Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I cannot love her. I cannot love her. I cannot love her. I cannot love her. I do not love her! Percy repeated the mantra over and over again as if repeatedly saying it to himself would make it so.

Joining Madeleine at the opera had been a bad choice. Seeing her beauty, feeling the warmth of her skin against his… He had tried to remain at a distance, but it had been impossible. If that was not enough to be ashamed of, his jealousy was. The rage and possessiveness that had overtaken him when she smiled at another man had been so blinding that he had to leave. Which, of course, had only served to fuel his desire for her.

Percy was furious with himself for allowing his feelings to have grown to such an extent. If it got any worse, he would have no choice but to flee England to put space between them.

“What have you done to me, woman?!” Percy groaned in frustration.

He refused to turn around and explain himself to her. He had seen the look in her eyes when he had left abruptly. He had hurt her feelings, but had he spoken with her in that moment, he would have punched Hamish MacElroy in the face. MacElroy was a good man. In truth, he was a much better man for Madeleine than any other that Percy had ever met. The acknowledgement of it caused Percy’s heart to ache in his chest.

I should tell Madeleine that our arrangement is over. She deserves the chance to find happiness with someone, whether she realizes it or not. She may not wish to wed anyone, but her heart has so much love and passion to give it would be a sin to leave it untapped. A woman of her beauty, intellect, and vibrancy should be allowed to burn brightly. She should have her passions enflamed and sated in equal measure.

Percy’s body tightened at the thought of her beneath him, and his muscles seized in rage at the thought of her beneath any other man.

“God in heaven have mercy!” Percy stormed.

“Percival Hardy, you tell me what that was, and you tell me right now.”

Percy felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck and a longing pull in his groin as he heard Madeleine’s voice. Even angry, it was as alluring as a siren’s song, and his body immediately tried to move closer toward it.

“Lady Madeleine,” he stated, forcing his tone to be indifferent, “whatever are you doing out here unaccompanied? I shall have to speak with your other suitor about his poor attempt at chivalry.”

Madeleine’s eyes were bright with contempt, and even so, he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her. He gripped his reins tighter, forcing himself not to give in to it.

“Do not lay blame on another for your poor behavior,” Madeleine shot back.

“Do not speak to me so frankly in front of others,” he retorted.

Though as he rose his eyes to find a person to make his point, he found the street empty of nobles. It seemed everyone else that mattered was still inside.

“You think I would do such a thing?” she asked, and in that moment, he despised her ability to be more rational than him.

“You risk a great deal coming out here,” he retorted. “Just because you snuck away so successfully, it does not mean sneaking back in will go the same. Go. Now.”

Madeleine only glowered at him then shifted her feet into a more rooted stance. Her bullish response only made him want her more, and he gritted his teeth in annoyance.

“Come on, then,” he whispered, capturing her arm.

He sent up a prayer of thanks that she did not argue with him as he pulled her into an alley where he knew a back door to the opera house lay. He would send her through there when they were finished speaking and hopefully no one would be the wiser.

“You have been estranged,” Madeleine stated as soon as they turned the corner.

“I have been appropriate,” he countered then narrowed his eyes at her. “Perhaps you should try it.”

Her brows flew up.

“How was your touch on my neck and hand appropriate? How is demanding a kiss from me to seal our deal appropriate, My Lord? Pray, tell me.”

His jaw ticked as her fiery response forced the flames in his veins to grow hotter. He loved her like this, as much as he wanted to deny it. He loved the challenge, loved the way she seemed to be able to put him in his place.

“I am not here to argue with you about propriety,” Madeleine went on before he could form a response. “I am here to demand answers. We have a ruse to put on, and you only acting like a suitor in private does neither of us any favors. So, I ask you, why perform these acts of intimacy when we are alone, but then treat me as a stranger in public where such acts matter?”

How was he to answer?

“You read too much into things,” he said dismissively, taking a step back.

“Our ruse is in no danger of being found out.” He was going to stop there, but a hint of the truth came out as he added, “However, I do wonder if it is giving you the effect you hoped for.”

Madeleine narrowed her eyes at him as she put her fists to her hips.

“And pray tell, what does that mean?” she asked.

