he did so that would mean postponing the confrontation, for he could hardly force his way into the count’s home to call him a cheat—nor could he follow him to the country. He could only hope that Madeline would be safe until the opportunity arose to force a quarrel on her husband.
* * *
Madeline saw Hallam as she entered the ballroom that night and her heart caught. She longed to go to him, but knew she must keep a distance between them. It would be foolish to arouse her husband’s suspicions for nothing. Lethbridge was in a better frame of mind than of late. Nothing more had been said of the marquis, nor had her husband mentioned anything he wished her to do for him, and she began to think she had imagined that he had some idea of giving her to the marquis.
‘I shall go to the card room,’ Lethbridge said. ‘Sit with your friends, Madeline. If you are asked to dance this evening, you may do so.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ she replied, glancing at his profile. A little nerve flicked at his temple, but he gave no other sign of emotion. Yet she guessed that there was conflict at work within him, though she could not think what it might be.
Seeing Lady Jersey sitting with some other ladies that she knew well, Madeline went towards them and sat on an available chair. She was soon drawn into a discussion about a young lady who was said to be the latest rage and watched Miss Catherine Anderson being courted by her admirers with amusement.
‘Will you dance with me, Lady Lethbridge?’
Madeline glanced up as Hallam spoke. She knew that she should refuse him, but seeing Lord Rochdale approaching her at that moment, she stood up with Hallam before he could reach her.
‘You ought not to have asked me,’ she said as he placed a hand at her back and drew her into a waltz. ‘It is useless, Hal. I cannot leave him...’
‘But he lies to you, he cheated you of your father’s notes.’
‘No, I have them back. My family is safe now.’
‘Then come away with me now—I beg you to leave him now, tonight.’
‘I am afraid of what he might do. Forget me, Hal. I am not worthy of you. I beg you to forget you ever knew me.’
‘Madeline...’ Hal stared at her in dismay. ‘Have you taken leave of your wits? Or is it that you care for him?’
Madeline met his eyes, tears hovering on her lashes as she said, ‘You must believe what you will of me.’ Breaking from him, she walked swiftly away from him and left the ballroom.
She went up to the bedroom given over for the use of female guests that evening and shut herself away in the closet provided for relieving oneself. There, she allowed her tears to fall until she could recover her composure. Returning to the bedroom, she washed her face in cool water from a porcelain jug and tidied herself before going downstairs. No trace of the tears remained, though she looked pale.
It was as she reached the bottom of the stairs that she saw the Marquis of Rochdale. He was about to enter the ballroom, but stopped and waited for her.
‘May I escort you back to the dancing, Madeline?’
‘I did not give you permission to use my first name, sir.’
‘Did you not?’ His lips curled in an unpleasant sneer. ‘You think to flirt with me and then spurn me, madam, but you will learn to know better. It will give me great pleasure to teach you a lesson.’
‘Sir, I think you forget yourself. I shall speak to my husband of your discourtesy.’
He laughed low in his throat. ‘Say what you will, Lethbridge may not be listening,’ he said. ‘A reckoning is coming, Madeline. Next week I dine with you—and then you will discover I am a man of my word.’
Madeline lifted her head proudly and walked past him into the ballroom. Her heart was thumping madly, but she gave no sign of it as she looked about her.
She was afraid of the marquis, afraid of what her husband had done—but she’d sent Hallam away. Oh, how she longed for a shoulder to weep on and a strong arm to hold her!
But it was best this way. She could not bear that Hal should know the depths to which she had fallen. It was best that she never saw him again, for she was soiled and shamed, no fit companion for any decent man.
* * *
Lethbridge rose from the card table after the Marquis of Rochdale had departed, taking his winnings with him. He had lost ten thousand pounds in one sitting to that detestable man and was now ruined. He could not pay without selling his country estate, and if he did that he would lose everything he cared for. His estate had been in his family for four hundred years and it was the source of his income—and his pride. Once it had gone, he would be dunned by all those he owed money to—and then...there would be nothing left.
There was only one thing that stood between him and complete ruin—his wife. Unless he forced Madeline’s father to sell his estate and pay his debts, in as far as he could...but even that would not suffice for he’d given Madeline more than twenty thousand and she’d destroyed them.
But there was one way that he could buy time. The marquis had made it plain to him what he wanted. If he gave him Madeline, he would return the notes and Lethbridge could carry on as before. He would take good care not to sit down with Rochdale again and somehow he would come about. He’d done it before and he could do it again—though never had he been as deep in debt as now.
He’d attempted to cheat this evening, but somehow Rochdale had known which cards he’d marked and turned them against him. He’d actually played into the devil’s hands. How could he have known which cards to look for? But of course, he must have learned to feel the corners for that slight unevenness caused by a pinprick. Most men never knew it was there—but Rochdale did.
Rochdale had made it clear that he would demand payment of Lethbridge’s debts, and he would use the cards to expose the count as a cheat—unless he gave him Madeline.
He must reply by noon the next day or he would lose all he had. He was caught fast in a trap—unless....
A plan had begun to form in Lethbridge’s head, a plan so wicked and devious that it made him shake with excitement. He would agree to the marquis’s demands—he should have his time in bed with Madeline when he came to dine, but then...
No court in the land would convict him of murder for shooting a man he discovered raping his wife.
He smiled unpleasantly. He would allow Rochdale to come to the house and to have Madeline once the notes were returned to him, but then he would burst in on them and shoot him as he lay in her bed.
Once, he could not have borne another man to touch her, but she was cruel and proud. Why should he care what happened to her? He could use her to destroy his enemy and then he could divorce her because she was spoiled goods and had shamed him.
It was such a neat plan that his good humour was restored. And since he was determined to be rid of his wife, why not foreclose on her father and make him pay with the sale of his estate?
* * *
Hallam left the ball feeling angry with Madeline. How could she stay with her husband when she knew what a worthless wretch he was?
Hallam had no idea of the turn events had taken that evening, but what Mainwaring had told him was enough to convince him that the count was close to desperate. His mind was made up—he must engage him in a game of cards as soon as possible for Lethbridge would certainly try to cheat and then he could expose him.
Hallam was torn by his doubts. He hardly knew Maddie these days. As a young girl he’d found her sweet and innocent, incapable of hurting anyone, but then she’d sent him away and married Count Lethbridge. He’d seen her flirting with the marquis and though she’d claimed Lethbridge might ruin her family if she left him, once she had destroyed her father’s notes, she said it was best if Hal forgot her. He was baffled. Was she the girl he loved or someone very different?
Walking