Madeline followed in Rosalie’s wake as the duchess swept down the dimly lit hall towards the drawing room. Both ladies were dressed for dinner, Rosalie in a very fine gown of sapphire, trimmed in gold thread, and cut to accommodate her growing size. Madeline wore Rosalie’s emerald gown with the square cut bodice that was cut a little too low for Madeline’s comfort.
“Are you sure about this?” Madeline murmured.
“Absolutely,” Rosalie replied, smiling at a passing maid. “No one is so capable as Burke at assisting with an intrigue.”
“I’d hate to bother him with my troubles.”
“Nonsense,” she said with a laugh. “He’ll be thrilled. The man lives to meddle in other people’s lives.”
Madeline didn’t doubt it. Horatio Burke was an enigma. He fit into any room, and he knew everyone. She shuddered to imagine the secrets lurking behind those stormy grey eyes.
A pair of footmen opened the doors to the drawing room, letting the ladies enter. It was a beautiful room, comfortable and well proportioned, with a blaze of a fire and several candelabras offering warmth against the winter chill.
“Well, this is a surprise,” called Mr. Burke. “You’re never down this early.” He was on his feet, a wide smile on his face, eyes only for the duchess. Heavens, but he was handsome. Tall and broad shouldered, with a full head of inky black hair and those striking grey eyes. They narrowed under dark brows as his gaze fell to Madeline. “Ahh, so it is true. Madeline, how wonderful to see you again.”
“Mr. Burke, good evening,” she replied, dipping into a slight curtsy.
Mr. Burke pursed his lips in annoyance. “How many times must I ask you to drop the formalities and call me Burke?”
She couldn’t help her smile. It had always been his way to be overly informal with everyone. “At least once more, Mr. Burke.”
“The house is positively abuzz with gossip,” he said, coming around the sofa with a hand outstretched towards Rosalie. “The footmen were telling such a tale. Lady Madeline Blaire arrived from London unexpected and unchaperoned. I had to see it to believe.”
Madeline stilled. Who was gossiping about her? Mr. Warren? Could the staff really be trusted to keep the gossip within the boundaries of the estate? Oh, this was a disaster. The gossip would surely spread back to London like a wildfire. How many days did she have before her father descended in a red rage, determined to drag her off.
Rosalie took Mr. Burke’s hand, and he led her to a chair. “Don’t tease her, Burke. It’s been a trying time.”
Madeline sat on the sofa opposite them.
Mr. Burke glanced from Madeline back to the duchess, dragging a hand through his hair in that practiced way of confident men. “Well, I can tell by your faces that this is serious. So, tell me, are we getting Madeline into trouble or out of it? Either way, you have my help.”
Rosalie flashed him a warm smile. “We knew we could count on you.” She turned to Madeline. “Why don’t you fill him in.”
Madeline swallowed her groan of frustration. How many times was she going to have to recount this drama? “I suppose the long and short of it is that I need to get married as soon as possible.”
Mr. Burke let out a soft chortle. “Well, that’s hardly news. What unmarried lady doesn’t seek a proper match?” He glanced over at Rosalie and winked. “Apart from you, of course, Your Grace.”
“You’re not listening,” Rosalie replied. “She needs to be married as soon as possible, Burke. We cannot delay.”
He sat forward, glancing at Madeline again. “Legally married?”
Rosalie huffed. “Of course, legally, Burke.”
He was quiet for a moment, his brows lowering. Suddenly, they shot up. “Ohh, so are you…” He let his gaze point to Rosalie’s hands folded demurely over her ample middle.
Madeline gasped. “I am not with child, sir,” she cried, heat blooming in her cheeks.
“There are other reasons for marriage, Burke,” Rosalie added.
“Sorry,” he replied, raising his hands. “I’m just trying to puzzle it out.” He glanced back at Madeline. “So, you need to marry. Does it need to last?”
Madeline blinked. “What can you mean, sir?”
“I’m assuming, with such a short time frame, and no impending happy announcement, that there is some other more urgent business attached to the being married,” he explained. “Why must it happen now? What will you escape or stand to gain?”
She glanced at Rosalie and the duchess gave her a little nod.
“An inheritance,” she replied. “My late aunt left me her fortune. To claim it, I must be married before the end of my twentieth year. So, I need a husband,” she finished with a shrug. “Now.”