“I am merely pointing out that your desired effect of having the freedom of a spinster after this is done is becoming unlikely. The attention shown to you is not from green young boys nor is it from stout old men looking for a halfway decent wife to put forth an heir. The company you are surrounded by seems to be infatuated with you, and even after I “break your heart,” I doubt that any will give you the grace you think they will to recover. They want you too much.”

Madeleine stepped back from him, as if his words were a strike across her face.

“That- that is not true,” she replied.

Percy detected a hint of desperation in her voice, and it only made her want her more.

“Christ, Madeleine, stop pretending as if you are blind!” he growled in a harsh whisper.

“I am not!” She shot back, a sneer forming on her beautiful lips.

“I know how they look at you,” he pressed on, his anger and lust mixing into a dangerous culmination. “I see how you take their breath away, how you stimulate their person as well as their mind.”

“Stop it!” she hissed, her cheeks flooding with that blush he now loved.

“You stop it,” he growled, snatching her up by the shoulders, unable to help himself. “Stop thinking of yourself as this ugly duckling and accept who you are. This plan is not going to work, Madeleine; you are too good of a woman for it.”

Madeleine’s eyes widened as she looked up at him.

“I…” she breathed, shaking her head.

“Damn you, woman,” he growled, unable to hold back any longer.

He hauled her into him, wrapping his arms about her sweet curves the way he had wanted to all night, and kissed her. Her lips still tasted of the sweet red wine she’d had earlier, and the whisper of his name only made her more delectable.

His lips meshed into hers fully, possessively, as if he was trying to prove something to himself. He tore away from the kiss as quickly as he had delivered, panting as his entire body trembled with need. It had been a mistake, a grave one.

“Percy, do not go,” Madeleine insisted as he turned away from her. “We need to speak. Not just about us, but there’s something I must ask you?—”

“It will need to wait,” he snarled, whirling back on her. Voices from outside the alley became his saving grace, and he grabbed Madeleine’s arm once more as he walked her to the side door.

“Get back inside,” he commanded, all but shoving her through the door, “before someone sees you. We will discuss the future of our ruse later.”

Madeleine’s pleading look broke Percy’s heart as he shut the door in her face, and he balled his fists in frustration as he stomped out of the alley and into the street alone. Swinging up into his saddle, horse and rider moved through the night together, allowing the darkened silence to soothe their souls. I cannot love her, his heart whispered into the night. I cannot…

“What do you know about Francis?” Several days had passed before Madeleine had summoned the courage to ask Cecil about Percy’s deceased betrothed. She had needed some time first to process Percy’s reaction to her at the opera house. It had left her feeling confused, worried, and…to her shame, highly aroused by not just his kiss but the way he had spoken of her. Such compliments never hit her such a way before, but now, his words were resting heavy on her soul.

You are a good woman, Madeleine; how can you not see that?

Cecil’s head shot up in surprise, and he examined her face for a moment as if weighing whether to answer her or not. They were sitting in the library, each buried in their own book, or at least she was pretending to be when she lifted her head and blurted out the question.

“What makes you ask about Francis?”

His question of her question immediately put her on alert, and she snapped her book shut.

“I heard her name mentioned in conjunction with Percy. It is said that she was his betrothed, that he loved her very much, and then she died terribly in a carriage accident,” she explained. “I was told that she was quite ill and should not have been attempting to visit the Duke’s estate.”

She paused, letting the news sink even deeper.

“I must confess that I am confused about it all,” she said in a much softer voice. “He has not mentioned it to me once.”

Cecil sighed and set his book down. “Miss Francis Rosiland Belmont was indeed Percy’s betrothed, but he did not love her, not romantically. She was his father’s choice. When Percy’s father died, he felt that he needed to honor his father’s wishes and wed the lady of the elder duke’s choice. When he proposed, they both understood it for what it was, and they became friends. That is all that was between them.”

“A woman who spends her last moments of life attempting to reach her betrothed’s side sounds like love to me, brother,” Madeleine replied doubtfully.

“Percy does not know why she was attempting to reach his estate. She could have simply sent for him via messenger if she needed to speak with him. She was too ill to walk by herself at that time and should not have been out on the roads. Unfortunately, we will never know the truth. Her carriage driver died along with her.”

Madeleine shook her head doubtfully. “It does not feel as simple as a friendship to me. It is said that after her death, the Duke fled the country.”

