Madeline was a hidden treasure, with her innocence and wit and spirited warmth, but he needed to crush any excess tenderness he felt for her.
Just then she surprised him. Reaching for his hand, she placed her mouth against the heart of his palm, making his actual heart lurch again.
It was time to leave, Rayne decided. He had meant to stay until dawn, until he had satiated himself with her body and brought out all the hidden sensuality he knew was waiting to break free inside Madeline. There was also the matter of siring an heir. But there would be opportunities later to work on fulfilling his promise to his grandmother.
Easing his shoulder from beneath Madeline’s head, Rayne sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Rising, he went to the washstand and cleaned himself with a wet cloth, then returned to Madeline and did the same for her.
Her flush revealed her shyness, so for both their sakes, he kept his movements brief and un-loverlike.
Carrying the cloth back to the washstand, Rayne proceeded to pull on his breeches, remarking casually as he did so, “I have business in London first thing tomorrow morning, so I will take my leave of you now.”
Madeline had been watching him dress, but at his pronouncement, her head snapped up.
“You won’t stay with me tonight?” she asked, her voice hesitant and faintly bewildered.
“I don’t want to disturb your sleep when I must rise so early.”
Her eyes were huge and bright as she regarded him steadily. She looked almost … wounded.
Yet it couldn’t be helped, Rayne knew, hardening his resolve. It was best to begin as he meant to go on. There would be less pain for both of them this way.
“You shouldn’t worry if you don’t hear from me for several days,” he added. “Bramsley will keep a close eye on you and see to your protection. And you may apply to him for anything you need in my absence.”
His majordomo could be counted on to safeguard Madeline and to watch for Baron Ackerby, Rayne reflected. Yet she didn’t seem to appreciate his concern for her welfare.
When she remained mute, merely watching him with those enormous hurt eyes, he collected the remainder of his clothes and went to her bedside.
Bending, he captured her hot, sweet mouth with his one last time, offering silent reassurance in a brief kiss. Then drawing up the covers to conceal her lovely bare body before he was tempted to rejoin her there, Rayne turned and quietly left her bedchamber, aware of Madeline’s wounded gaze following him all the while.
Chapter Eleven
It is extremely disheartening, Maman, when I cannot even keep my husband in my nuptial bed on my wedding night.
When she awoke the next morning after a mostly sleepless night, Madeline lay there a moment taking stock. The strange bed. The unfamiliar delicacy of her body. The heightened sensitivity between her thighs and across her skin. The hurt in her heart.
The memory of Rayne’s wonderful lovemaking made her chest ache. Her wedding night was as perfect as nothing else in her life had ever been … until he had abruptly left her.
A renewed surge of misery struck Madeline as she clutched a pillow to her middle and squeezed her eyes shut. It was not uncommon for spouses of the noble class to have separate bedchambers, but it was rather mortifying that her new husband had retreated to his own rooms immediately after the consummation. Rayne’s abrupt departure for London directly after their wedding night, with scarcely a farewell, did not bode well for their marriage, either.
Yet she was to blame for her current misery, Madeline scolded herself, trying to drum up a trace of her former spirit. It was her own fault for building air castles. The impossible dreams she had woven in her mind of Rayne loving her, of Rayne wanting a real marriage with her, were just that—impossible.
She should never have set her hopes so high. She’d known how painful it would be when reality intruded.
You should have heeded Rayne when he warned you of his dispassion. It serves you right for acting so hastily and accepting his proposal.
Throwing off the covers, Madeline sprang from the bed so she could wash and dress. She was highly annoyed at herself for falling in love with Rayne. And she was determined to crush the painful combination of need and longing she’d felt in his arms last night.
Even so, as she found her undergarments that Rayne had removed so seductively last night, she had never been more conscious of a deep, abiding sense of loneliness. After his magical lovemaking, she found it even harder to deny her deep-rooted need not to be alone, to matter to someone.
“But that someone will not be Rayne,” Madeline reminded herself sternly. If she expected him to suddenly offer his heart in addition to his hand, she was doomed to disappointment.
She was winding her hair into its customary knot when she recalled Rayne’s suggestion that she wear it down to soften her plain features. Her sinking feeling of despair returned full-force, as did her misgivings about her appearance.
Yet there was no point in lamenting her lack of appeal, especially if she had no husband here to try and please. Besides, she was not one to wail about her fate.
She intended to put on a game face and to keep her day full, Madeline swore, setting her jaw. Immediately after breakfast she would write her brother again. The duel and her abrupt wedding had almost made her forget the danger Gerard was in, and she was supremely anxious to hear from him.
Afterward she would ask Bramsley, Riverwood’s majordomo, to show her around the house and make her known to the servant staff.