Gracious, when she said it aloud, it made her feel no better than any of the dozens of men who sniffed about her in search of a dowry. But this money was hers by right, and that made all the difference. Aunt Maude wanted her to have it. The men of the ton were constantly chasing after money that wasn’t theirs. How ludicrous that she lived in a society where a law could force her to marry in order to claim a fortune legally left to her!
“Damn,” he muttered. “That’s…well, if you expect the banns to be read you only have…” He did the mental math, his frown deepening.
“Today,” Rosalie replied for him. “The banns would need to be read today to make it by the end of the year.”
Madeline groaned again, pressing the palm of her hand to her forehead. “Oh, this is impossible, isn’t it? I’m mad, aren’t I? There’s no way we can find a man in less than three weeks. Not a man of mind sound enough to ever consider me!”
Rosalie and Mr. Burke were both quiet, which was not a comfort.
She dropped her hand to her lap, glancing from one to the other. “Please say something.”
Mr. Burke cleared his throat. “I think this calls for a drink,” he announced, getting to his feet.
The ladies watched as he sauntered over to the sideboard. He snatched up a carafe and three glasses. He handed the first off to Madeline, pouring a measure of Madeira into her glass. Not waiting for the others, she brought the glass to her lips and took a deep sip. The fruity notes were teased with spiciness.
Before he sat, Mr. Burke topped off her glass with a wink. He shifted back in his chair, crossing his ankle over his opposite knee. “So, you intend to get yourself married in under three weeks, and you’ve come to me to seek out a list of eligible suitors? You want a man’s opinion on which bachelors of the ton might consider such a rushed affair?”
“Precisely,” the duchess replied. “You’re far more connected than James. He can’t be trusted to know who the truly intolerable candidates might be. If this were a land deal, then yes. But this is about Madeline’s future happiness, her safety and comfort. We need you, Burke.”
He frowned, taking a sip of his wine. “But the timing doesn’t quite work out. Not with the banns—”
“Banns are not necessarily needed,” Rosalie cut in, clearly trying to bolster Madeline’s hope. “A special license could be obtained. And if he’s not a peer, it’s not necessary at all. They could marry on the morrow without batting an eye.”
Mr. Burke huffed into his glass. “I hardly imagine Viscount Raleigh will be pleased to see his only daughter marry outside the peerage.”
“My father can’t know about this,” Madeline replied quickly. “He—he would not—” She fell silent, not quite ready to admit to the cruel truth that her own father was in competition with her. He wanted to see her fail. The pain of that truth was still too raw. “I am here on my own,” she murmured. “I’m…I do this on my own. I will do what I must to earn this chance at freedom. If you know of a man, I ask you to tell me. Please, Burke—”
The man was utterly solemn. It was such a strange look on him. He usually overflowed with charm and wit and ready smiles. His eyes looked shadowed as he glanced from Rosalie back to Madeline.
“She would need just the right kind of suitor,” Rosalie explained. “One who can understand her predicament…”
He narrowed his eyes at Madeline. “Well, do you have anyone in mind? Anyone you fancy? If we can manage a love match, that would be—”
“No,” she said quickly. “I’m not—that is to say—I’m not the type to go about fancying men. I’ve hardly spoken to a man outside my family, and never without a chaperone present,” she added.
“Hmm, that complicates things,” he admitted. “This would be easier if you had someone in mind.”
She swallowed down her nerves. It was now or never. “My cousin Patrick had a thought.”
They leaned forward with interest.
“Tell us,” said Rosalie.
Biting her lip, Madeline dove in. “Well…he suggested that I ask…Captain Renley.”
Rosalie’s dark eyes widened while Mr. Burke’s grey ones narrowed.
“Renley as in Tom?” he asked. “Our Captain Renley?”
Madeline shrugged, already sensing the direction this was going. If she was perfectly honest with herself, she’d been more curious to test the theory than she had been seriously considering him as a suitor. “Yes, well, he’s always been kind to me. And as a naval officer, he would understand the nature of a business arrangement such as this. We could help each other. My dowry could pay for a commission and—”
“No,” came Rosalie’s sharp denial.
At the same time, Mr. Burke huffed and said, “It’s completely out of the question.”
Madeline sank into silence. After a moment she murmured, “What is so ridiculous about the notion?” She dared to glance at Rosalie.