“If Francis loved Percy, it was one sided. Believe me on that, sister. Even if you believe nothing else, please know that Percy had nothing to do with her death. He left England because of the weight of guilt and confusion surrounding Francis’s death and the grief he felt over the loss of his father. You must remember how much he had suffered losing his parents as he did.”

“I know,” Madeleine said, suddenly guilty for asking, but she had gone this far, so she thought that she might as well carry through to the end of her inquiry. “I have heard rumors of a curse. People are saying that he is cursed because of these deaths or that his curse caused them.”

Anger flared in Cecil’s eyes at the thought of people speaking ill of his friend in such a manner. “I do not believe that Percy is cursed, but he does believe it. He believes that anyone he loves will die.”

Understanding dawned in Madeleine’s mind. “Is that why you have not been happy about our courtship?”

Percy nodded. “I do not believe in the curse, but you are my sister, and I cannot take any chances with your safety. I love you too much to risk your life.”

Madeleine nodded in understanding. She did not believe in the curse either, but she could understand her brother’s reservations. It meant a lot to her that he loved her so much and had been trying to protect her the best that he could. “Thank you for your honesty.”

Cecil nodded. “It is a relief to finally be able to speak with you on the matter. It has been a strain to keep it all to myself.”

Madeleine nodded. “I understand your desire to protect me, but it sounds as though we need to be offering him our support, not causing him further conflict.”

Cecil met her eyes with pride and respect. “You are wise beyond your years, my dear sister. You put me to shame.”

Madeleine shook her head. “I have not always been kind to him as perhaps I should have been.”

“Then, from this moment forward, let us both endeavor to be better friends,” Cecil proposed with feeling.

“Agreed.” Madeleine nodded. She rose from her chair. “I will go and write him a letter inviting him to accompany us to the ball at the Chesterfield’s.”

“That sounds like a splendid idea,” Cecil agreed with a smile.

Madeleine retired to her room to write her letter in private. She had realized while speaking with Cecil that her ruse may have caused Percy further difficulty in his life, and she wished to free him from their agreement. She prayed that their arrangement had not already caused him too much pain.

When Percy received Madeleine’s letter, he was surprised at how it made him feel. She had released him from their arrangement. He knew that they could not keep up the pretense forever. Eventually, she would have to find a suitable match whether she wished to do so or not. It cannot be Herbert Mowbray. She deserves better than that lack luster sod. Determined to help her as best he could, Percy made himself ready for the Chesterfield’s ball.

Upon arriving at the ball, he immediately went in search of Madeleine. He found her dancing with Hamish MacElroy. Jealousy flared within his heart, but he tamped it down with ferocity. He was here for her highest good, not his own. MacElroy was exactly the sort of man that she should be with, and Percy was determined to tell her as much. She would not wish to hear what he had to say, but he needed to make her listen. He needed to make her see reason.

MacElroy spotted Percy standing on the side of the dance floor and nodded in respect. Once the dance was ended, he brought Madeleine to Percy’s side, bowed, kissed her hand, then left her in Percy’s care. “Your Grace,” Madeleine greeted with less hostility than usual.

“Lady Madeleine, I received your letter.”

“May we speak?” Madeleine asked, her eyes insistent.

“We may,” he nodded his consent. “Outside?”

Madeleine nodded in agreement. “That would be best, I think.”

Percy led the way out onto the veranda. The Chesterfields had outdone themselves in preparation for the ball and had decorated the gardens in a most enchanting display of candles and statuary. Excited chatter and pleasant laughter filtered up from the garden reminding them that they were not truly alone. He turned to her, ready to inform her of his decision, but the words caught in his throat as he viewed her visage in the candlelight. The gold and silver accents of her dress and hair shimmered all about her in the most angelic aura.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered.

“Do not mock me.” She frowned, turning away from him to look out over the gardens.

Percy took her hand and turned her back to meet his face. “You still do not take what I say as truth,” he murmured. “I had hoped our talk outside of the opera house would have changed that.”

His fingers at her wrist, he was able to feel her pulse quicken.

“I owe you an apology for that night,” he pressed on. “I handled myself poorly. But that does not take away from the fact that you are indeed beautiful, Madeleine.”

