrier between herself and Grey. Seeing him now begging for his sister’s life was like a bucket of cold water thrown on her head. There were not enough barriers in the world to guard her heart from Grey.
The way he’d helped care for his sister had shown him to be loving and honorable and everything she had ever dreamed of in a man. When had she started to lose her heart to him? She laughed at that. Most likely the moment she’d met him in Golden Square.
She moaned and pressed her hand over her mouth to hush herself. Even if she’d been sensible enough not to melt like a schoolgirl at his touch, no warm-blooded woman could keep herself fortified against a man who brushed his sister’s hair, patiently gave her sips of water and broth, and threatened bodily harm to the physician that had come to bleed Elizabeth.
Madelaine’s heart pounded in her ears. The wisest thing she could do was avoid him completely until she could speak with her father. That way she would ensure not losing her senses. Pressing away from the wall, she straightened and made her way back to her room. She couldn’t wait a whole month to speak with Grey again. It was more than she could stand.
But what could she do? As she undressed, she considered her prospects. There was only one thing to bring her father back sooner. She sat down and dipped her quill in ink. How should she word her letter to Father? If she was careful with her words, she’d not be lying and Father would come quickly. Smiling at her cleverness, she wrote one line.Come with haste. Something dreadful has happened.
That should do it, and she’d not lied. Elizabeth’s sickness was dreadful. Hopefully, by the time Father got here, Elizabeth would be well, and Madelaine, Elizabeth and Helen could explain to her father how Grey was truly an honorable man. Then Grey could court her, and she could fall guiltlessly in love.
Avoiding Grey was much harder than Madelaine imagined. She was partly thrilled and dismayed that he went to such efforts to see her. Wherever she seemed to go, she would catch glimpses of him, but she managed to keep her distance. The hardest times were when she was in Elizabeth’s room, and he would come to care for his sister. Madelaine always fled, offering some stuttering, flimsy excuse. Yesterday’s had been especially bad. Grey had raised one eyebrow, and she’d known he didn’t believe her. She’d entertained the idea of telling him the truth. Yet the thought of sitting before him and explaining that she was staying away because when she was near him she didn’t trust herself not to go against her father’s wishes, made her stomach pitch precariously.
With that in mind, she rose early. She had to visit Elizabeth before Grey even considered coming. If he kept to the same routine of the last two weeks, he would tend to his equerry duties first and then come to his sister’s room around noon. When Madelaine finished translating a letter for the queen, she begged to be excused to go check on Elizabeth. The queen was surprisingly kind and gracious. No doubt the kindness had everything to do with her good feelings toward Elizabeth and Grey and nothing to do with Madelaine personally, but whatever the reason, she welcomed the reprieve from the scolding and glares.
When she reached Elizabeth’s apartment around ten, she took several deep breaths before entering. All her composure left her and she squealed as she ran into the room.
