Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“How remarkable.”
“My father didn’t think so. He thought I was vapid and useless.”
“Frankly, my sweet, your father is an arse.”
She laughed, the sound honeyed and high, making me want to laugh with her. Then she clapped a hand over her mouth as if afraid to hear herself enjoying a light-filled moment. She was beautiful in her levity, and I found myself even more drawn to her.
“Do you ride?” I asked, needing to distance myself from my thoughts.
The light on her face dimmed. “Yes. But not since my mother passed.” She swallowed and looked away. “I had a horse I loved. She was a gift from my mother, and we would ride together. When she died, Father sold Star, making me watch as she was taken away.” She lifted my eyes. “I begged him not to, but he gave me a choice—sell her or he would shoot her.”
I shut my eyes at the cruelty she had endured. Reaching for her hands, I held them in mine.
“How old were you?”
“Four and ten.”
“May I ask how she died?”
“She was ill. One day, she seemed fine. The next, she was not. She died a few days later.”
“You must have been devastated.”
“I was. I still miss her. My entire life changed after she died.”
I asked her some more questions, enjoying listening to her pleasant voice, discovering an intelligence she kept hidden. We discussed art, her love of the subject obvious. She admitted she loved to sing but hadn’t raised her voice in song since her mother died.
“Except once,” she admitted, her hands twisting again on her lap. I stifled the urge to reach over and calm the nervous gesture.
“What occurred?”
“My father heard me and locked me in my quarters for three days without food. Only water—and a very small amount, at that. I never sang again.”
I felt the hatred I had toward Barnett grow. Blossom. Take on a life of its own.
His vile treatment toward his daughter was abominable. He told me to ruin her. Cast her aside, he said, his voice almost gloating in glee.
I thought of my idea of taking her elsewhere to be looked after. It felt wrong to take her to a new situation or have her work in the village. Serving others. She had done that far too long.
“Madeleine,” I said gently, waiting until she met my eyes. “I wish to ask something of you, and I would like you to speak the truth to me. There will be no consequences for honesty. Can you do that?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“How old are you?”
“One and twenty.”
That news pleased me, a kernel of an idea growing in my mind. Like a mist flowing over a field in the morning, it was still thin and wispy but beginning to take shape.
“Have you been to London?”
“London?” she repeated. “No, I have never been.”
“I have a friend there, newly married. His wife is a gentle soul. You would be well treated there. Would that please you? To be away from your father and live in the city?”
She hesitated, then shook her head. “No, my lord. I would prefer to remain in the country. But if you feel it is for the best, I will do so, as it will be better than what my life was at my father’s.”
“If you could choose your future, what would it be?”
Her voice was low. “I have not been able to hope for a future for a long time. When I was younger, I wanted a home of my own in the country. A husband and a family. I wished for happiness.”
I contemplated her. Thought of her upbringing. Reflected back on a conversation I’d had with Edward some time ago.
“You need a wife and an heir,” he informed me. “Soon. Your future is at stake.”
I had waved him off, but his words hit me soundly again, like an echo that refused to stop.
I required a future. Madeleine had none.
I found her beguiling. Her nature sweet and kind. To my astonishment, I liked her. For some reason, she delighted me. Recalling Geraldine’s words of her being a rare gem, I had to agree. She deserved more than the drudgery of toiling as a servant the rest of her life. She deserved to be the lady she was born to be.
The wispy idea solidified quickly in my brain, taking shape, causing me to smile. If I saw it to its completion, not only would I have acquired the land I desired, but I would also have angered Barnett to utter distraction when the news reached him. Beaten him at his own game. Then I would work on taking Milton Manor and completely ruining him. But that would be a dividend to the entire idea.
I studied Madeleine from under partially closed eyes. She had no idea I was watching her. Tallying up her potential. I discerned a backbone in her somewhere that her father had tried to remove. I saw it when she tried to defend her friend. When she insisted on aiding my suffering.