Madeleine gave him a reproachful look. “You mock me, frequently. So how am I to believe that is the truth?”

Percy frowned in confusion. This conversation was not going as he had planned. “When?” he demanded to know.

Madeleine took her hand away from his, her eyes flaring their stubborn light. “Every time that you call me Monkey, you mock me for my childhood form.”

Percy’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “I do not call you Monkey to mock you. It has nothing to do with your childhood form, as you say.” Percy was truly lost in the conversation.

“You told me yourself that Monkey in Cant means five hundred pounds. A large number of pounds…” She waved her hands at her body for emphasis.

“You cannot call me that and beautiful at the same time, Your Grace.”

Percy’s brows shot up in shock. He had never once meant it in the way that she had perceived it. “That is not what I meant,” he informed her. “It was meant as a compliment.”

“How is it a compliment?’ she demanded to know, challenging him with fire and pain in her eyes. “You teasing me about my weight has affected me my entire life. There is nothing complimentary in that.”

“I was not teasing you about your weight, Madeleine. I have always found you to be adorable and a person of great worth.” He put emphasis on this last part, hoping that she would understand the word association. The confused look on her face told him that she was not yet able to grasp his true meaning. “The name Monkey was meant to represent an adorable person of great worth. That was how I viewed you then. It is how I view you now.”

The stunned look on Madeleine’s face was more than Percy could handle. He lifted his hand to gently cup her cheek. “I have always believed you to be a beautiful woman beyond compare.” He wanted desperately to kiss her, but that was not what he had come to the ball to do. He had come to help her secure a future for herself that was sustainable. He stepped back, letting his hand fall to rest at his side. “And your future husband will feel the same.”

“My future husband?” Madeleine looked up at him, her eyes still dazed from his earlier revelation.

“I have been thinking of our arrangement since the night of the opera. I was not lying then. These men will not give up on you. You must marry, and you must marry the safest choice. It is the only way this will end. I will help you choose if you like. I only wish that you not end up with a monster.”

Madeleine shook her head in refusal. “I have no desire to wed. You know this. We came to our arrangement so that I could avoid just such a fate.”

Percy shook his head. “We started this arrangement to give you time so that your father would not wed you to Herbert Mowbray. When our ruse has come to its close and I have not proposed to you, your father will accept Mowbray’s proposal on your behalf. We cannot maintain this ruse forever. What did you believe was going to happen when you released me from our agreement in the letter that you sent me? Did you think that your father would just allow you to remain unwed?”

Madeleine’s eyes filled with angry tears. “I do not wish to wed, and you know that.”

The pain in her voice was evident, and Percy had to turn his head from the intensity of it.

“It is unavoidable now, Madeleine,” he replied hoarsely. “I am truly sorry that our plan did not work, but I realized that it would not the night of the opera. I thought you had too, seeing how you released me from it.”

“That is not why,” she hissed. “I only wished to release you as I realized that our association might have been causing you further pain where Francis’ death was concerned.”

The mention of Francis from Madeleine’s lips was a shock to Percy’s system. He stepped back. “How do you know about Francis?”

A look of regret passed through Madeleine’s eyes before she answered.

“There has been gossip about a curse among the ton. Lady Laura Knight informed me that it had to do with the death of a Miss Francis Belmont, your betrothed.” She tactfully left out the death of his parents, he noted. It was a small mercy.

“My brother confirmed it when I asked him about her,” she went on. “Upon hearing Cecil’s account of the events, I felt it best to withdraw from my agreement with you so as not to cause you further pain. You need not pretend to love me anymore. I am certain that it could not have been easy for you.”

Anger flooded Percy’s heart and mind, but he stopped himself from saying something that he would regret. Squaring his shoulders, he looked her full in the face.

“My curse and my history have nothing to do with this conversation. You must wed to protect yourself. You can no longer live in foolish denial. I will remain in our agreement until such a time as you have found a suitable gentleman to be your husband then I will bow out of the way. I believe Hamish MacElroy to be a respectable candidate. He appears to have true affection and respect for you.”

Percy thought that Madeleine might spit fire she looked so angry with him. “I do not need your help or your opinion! I release you from our agreement whether you wish to be released or not!”

She moved to storm away, but Percy reached out and grabbed her arm pulling her to him. “Do you wish to be held in the arms of Herbert Mowbray? Do you wish to lie beneath him every night for the rest of your life with his drunken fetid breath upon your skin?”

