Because You're Mine (Capital Theatre #2)(47)

Madeline backed away hastily. “I'll fetch some books and papers, a-and I'll read Mr. Bennett's report to you.”

“That's a start,” he said. “You can also bring me some decent food.”

“I can't do that. Dr. Brooks wouldn't approve. You wouldn't be able to keep it down anyway.”

“Food, Maddy,” he said imperiously, watching as she left the room. “And come back quickly. I've never been so bloody bored in my life.”

Madeline remained at the mansion for two weeks, aware that she would always regard this time as the happiest of her life. Each day she considered leaving but decided to stay just a little longer. She knew her behavior was irresponsible, but it didn't matter. The knowledge that her time with Logan was limited made it even more precious. She had not forgotten her vow to God to return home and marry Lord Clifton. Her bargain had been made in good faith, and God had fulfilled His part. She intended to keep her half of it.

Even confined to a sickroom, Logan seemed to live at twice the pace of other people. He badgered Madeline and the rest of the staff until they relented and allowed him four hours a day to conduct his business. From his bed or a nearby chair, he dictated letters addressed to Mr. Bennett regarding the management of the Capital, and sent missives to stewards and estate agents regarding his properties. In between, he corresponded with aristocrats, artists, and public figures…proposing projects, reminding them of promised sponsorships and donations, and accepting or rejecting social invitations.

“You must be the busiest man in England,” Madeline exclaimed after a particularly long session. She set down the pen and flexed her aching fingers.

“I have been for a while,” Logan admitted, fitting his hands behind his head as he leaned back against the headboard. He was dressed in a robe of luxurious burgundy-and-brown-striped silk. A narrow French déjeuner table had been placed by the bed to hold books and other articles he wanted close at hand. “Having a full schedule has helped me keep my mind off other things.”

“What things?” Madeline asked without thinking.

His lips curved with a smile that flustered her. “Lack of a personal life, mostly. It's not easy to find balance, especially when you're as involved in a profession as I am.”

“It would be easy for you to find a partner,” Madeline said, switching her gaze to the desk. She occupied herself with arranging the blotter, paper, and silver inkstand, aligning them precisely. “I'm certain any woman would have you.”

“But I wouldn't have just any woman.”

“Of course…” She fiddled with a sheet of paper, repeatedly folding it until it was a small, thick square. “You want a woman of experience. Someone mature and sophisticated.”

“That's what I wanted in the past,” he said, and waited until she glanced at him. His blue eyes were piratical as he added, “Now I'm not so certain.”

Unnerved, Madeline stood and went to the door. “I'll consult with the chef about luncheon.”

“You can do that later.”

“Would you care for some soup, or some fresh vegetables and a slice of ham—”

“I don't want to talk about food. I want to know why you've stayed so long to take care of me.”

She remained at the doorway, keeping a safe distance between them. “There was no one else to do it.”

“I have an entire staff of servants who could have managed quite well.”

Madeline took a deep breath. “I'm sorry if you would have preferred that.”

“Regardless of what I would have preferred, you've been under no obligation to take care of me.” His hand moved in a gesture for her to come to him. “I'd like to hear your reasons for staying. God knows it hasn't been easy for you.”

Madeline covered her discomfort with a wry smile. “I don't know how this all happened. I started out trying to seduce you, and instead you nearly expired in my arms.”

“Did you stay out of pity, then?” he asked, his blue eyes locked on hers. “Or do you still harbor hopes of seducing me?”

“No,” she said immediately, flushing. “I wouldn't…I don't want that anymore.”

“I should probably feel relieved,” he reflected out loud, although his tone held a distinct shadow of regret. His gaze continued to pin her in place. “I never understood why you were so determined to climb into bed with me.”

Madeline shrugged and cast a desperate glance over her shoulder, longing to flee to the empty hallway behind her. She couldn't begin to think of how to answer him.

Her distress hardly failed to escape his notice. He stared at her contemplatively, while the silence simmered around them. “At times,” he said slowly, “women have approached me that way because they consider bedding a well-known actor a sort of…trophy. A conquest they could boast to their friends about.”

“Yes,” Madeline said, seizing on the excuse, though nothing could have been further from the truth. “That's why I wanted you.”

Logan regarded her with a puzzled frown. When he spoke, his voice was softer and more tender than she had ever heard him before. “Little one…don't you know you're worth more than that?”

She dropped her gaze, unable to look at him anymore. If she didn't leave him now, she would weep and howl, and throw herself at him in a way that would embarrass them both. “But we didn't have an affair,” she said faintly. “There was nothing for either of us to be ashamed of. That's all that matters.”