Deceived & Honoured - The Baron's Vexing Wife (Love's Second Chance #7)(10)
After all, this was the definition of utter failure, was it not?
In today’s world, there were many things women could not do to distinguish themselves. The one thing they could do, though, was marry a high achieving gentleman and share his title, his fortune and his standing in society. However, despite all her assets, Madeline had failed.
Utterly.
Completely.
Devastatingly.
“He compromised you?”
Drawing in a deep breath, Madeline did her best to calm her rattled nerves as she related the events at Lord Kingsley’s ball. “Father insists that I marry him as he fears my reputation would be undeniably ruined.”
Elsbeth nodded, an apologetic look in her eyes. “His reasoning is sound.”
“I know!” Madeline snapped yet again before the muscles in her jaw tensed, and she forced a deep breath down her lungs. “I do not fault him. He only does what he thinks best for me, but….” Closing her eyes briefly, Madeline felt her anger flare up once more. “I blame him. I blame….” Her voice trailed off, and once more she groaned in annoyance. “I blame whatever-his-name-is!”
“How can you not know his name?” Elsbeth asked, a touch of incredulity in her kind eyes. “Even if you didn’t know it that night, your father surely must have mentioned it.”
Madeline rolled her eyes, huffing, “I’m certain he did, and I’m equally certain I was not listening at the time.”
“Well, here at least I can help.”
Turning a confused gaze to her friend, Madeline frowned. “What do you mean?”
Giving Madeline’s hand a gentle squeeze, Elsbeth said, “His name is Derek McKnight, Baron Ainsworth.”
Madeline groaned, “He’s only a baron?” This was far worse than she had expected. “Wait! How do you know this?” After all, Elsbeth had never been one to gossip. Quite on the contrary. “And why don’t I?”
Elsbeth shrugged. “Considering your rather popular attitude regarding your future husband, this development has spread through town like nothing I’ve ever seen. Everyone knows his name.”
Madeline’s shoulders slumped. Would this keep getting worse?
“I also asked Frederick if he had heard of him,” Elsbeth said, a gentle question in her voice as she watched Madeline expectantly.
Madeline sighed, uncertain if she truly wanted to know more about the man she was to marry. “And what did your husband say?”
“Well,” Elsbeth began, “as far as he knew Lord Ainsworth is a simple-born man, who returned rather gloriously from the war and was awarded the title of a baron.”
All blood left Madeline’s face as she listened to her friend. “He’s a commoner?” she asked, almost breathless.
“He was,” Elsbeth corrected, a touch of a challenge in her pale blue eyes. “He’s a baron now, remember?”
Burying her face in her hands, Madeline closed her eyes. “Instead of a countess, now I’ll be a lowly baroness. Barely even a peer. The wife of a butcher or farmer or?”
“A soldier,” Elsbeth corrected once again, a hint of a reproach in her voice now.
“As though there’s a difference!” Madeline snapped as she jerked up her head, staring at her friend. “Everything I’ve worked for my whole life is now lost. Thanks to that…that soldier!”
With brows drawn down, Elsbeth looked at her, almost imperceptibly shaking her head. “I have to admit I’m rather disappointed in you, Madeline. Before, I always thought of your insistence not to marry anyone below the rank of an earl as an eccentric peculiarity of yours, hoping that once the time came, you would allow your heart to sway you.” Now, shaking her head for certain, Elsbeth held her gaze. “How can you discount him for his own achievements? You don’t even know the kind of man he is. Allow me to remind you that you were the one to leave the ballroom unchaperoned.”
“But he followed me!” Madeline hissed stubbornly, hating how this made her feel like an insolent child.
“Did you ask him why?”
“I did!”
“And pray tell, what did he say?” Elsbeth demanded, her watchful eyes trained on Madeline’s face.
Opening her mouth, Madeline realised that she could not recall what he had said. Had he even replied at all? He had hardly said a word that night.
Unable to keep still any longer, Madeline surged to her feet, resuming her pacing with vigour. “I don’t remember,” she finally admitted in a small voice, unable to meet her friend’s gaze.
After a long moment of silence, Elsbeth rose to her feet, holding out her hand to Madeline. “Come, a little fresh air will do you good.”
Although tempted to refuse out of fear to be subjected to the stares and whispers of London society, one glance in Elsbeth’s determined eyes told Madeline that such an attempt would be futile. And so, she found herself strolling through Hyde Park not half an hour later, welcoming the sun’s warmth on her skin, her lungs filling with fresh air.
“Better?” Elsbeth asked, tightening her hold on Madeline’s arm.
Madeline shrugged. “A little. Unfortunately, this doesn’t change anything.”
“No, but?”
“Good day, Lady Elmridge, Lady Madeline.”
At the sound of his voice, goosebumps broke out all over Madeline’s body. Turning her head, she forced a breath of air down her lungs. “Good day, Lord Townsend,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as her eyes raked over his smiling face.