“How dare you!” she seethed.

The strike of her hand was quick—so much so that he had no time to register that it had even lifted to his eyesight before her palm came slapping profoundly across his face. It stunned him as much as it aroused him, and he froze for a moment—just a moment. Just enough time for her to rip loose from his grasp and take off running down the terrace steps.

Seconds ticked by as he let the pain of her slap absorb into him, but then he was going after her. He knew he was being crass and deserved to be slapped, but he needed to get through to her. She needed to understand the true impact of the decision she would soon be forced to make, one way or another.

The longer he followed her trail, the more his own words began to affect him. The thought Herbert Mowbray’s hands upon her body in any fashion was filling him with a desperate rage, and the moment he moved passed the group of lords and ladies walking by, he quickened his pace and made his way around the bend. He caught sight of the edge of Madeleine’s skirts just as she was darting between two large boxwood trees.

Not bothering to look if he was being watched or followed, Percy broke into a run. As he burst out onto the other side of the trees, though, he halted, taken aback by the more private, smaller garden before him. Eight fully bloomed, pink rose bushes were planted in tall, granite urns surrounding a large, three-tiered marble fountain with a statue of two intertwined lovers sat at the very top.

As alluring as he found it, though, Percy pulled his eyes away and was about to walk through the opposite wall of boxwoods when he heard a soft sob. Percy immediately moved toward the sound and found his Monkey sitting on the other side of the fountain, sobbing into her hands.

“Madeleine,” he breathed, going to his knees before her.

She jerked away from him, pulling her hands away from her face as she did so, and in that moment, he would have preferred that she had slapped him again. It was not anger in her eyes. It was fear.

“How dare you say such things to me,” she whispered through her sobs, shaking out her hands as if she’d just been burned. “How dare you put such imagery into my mind! You think I want that? For such a man to- to?—”

It was then that Percy realized something. He was revolted by the thought of Herbert touching her like that, but she was downright terrified. And he had been the one to put that terror into her. Madeleine began to shiver before him as her breathing grew more ragged, and he realized that he had went much too far.

“Madeleine, my darling, look at me,” Percy stated calmly. He had been acting as a spoiled boy; that was going to stop now.

Madeleine shivered harder before him, and when she did not look up, he reached for her hands with great tenderness. Not possessively, not out of frustration, but out of the affection he could no longer deny. Despite the warm summer air, her hands felt like ice as he took them into his own. Concern riled through him at the stark difference in temperature, but he remained calm and stroked his thumbs down each of her palms.

“Look at me, sweetheart, please,” he whispered. “I need to see your eyes.”

With effort, Madeleine lifted her head slowly, and what he saw had him choking down a ball of emotion. Hurt, betrayal, and worst of all, terror shone brightly back at him.

“You think I want that man touching me?” she asked, her voice trembling. “You think I yearn to be a plaything for him?”

“I know that is not what you want,” Percy replied quickly. “I was simply trying to illustrate what your future would look like if you did not choose someone else.”

“I know what my future shall look like without your illustrations,” she hiccuped. “And whether it shall be Herbert Mowbray or Mr. MacElroy, I will be disgusted when the time comes to forfeit my body because I do not want them.”

Unable to help himself, Percy lowered his head to her hands and started to place kisses along her fingertips, her palms, her wrists, and he felt a subtle shift in her as she began to calm down.

“I am sorry,” he whispered, wishing he could take it all back. Not just his harsh words from the moment before, but all of it. “I’m so sorry, Madeleine.”

He sensed her body curl toward him, and a moment later, he felt her forehead press against the back of his head. For a small span of time, they stayed that way, both of them silently mourning what they were about to lose.

Then Percy began to move, nuzzling his head against hers one subtle movement at a time until her forehead came rest upon his. His hands then left hers, and he framed them around her face, touching his lips to first her temple, then her cheek, then her nose.

A whimper slid from Madeleine’s throat as he brushed his lips against hers, and he felt the rest of her tension melt away. Her arms then came around his neck, as if urging him for more, and he slipped his hands from her face to her waist as he deepened the kiss.

