Madeline bit her lower lip. Was Rayne saying that she was the kind of woman who wouldn’t attract a lover? Or that he believed her claims of innocence?
He seemed sincere, perhaps even contrite—or was that merely wishful thinking on her part?
“You were right,” he added in the same solemn tone. “I have been keeping secrets from you.”
Her searching gaze locked on his blue eyes, while her stomach clenched in a knot. At his mention of secrets, she was suddenly certain Rayne meant to confess to having his own adulterous affair.
Yet his next words dispelled her worst fear. “My absence from Riverwood this past week had nothing to do with having a mistress, Madeline. I am not keeping one. Rather, I was commissioned by the Home Secretary to investigate a plot to assassinate the Prince Regent.”
“A plot?” she repeated after a moment, afraid to let herself feel relief.
“Yes. You recall meeting my friend, Will Stokes? He assumed my duties during my absence today, but events are coming to a head, which is why I must return to London at once.”
“Of course,” Madeline murmured, her sinking despair reappearing with a vengeance. Rayne had left important matters of state at a crucial stage in order to rush off to Maidstone to deal with her problems, and now he was clearly impatient to resume his responsibilities.
“Perhaps it would be best if you returned to Chiswick tonight,” he suggested. “Just now my staff there can better care for you than I can. As can your new friends.”
Madeline flinched inside, even though understanding why Rayne wanted to be rid of her. She would only be a distraction when he needed to concentrate on foiling the plot. Rayne would find it hard to forgive himself—or her—if the Regent was killed while he was away.
“Yes,” she agreed, latching on to the first excuse that occurred to her, “it would be best. I am scheduled to teach at the academy tomorrow, and I have neglected my classes long enough.”
Judging from his expression, it was not the reply he wanted. Yet he didn’t press her. “Very well. My carriage will take you on to Riverwood after depositing me in London.”
Nodding, Madeline returned the remains of her meal to the basket. Then folding her arms protectively over her middle, she averted her gaze to stare out the coach window. The emptiness inside her yawned wide, while countless self-recriminations pummeled her.
She had been such a fool, Madeline reflected. She’d tried to become a femme fatale, allowing Rayne to take over her heart so completely that she had become a different creature, one she barely recognized.
She should have known that seducing him would never work, that winning his love would be impossible. She blamed herself most, but Rayne was at fault as well, because of all the things he’d made her hope for, yearn for.
She wished now that she had guarded herself better against hope. If she had, she wouldn’t be feeling this desperate hurt in her heart.
She had to do better at protecting herself, Madeline vowed.
Acting on her new resolve, she eased away from Rayne, from the warmth of his big, muscular body.
“I think I would like to try and rest now,” she said in a dull voice. “I had little sleep last night.”
He hesitated for a moment, as if he might say more, but again he didn’t press. “As you wish.”
Something dark and heavy pressed down upon Madeline’s chest as she curled up in the far corner, facing away from Rayne.
Even though she pretended to sleep, however, she remained awake the entire time, her eyes dry and burning. The rhythmic jolt and sway of the coach was broken at regular intervals when they changed teams.
It was several hours later, after darkness had fallen, when she thought she felt Rayne’s light touch against her nape.
“We are here.”
Madeline sat up as the coach came to a halt.
A footman opened the vehicle’s door, and Rayne gave her a long, silent look before stepping down.
Then he turned back to say quietly, “I meant my apology, Madeline. But we will discuss it when this is all over.”
Only then did she realize that what Rayne was doing could be highly dangerous.
“Please take care,” she urged in a small voice.
“I will, love.”