Читать книгу The Vengeful Bridegroom - Kit Donner - Страница 11

Gabriel pulled Madelene out onto the landing and raced inside to contain the smoke and flames, Great George not far behind him. Together, using the bed counterpane and water from the washbasin, they smothered the flames in minutes. Although the fire and smoke caused little damage, the bedchamber would be uninhabitable until the smoke had dissipated. Once reassured all embers were dashed, Gabriel opened the two small windows and followed Great George down the stairs.

He found Madelene sitting on a bench with Mary in the common room. His wife clutched a draught, unable to keep from coughing, almost doubled over from a spell. A rough woolen blanket wrapped tight around her shoulders hid her disheveled state of undress.

His mouth grim, Gabriel stood on the opposite side of the table and leaned toward Madelene. “Was marriage to me so intolerable that you wanted to kill yourself, or are you simply a fool?” He bit his words out.

Madelene blinked at him and frowned. “Is there another choice?”

Surprised, Gabriel stepped back, and his anger at her subsided, slightly. “None. Your wedding attire has effectively gone up in smoke, which I can only assume was your intention and not burning the inn to the ground.”

She didn’t answer him immediately, taking a long swallow of what he hoped was weak ale.

He continued, his voice less stern. “I’ll obviously have to watch you more closely, to avoid any further disasters.”

When confident Madelene had overcome the worst of the smoke inhalation, Gabriel sought Great George to request bath water for his wife to remove the effects of the smoke, ignoring his own untidy combination of perspiration and soot.

The innkeeper and Mary went to fetch the tub and water in the kitchen while Gabriel sat down next to Madelene, still concerned over her condition.

“Madelene, please assure me that you are suffering no ill effects that a bath and sleep won’t cure,” he requested, staring into her dazed dark blue eyes.

She nodded slowly, obviously still bewildered about what had transpired. “I’ll be fine. It all happened so quickly. I had no idea.”

Removing a fine white handkerchief from his pocket, he started to wipe the soot smudges from her forehead, then thrust the handkerchief in her hand. He must remember to show no signs of kindness in order to achieve his goal. “If you promise to stay put for a few minutes, I’ll remove our baggage from the room so you might find something to wear.”

When he soon returned to the common room carrying the red-ribboned bonnet and matching gloves saved from the fire, he overheard Mary inform Madelene her bath was ready in the kitchen, where she would not be disturbed.

Showing Madelene the remainder of her bridal costume, he said wryly, “Apparently, you were unable to destroy all evidence of your marriage garments.”

Shrugging, she replied, “Perhaps Mary would like them, for I have no further use of them.”

Mary’s sad little face broke into a smile. “Oh really, miss! That would be ever so lovely! I mean, missus,” she exclaimed and hurried over to touch her new belongings. “I’ve never had nothing this nice before. Oh to be sure, I thank you, miss, and you, too, Mr. Brelford!” Grasping her bonnet and gloves to her chest, the little maid scurried from the room with her treasures.

Madelene rose unsteadily and found her husband’s hand on her elbow. Too tired to pull away, she let him lead her to the kitchen where her bath awaited. The smell of cheap wine and old fish hung in the air. She noticed while sinking into the nearest chair that Mary had left clean towels for her.

Unfortunately, her husband showed no interest in vacating the little kitchen, which was becoming warmer and warmer as much from the bath water as his nearness. She couldn’t quite determine why she felt unnerved by her temporary spouse. Indeed, he had no interest in her as a woman, if her brother was to be believed. Then she should have no concerns over their sleeping arrangements for the night.

But she did. Truthfully, Madelene’s new husband disturbed her, whether she wanted him to or not.

Enough of this woolgathering. There was nothing for it. When she swept a long curl away from her forehead, she noticed her gray grimy hands and frowned. Without further delay, she stood, gathering her faculties about her.

When Mr. Brelford made an effort to remove her blanket, Madelene dashed a few steps away, crossing her arms over her chest in protection and holding her blanket even tighter. What could he be thinking? Did he wish to play the role of lady’s maid?

“Mr. Brelford, would you kindly leave me alone to bathe? I am accustomed to bathing without an audience,” she told him politely. She raised her eyebrows and jerked her head toward the door.

Mr. Brelford’s lips twitched before replying. “There are a lot of things you’ll need to become accustomed to in the future as my wife. However, for the present, I’ll return to our room and have Mary wait outside, if by chance you have need of her.”

Ignoring his words, she watched him leave before casting off her remaining undergarments and stepping into the wooden tub, slowly sinking into the warm water. The bath soothed her and removed most of the travel and smoke grime. She prolonged it as long as she could until the water became cold and unpleasant. Earlier feeling sleepy, Madelene felt refreshed, and her mood vastly improved.

Wet hair draped over one shoulder, she climbed out of the tub to shrug into a wool robe when she heard a loud shout. With her borrowed robe clasped tightly in her hands, two young men burst into the kitchen yelling for Great George.

Her heart pounded in dismay but she took a deep breath, determined to brave her way through the situation.

“Gentlemen! As you can see, Great George is not, at the present time, located in the kitchen. Now, if you’ll be on your way in the direction from whence you came.” She tilted her chin, daring an argument.

They halted in stunned silence and surprise when they saw her in a state of undress, ogling her in their dusty traveling clothes. The older-looking one in a threadbare greatcoat and long, dark unkempt hair sauntered forward. “And what do we have here? Are you one of Great George’s new maids? He must know where to find them. What are you selling tonight, my lovely?”

Mr. Brelford pulled him back by his coat collar. When had he arrived? “Gentlemen, please return to the common room for Great George, and I would appreciate it if you would stop gawking at my wife,” he told them harshly as he strode over to Madelene.

She almost bristled at his possessiveness. Surely she could have handled the strapping young men with logical persuasion. But her husband thought she needed rescuing.

Wait. Something didn’t seem quite right. He was her husband and yet, not her husband. In the candlelight, she couldn’t see him clearly but assumed his countenance looked as harsh as his words. They both watched as the two intruders, eyes bulging from their heads at the sight of Mr. Brelford, bumped into each other trying to be the first through the door.

Her husband stood near her, ready to defend her, already acting the role of protector. But when he turned to her, she caught her breath, and she was the one stunned into silence, briefly.

What was he doing here? And where was Mr. Brelford, her husband? Why did he wear her husband’s clothes?

She shook her head. These circumstances did not bode well. The man standing before her was Gabriel Westcott. Her brother’s enemy. Hers as well.