Pleasure soared through him as he swept his tongue over hers, and as he pulled her gently away from her seat, she went with him willingly into his lap. The moment she did, he reveled in the way her weight felt atop him—how it engulfed with warmth—and he gripped the edge of her skirts. He broke the kiss only long enough to look into her eyes with his silent plea, and when she gave him a willing nod, he could not help the small, choked groan as he let his hand disappear beneath the fabric.

Percy reclaimed her lips, continuing to pleasure her with his fingers as her sobs transformed into a soft sounds of pleasure. He kissed his way down her throat to the bit of cleavage exposed by her dress. Here he paused and paid the top of each rounded globe due homage. Once he had kissed every inch of exposed flesh, he pulled down the front of her dress to expose the tight little nipples that adorned them.

“Percy?” Madeleine asked uncertainly.

“Trust me,” he whispered as he reached out to flick one and then the other with his tongue. Gooseflesh instantly formed on her skin as the nipples responded to his touch. Madeleine let out a small sound that encouraged him to continue. Taking a nipple into his mouth, he suckled, lavishing it with all of the attention that he wished to give her entire body. He then did the same for the other.

“Percy!” Madeleine’s voice had taken on an urgent, almost panicked need. “Please, Percy! I need you!” She clawed at his back, her body needing more. “I need you now!”

Her desire was nearly his undoing, but he would not ruin her. He could not allow himself to go further and rob her of her virtue. Instead, he poured all of his own needs into her pleasure as his fingers increased the friction between her legs. His fingers were laden with her nether dew, signaling that she was close to reaching her end.

When she fell over the edge of blissful oblivion, she cried out his name as if in a prayer to God. She clung to him, her head thrown back, her eyes closed, her breathing labored, her mouth open in ecstasy. For a moment, she stayed there, as if her body could not yet move, and then in a heavy exhale, she relaxed back into him, her forehead once more resting on his. It was the most beautiful thing that Percy had ever seen. He nearly lost himself right then and there from the sight of it.

When she opened her eyes, she looked deep into his, and what he saw there nearly broke him. “Percy, I…”

Percy shook his head in denial of what he feared she was about to say. Withdrawing his hand from between her legs, he lifted her from his lap, placing her back on the edge of the fountain. In truth, his arousal doubled as he felt his biceps contract and swell, loving the effort put forth. Madeleine was not just someone he or anyone could toss around; she was the physical embodiment of warm and soft. He was not sure he would ever be able to touch a smaller woman again.

“Marry Hamish MacElroy,” he commanded as he got to his feet though his voice came out hoarse and defeated.

It was the best choice. Her only choice if he could have anything to do with it. The others would push and prod and force, but Hamish would not. He could, at the very least, give her the respect of her own body.

“What?” Madeleine asked, stunned and confused. “You are telling me to marry another man?”

He understood why she was confused but could not let the pain he saw in her eyes influence his decision. It was for her own protection.

“Yes, I am. Marry Hamish MacElroy. He is the right man for you. If he cannot please you physically, then simply do what I just did with my fingers to yourself.”

The image of her pleasuring herself was almost more than Percy could handle. Not wishing to remain within the realm of temptation, he checked to make certain no one would see them then went to step out through the boxwoods, back into the main garden. Madeleine caught his hand before he go far and tugged him back into the smaller garden.

Madeleine, with hurt and anger in her eyes, studied him so closely that he had to look away, afraid of all that she might see within him.

“I do not believe in curses,” she said vehemently, her hand still clinging to his. “But I do believe in love.”

Emotion swelled in Percy’s throat as he drew narrowed eyes back at her, his mouth set into a grim, flat line.

“That is the real problem, is it not?” she asked. “That you still love her—Francis. Even though she is gone. Cecil said that you did not, but I do not believe it. She was on her way to see you when she died. She was on her death bed, and yet she still tried to get to you. If that is not love, I do not know what is. Cecil said that you did not love her, even if she did love you. So, I ask you. Do you still love her?”

“I do.”

The necessary lie came out easier than he predicted, and those two words seemed to still the breath in Madeleine’s lungs. She did not stop him as he untethered himself from her grasp.

“And I always will.”

“Percival…” he heard her breathe, and it was then he felt the enormity of his pain. Swallowing it like a lump in his throat, he ignored the urge to go back to her and left her to find her way back to the ball alone.