He eyed her for a moment, then threw himself into the chair that the abbess had vacated. “I ought to be more than forgiven for the pleasure I gave you.”
She turned bright red. “Sir!”
“Oh, don’tsirme. You had a wonderful time. Deny it if you can.”
She could not, so it seemed wiser to stay quiet. Madeline cleared her throat repeatedly, wishing that the glow in her cheeks would fade.
I don’t know him,she realized in a rush.I don’t know him at all.
In her mind’s eye, she could still see him coming toward her across that courtyard, the children crowded adoringly around him. Theydidadore him. That sort of trust and love had to be earned.
Those children liked him, and children, as everybody knew, were adept at seeing through lies and bluffs.
“Perhaps I have not been as kind as I should be,” Madeline said at last, carefully.
Tristan snorted. “You’re the epitome of kind, my dear.”
“I am not. I was too sharp with you, too unforgiving. A room, I suppose, is just a room.”
And I have no right, no right at all to ask whether you thought of Miss Juliana Bolt when you were kissing me.
The memory of his kiss made her blush. She glanced up to find Tristan looking at her carefully, a frown between his brows. He seemed to be on the brink of saying something.
Whatever he meant to say, she was destined not to hear it. At that moment, the door creaked open, admitting two nuns, one carrying a tea tray and one carrying Adam.
“No tea for me, thank you,” Tristan said abruptly, rising to his feet. “I think I shall go home.”
Madeline swallowed. “And I will come with you.”
He glanced down at her, surprised. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Madeline answered firmly. “I am sure.”
Dorothea stood on the front steps to meet them, seemingly oblivious to the awkwardness between Madeline and Tristan.
“You’re back at last,” she gasped, waving a crumpled newspaper in the air. “Oh, the scandal sheets have been most cruel to you two. Your departure from the opera last night was noticed, Madeline, my dear. Speculation has run wild.”
“Let it,” Tristan grunted, handing over the sleeping Adam to Joan. “I don’t care much what they say.”
Dorothea sighed. “Well, we are not all as hardy as you, Tristan. Here, Madeline, read this.”
“She ought not to read it,” Tristan called over his shoulder, striding inside. The ladies hurried after him, with Madeline trying to read and walk.
It mostly said what she had expected to hear. The papers suggested that a breach was building between the Duke and Duchess of Tolford, leading to a public disagreement and the duchess ‘storming off’, as the paper claimed.
She thought of what they might have written had they known what had gone on in that little room, and her cheeks heated. Clearing her throat, she folded the paper and handed it back to Dorothea. Perhaps this would destroy society’s interest in Adam’s parentage. Now that she and Tristan were wed, there would be no real ill effects.
Actually, that is not true, she acknowledged.Adam’s inheritance could be called into question. Illegitimate children are often punished by law. If he were illegitimate, he might be pushed aside as duke for somebody else, by a distant uncle or so on.
It did not matter, of course. Adamwaslegitimate and could be proved to be Anthony and Betty’s child, born in wedlock. It was not a concern to Madeline, but she would have liked society to stop talking so much about it.
“Well, you needn’t worry,” Dorothea said, cutting into Madeline’s thoughts. “We can go out tonight and show thetonthat you and Tristan are as good friends as ever.”
Madeline paused. “Going out tonight? Where shall we go?”
Further up the corridor, Tristan stopped, stiffened, then began to walk back.
“Not another outing, Mother, please,” he sighed. “I am exhausted. I should like a quiet night in. Is that too much to ask?”
