“You cannot be certain that he is even guilty!”
“Oh, he is guilty. And I will eventually prove it. Meanwhile, you don’t want me to alert your new employer to your brother’s misdeeds.”
“Pray, go ahead and do your worst,” she bluffed.
Ackerby pressed his lips together, obviously displeased with their standoff. As his complexion reddened with growing anger, Madeline decided that perhaps she was mishandling the situation. Even if Gerard was completely innocent, Ackerby could harm her reputation by making his accusations public. She had no desire to lose her new position at the academy because her family was tainted by scandal.
Nor did she want Rayne to discover that Gerard might be a thief. Rayne could understand—and even condone—filching a loaf of bread in order to survive the cruel ravages of starvation, but he would never countenance stealing a valuable heirloom.
In any case, she needed to buy time with Baron Ackerby to prevent him from going directly to the authorities. Then she had to make certain Gerard truly was guilty. If so, she would have to knock some sense into her brother’s witless head and make him return the stolen property before he was found with it and arrested.
Unlocking her clenched jaw, Madeline forced herself to adopt a more conciliatory tone. “There is no reason to share your suspicions with anyone here in Chiswick, my lord. You could be mistaken about Gerard, and if so, making false accusations would reflect poorly on you. And if my brother does indeed have the necklace, I promise you, I will persuade him to return it.”
“I am afraid that is not good enough.”
The gleam in Ackerby’s eyes told her clearly that he was enjoying making her squirm. Surprisingly, then, he seemed to back down. “Perhaps we can reach a compromise, my dear.”
“What sort of compromise?” she asked warily.
“I will settle for a kiss.”
Renewed anger and indignation streaked through Madeline at his gall. Ackerby was taking advantage of her vulnerability again, just as he’d done barely a month after her elderly employer’s passing when he’d made his shameless proposition that she become his mistress.
Her gaze dropping to his lips, Madeline shuddered at the thought of kissing the lecherous baron. When he took a step toward her, she tensed, reminding herself that her gardening shears were at hand if she needed to defend herself.
And yet he had her at a severe disadvantage and they both very well knew it.
“Let me see if I understand you correctly,” she said, striving to hide her disgust. “If I kiss you now, then you will allow me time to speak with my brother and persuade him to return the necklace to you—presuming he even has it? And in the meantime you will say nothing to anyone about the missing necklace or Gerard’s possible role in its disappearance?”
“Yes. It will be our little secret. Do we have a bargain?”
She wasn’t sure she could bring herself to say yes, no matter how much she loved her brother. Madeline muttered a silent oath as she stood there feeling trapped. She intended to save Gerard from his own folly, but when she found her incorrigible brother, she would throttle him for putting her in this untenable position.
At her hesitation, however, the baron closed the distance between them and grasped her shoulders, evidently taking her silence as acquiescence. Madeline barely had time to raise her hands between them before he bent his head to claim her lips.
His kiss was every bit as repugnant as she anticipated. Then Ackerby made it worse by thrusting his tongue forcefully inside her mouth. Madeline tried not to gag as she pushed her hands against his chest in an effort to make him release her, but his left arm wrapped around her waist to embrace her and draw her even closer.
When his right hand shifted from her shoulder to grope her breast, though, Madeline had had enough. Utterly repulsed, she gave a muted cry of protest as she struggled to shove him away.
At the same instant, she heard a fierce masculine growl that sounded like a curse. To Madeline’s startlement, the baron suddenly freed her, making her stumble backward. By the time she regained her balance, she realized that Rayne had grabbed Ackerby by his coat collar and hauled him away from her.
Before she could utter a word, Rayne spun the other man around and drew back his fist, contacting the baron’s jowl with a powerful blow that sent him flying to the ground with a decided thud.
Madeline was alarmed to glimpse the fury on Rayne’s face before he lunged after the fallen man, clearly set on dragging Ackerby to his feet so he could pummel him again.
With another, more vocal cry this time, Madeline grasped Rayne’s arm and held on for dear life.
“Stop, please—don’t hit him again!” she exclaimed breathlessly, trying to keep the two of them separated.
“Why not?”
“You might kill him.”
“That is precisely my intention.”
Looking deadly, he advanced another step, despite Madeline’s effort at restraining him.
“Please, Rayne,” she repeated more urgently.