But Mr. Burke spoke first. “Tom is not an option, Madeline. Besides, he’s not even here. How are you to marry a man without him being present for the saying of the vows?”
She glanced sharply at Rosalie. “He’s not? But I thought—”
“His ship was waylaid,” Rosalie explained, her voice soft. “He was meant to be here already, but now it may be another three months. We’re not sure. His correspondence has been so irregular.”
Madeline’s heart broke for her friend. It hadn’t escaped her notice the tone of longing in Rosalie’s last letter as she talked of his return. At the same time, Madeline felt what little hope she had kindled inside her snuff out. “He isn’t here,” she repeated.
“And even if he were,” Mr. Burke went on, “He will never marry…not even to help out a friend as lovely as you,” he added a little more gently.
Madeline sniffed, fighting the sharp sting in her eyes. This was ridiculous. It wasn’t as if she wanted to marry the captain. She didn’t want to marry anyone. He was perhaps just the most appealing of her limited options.
“But I do think Madeline’s judgement is sound,” Rosalie offered, glancing over at Mr. Burke. “Someone like Tom would be ideal. Kind and courteous, willing to accept whatever terms she sets.”
He raised that dark brow again. “And what are Madeline’s terms?”
Rosalie turned to her expectantly.
Madeline glanced between them and stifled another groan. How was she supposed to talk to a man like Mr. Burke about such a topic? “Well, the money from my dowry would go to my husband, obviously,” she said. “But the money from Aunt Maude would remain in my control. He would have to agree never to seek ownership of the Leary Fortune. A woman has served as caretaker for four generations. I mean to be my own mistress.”
Burke beamed at her. “Well, look at you.”
“And I…I don’t…” She fell into silence, her blush burning in her cheeks. She couldn’t possibly say these words aloud.
“She doesn’t want to offer marital services,” Rosalie supplied.
Mr. Burke’s lips parted slightly as his stormy eyes flashed, his proud smile falling. “What never? You expect to marry a man and never fulfill your marital duties? Not even on the wedding night?”
“Burke,” Rosalie warned, drawing his attention with a shake of her head.
But he slapped his glass down. His eyes narrowed on Madeline as if he were trying to see down to her deeper truths. “What do you know of sex, Madeline?”
Madeline gasped, immediately thinking of her dream, as Rosalie rounded on him. “Burke, that’s enough.”
“It’s hardly enough,” he countered. “She’s asking me for help, and I can’t give it without holding all the facts. She says she must marry within a fortnight. Fine, I know plenty of eligible bachelors,” he said with a wave of his hand. “She says she will offer up her dowry but retain control of her own fortune. Still manageable. For what peer would fail to understand that marriage can be a sound business arrangement? It’s unusual, but not unheard of, surely.” He leaned forward in his chair. “But now she says she will never fulfill her martial duty, which implies to me either that she is deformed in that area—”
“Burke,” Rosalie snapped.
“I am not deformed, sir,” Madeline cried, not quite believing the turn of this conversation.
“Then I am left to believe that these are the words of a virgin girl, rooted in fear,” he went on. “So, I will ask you again: what do you know of the thing you so roundly shun? Have you ever even been kissed?”
“I…” She blushed furiously, unable to make her mouth make words. What on earth did Warren say to him? “I don’t…”
He gave her a knowing look. “You don’t know anything do you?” When she merely spluttered some more, he nodded. “Yes, I thought as much. Madeline, as a friend, I cannot in good conscience let you make this decision without having all the facts. Now, is it my place to educate you on the matter? Of course not—”
“Too true,” Rosalie growled, clutching tight to her glass of wine.
“So, the duchess must do it,” he went on, gesturing at her with a nod.
Madeline’s eyes went wide as Rosalie spun on him. “I will do no such thing! Her mother would murder me if she knew we were even having this conversation.”
Burke grunted and got to his feet. “Utter madness.” He stomped off to pace before the fire. “How is it possible that this is the way of things? A bright young woman, forced to make a decision that will affect the rest of her life, and she has no idea what she’s even deciding. What is so wrong about discussing sex with young ladies? Why must the truth be veiled from them? I’ve never understood it.”
The duchess sighed. “Burke, it is not—”
He rounded on her. “If you’re about to say ‘proper,’ I swear to god, I will eat my own hat.”
“Well, it’s not,” Rosalie charged.
