Historical Romance – The Best Of The Year. Кэрол Мортимер

but the man had died the previous year without issue. His title would now be defunct and his fortune would pass to his only surviving relative—and that was his beautiful wife.

      Even if the estate was mortgaged there must be something left...jewels, horses, but most importantly Madeline Lethbridge. It was her Rochdale wanted above all else. He had always been attracted to pretty innocents, but something about Madeline made him want to subdue and own her, to teach her to obey him.

      At the ball he’d danced with a pretty young innocent who had been flattered by his compliments. Had Rochdale not been obsessed with Madeline, he might have seduced the chit for she was ready enough and ripe for the picking. She would not be the first innocent he had forcibly seduced. Only once had his iniquity been discovered and he’d fought a duel, which led to the death of Sir William Mardle and the decline of his daughter. Miss Ellen Mardle had retired from public life and, although her name had not been besmirched, there had been rumours about the reason her father had called Rochdale out.

      A smile touched his mouth. The honourable fool had insulted him over some trifling incident and, when he responded by sneering in his face, had called him out and chosen pistols. Mardle had never stood a chance for Rochdale was a crack shot as well as being a master with the foils. He had fought half-a-dozen duels and three times killed his man, wounding the other three severely. Since on each occasion he’d been the one called out, he had received no more than a stern warning from the magistrate. Despite his reputation, he still had some influential friends—friends about whom he knew devastating secrets, just as he’d known about Lethbridge’s cheating at the tables.

      If the fool had been able to control his wife, this business might have been over, for he seldom found a woman of interest once he’d had her a few times, but Lethbridge had reneged on his bargain and he’d paid the price. A ball in the back when he was engaged in a duel with Ravenscar had been a masterly stroke, but because Ravenscar had held his fire it had miscarried. Had he shot no one would have known that it was Rochdale’s ball that killed Lethbridge. An observant doctor might have discovered two wounds, but ten to one Ravenscar would have missed. It took a steady nerve to kill a man in cold blood. As it was, Rochdale had had to run in order to escape detection and that did not suit his pride.

      His grievances against Hallam Ravenscar were mounting. To discover that Madeline loved him—had given him her kiss willingly and planned to wed him—had infuriated Rochdale. In his anger he’d lied about the amount owed him, but it was an easy matter to forge the other notes for he had a talent that had come in useful on more than one occasion. He’d forged his uncle’s signature on a will that made him the heir and disinherited his more deserving cousin. A few gambling debts was nothing...yet the money was scarcely compensation for what he truly wanted.

      Money would not satisfy this hunger inside him. Revenge was necessary to him if he were ever to forget his humiliation at her and Ravenscar’s hands.

      Irked by the length of time the blacksmith had taken to shoe his horse, he told his groom to fetch him when it was ready and strolled over to the inn. He was just in time to see three people getting into a chaise. For a moment he could not believe what he was seeing—what on earth was Madeline Lethbridge doing sharing a post chaise with her maid while the former footman rode behind them on his horse?

      Where was Hallam Ravenscar or the Ravenscar grooms?

      Perhaps, more importantly, where was she going?

      A smile spread over his face and he laughed inwardly. Was the stupid little fool running away again? Hallam Ravenscar would never have allowed her to undertake a journey with only one man for protection—so the chances were that he did not know.

      It would be most interesting to discover where she was headed. Rochdale had nothing more important to do with his life and he could feel the excitement mounting inside him. There was now every chance that he could have the prize that had eluded him for weeks—and once he’d used her and brought her to his knees, in a few months, he would invite Ravenscar to come and fetch her. That way he would have his revenge on both of them. If Ravenscar challenged him to a duel, he would kill him.

      It was all so simple and easy that he was laughing as he went into the inn and ordered some ale. A few coins in the hand would buy him their destination and then he could follow and bide his time.

      She had made it easy for him.

       Chapter Eleven

      ‘Madeline...are you still asleep?’ Jenny asked, peeping round the door. ‘Oh...you’re not here.’ She walked into the room, thinking that it was unusually untidy. Madeline’s maid always kept everything just so, but there was a glove dropped on the floor, some writing paper lying on the desk and a night-chemise thrown over a chair. It was most unlike Sally to leave things like this and it made Jenny wonder. Then she saw the letters lying on the dressing table and walked across to investigate. Seeing that one was addressed to her, she picked it up and broke the seal. ‘Oh, no,’ she cried as she read the few lines. ‘How foolish...’

      Snatching up the other letter that she now saw was addressed to Hal, she went swiftly from the room in search of her husband. Adam was in the library, sitting at a desk littered with ledgers when she entered and did not at first look up from his books.

      ‘Adam, please forgive me for interrupting your work, but I must speak to you on a serious matter.’

      He glanced up with a smile. ‘If you’ve overspent your allowance, I quite understand, my love. Just have the accounts sent to me.’

      ‘No, it isn’t that,’ Jenny said. ‘It is Madeline...she has run away because she fears to bring shame on us all.’

      ‘What?’ Adam cried, looking stunned. ‘No, how could she be such a fool? Does she have no sense in that beautiful head of hers? She may be abducted and goodness knows what...and Hal will never forgive me.’

      ‘She thinks he will be better off without her,’ Jenny said, close to tears, ‘and that we shall not be exposed to scandal if she leaves now. How can she think that we would care for that? Or that it would much affect us whatever that wicked man tried to do?’

      ‘As to that I dare say it might be unpleasant for a while, but we should come about. Hal was of the same mind. Last night he was convinced that he must take Madeline abroad once they were wed to avoid the scandal. He fears that she would be ostracised and he did not wish to bring shame on our family. We argued for an hour or more. In the end I believe I convinced him that a few months abroad on his wedding trip would be sufficient for the gossip to die down—and he was considering keeping the estate his mother left to him and returning to it when they came home. He would not take the position I offered him. I fear he is too damned proud.’

      ‘She left a letter for me—and one for Hal,’ Jenny said and offered it to her husband. He took it, hesitated, and then broke the seal, exclaiming in exasperation.

      ‘Damn it! She must have heard me...’

      ‘What do you mean?’ Jenny was puzzled.

      ‘I questioned her feelings for him,’ Adam said. ‘I thought she was cold and did not love him as she ought. But the foolish woman has run away rather than let him ruin his life for her sake and that shows that I was wrong. She does care for him.’

      ‘Should you have read Hal’s letter?’

      ‘It is as well I did for if he read this...’ Adam shook his head. ‘She makes some excuse about not being worthy of him, but I am certain this is my fault. I caused this, Jenny—and it is up to me to do something about it.’

      Jenny watched as her husband walked to the fireplace and tossed Madeline’s letter to Hal into the flames.

      ‘Adam! That was not yours to dispose of.’

      ‘Hal must not see that for it would destroy him,’ Adam said. ‘If he returns while I’m gone, you will show him yours, but say nothing of a letter for him.’

      ‘Are