“How can you say such a thing? You, who sits before us now, round with child. Another babe sleeps upstairs, the product of the passion you share with your husband. Will you really help Madeline bind herself in a sexless marriage before she’s ever even had a chance to know that’s truly what she wants?”
Madeline’s eye darted between the two of them. How had their conversation taken such a scandalous turn? She’d never seen a man and woman discuss sex so casually.
Scratch that. She’d never witnessed a men and woman discuss sex. Period.
But something in Burke’s anger was soothing Madeline’s anxiety. He was angry on her behalf. He cared. For the first time since she found out about the inheritance, she didn’t feel so alone.
Meanwhile, Rosalie crossed her arms. “What exactly are you suggesting? You expect me to pull out a sketch book? Perhaps you mean for me to demonstrate—”
“Lord, no,” he said with a laugh. But then he stilled. “I mean…well…maybe.” He grinned. “Not the demonstrations, surely, but you’re a fine artist. And you can certainly paint a vivid picture with words. Enough to explain the mechanics to the girl.”
“Burke, you are mad,” Rosalie declared. “This conversation has gone so far off the beaten path. We are lost in the dark woods, and I must beg that we return to the light.”
But Mr. Burke seemed to like wandering in the dark, for the next words out of his mouth were, “You know, if I were you Madeline, knowing my financial future was all but secured the moment I said, ‘I do,’ I wouldn’t seek out a kind, sexless man to hitch to my plow.”
She found herself leaning forward. “What would you do?”
“Don’t encourage this, Madeline,” Rosalie warned.
But Mr. Burke leaned against the mantle and flashed her a devious smile. “I’d throw caution to the wind and have a torrid affair—”
“Burke, for the love of god,” Rosalie cried, throwing up her hands in frustration.
Lost in the storm of his eyes, Madeline whispered, “An affair?”
“Yes, with multiple men,” he replied, grinning wider now. “I’d let them ravage me and teach me the secrets of pleasure. And whichever ravaged me best, that’s the one I’d marry.”
“Burke, you are impossible,” Rosalie cried. “We came to you for honest help—”
“And how am I not helping? As I see it, I’m the only one helping. You want to keep her in the dark. Honestly, I’m surprised at you, Rosalie.”
“I am just trying to forge a path that will keep her safe, while giving her what she wants. And thrusting her into the world with ideas of torrid affairs is a terrible idea—”
“It’s a brilliant idea! Set for life with a fortune all her own and a husband giving her boundless pleasure?” He huffed another laugh. “She would be a goddess among mere mortals, her own Aphrodite.”
Madeline’s heart was racing out of her chest. This was madness. This wasn’t done. She couldn’t even comprehend what he was saying.
“Madeline, you will leave this to me,” Rosalie directed. “I will find you someone suitable if it’s the last thing I do. I’ll ask James—”
“Oh yes, ask James,” Mr. Burke snorted. “He’s sure to have just the idea for a boring, sexless man willing to be Madeline’s paper husband.”
The duchess and Mr. Burke exchanged a few more barbed retorts as Madeline’s mind spun wildly. Had she been looking at this all wrong? Ought she to consider a man who could be more to her than a business partner? A man of passion and power. Someone to help her run free. Someone to unleash her…
Someone to make you feel the way Warren does.
Bees buzzed in her chest at the thought. She couldn’t possibly. Lady Madeline Blaire was quiet and controlled. She was patient, reserved. She was—
NO!
The word screamed through her. Those were all the traits her family wanted her to have. Demure. Sweet. Submissive. A proper lady always dresses her best—face clean, hair curled, cheeks the perfect shade of blush. A proper lady keeps her opinions to herself. A proper lady is witty and obliging. A proper lady does not question her role.
But Madeline was tired of doing the proper thing. Her mind filled with images of Mr. Warren pressing himself against her, his lips on her lips, making her ache with some unspoken need. But she had to push him away. He was a stranger. A laborer. Completely off limits.
But still, she must marry. What might it be like to pick some strong and passionate, yet still kind…someone clever and entertaining…someone handsome beyond words…
She rose to her feet, eyes only for the black-haired devil that spoke with such confidence about pleasure. He was still bickering with the duchess, both heated, hands gesturing.
Madeline stepped forward. “Mr. Burke…”
He raised a dark brow. “What?”
Squaring her shoulders, she held his stormy gaze. “Marry me.”
