He frowned. “Selfish?”
“Yes, exceedingly so. It was selfish of me to pretend to be a debutante for one night…or two. I knew if Lady Henrietta found out, she’d assume I’d stolen her things and sack me. Yet I still did it. I wasn’t thinking of my sister that night. I was only thinking of myself.”
Justin came around to sit on the bench next to Madeline, facing the opposite direction. “You’re exceedingly hard on yourself, you know that?”
She shook her head and turned to face him. “That’s kind of you to say. But let me ask you something, Lord Whitmore. If your sister found me wearing her clothing and pretending to be a guest at your party, wouldn’t you sack me?”
Justin chuckled. “I don’t think Eliza would allow me to.”
“That’s only because she knows what I’ve done and she’s a bit…forgive me saying so, but she’s…unconventional.”
She’d made him laugh again. “I’m certain Eliza would take that as a compliment.”
Madeline smiled too. “I think you’re right.”
“Your point is well taken, however. Though speaking of unconventional, I don’t think I’ve ever known a maid to sneak into a party wearing borrowed clothing.”
Madeline nodded. “I simply wanted to know how it felt. Just once. For one night.” She had a dreamy look in her eye.
He leaned closer to her, breathing in the soft fragrance of lilacs. “And was it everything you hoped for?” he whispered.
Her cheeks turned that adorable shade of pink again. “Yes.” She nodded. “Only, in my dreams, my gown is lavender, I am holding lilacs in my arms, and afterwards the gentleman I love invites me out on the balcony where he proposes marriage because he cannot live without me.” She shook her head and chuckled. “Of course, that is simply being fanciful.”
“It’s not so bad to be fanciful,” Justin replied softly. He wanted to kiss her again. Desperately so. Damn. Damn. Damn. He’d had such noble intentions, but a few minutes in her presence turned them to ashes. It took most of his strength to break the contact of their gazes, and it took his remaining strength to hastily stand and dust his hands across his breeches.
When he was several paces away from temptation, he shook his head and cleared his throat. “I must be off,” he announced.
“Oh,” she said. “You’re leaving?”
Was he imagining the disappointment on her face? Or was it wishful thinking?
He turned on his heel so seeing her wouldn’t tempt him further. “Yes, I’m going out…to the club. I…er…feel free to stay and play the pianoforte as long as you wish. Indeed, you’re welcome to play it whenever you like.”
He strode from the room, vowing not to look back. The sight of her sitting on the bench looking vulnerable and gorgeous would be too much. He needed to go out. Had to do it, in fact. He could not spend his evenings talking to a maid in his employ, wanting to kiss her…wanting to do much more. It was madness. Complete and utter madness. No good could come from it. Not only was she a maid, which meant she was strictly off limits to him, but she was a maid who had just informed him she wanted to marry for love. Which meant even if she was a countess, she was inappropriate for him. Love would play no role whatsoever in his future marriage.
He was exactly what Eliza had called him, a rake. He was his father’s son. And what did rakes do? They went to clubs. They visited gaming hells and brothels. They charmed beautiful women and made love to them. Which was precisely what he was going to do this evening. He took the steps up to his room two at a time, trying to put as much distance between himself and the ungodly temptation of Madeline. After talking to her, sitting so close to her, breathing in her sweet lilac scent, he was hard. And there was one way to purge himself of that particular discomfort. He was going out.
Chapter Nineteen
Maddie was the epitome of efficiency the next day. She’d pressed and organized all of Lady Elizabeth’s clothing. She had put away all the deliveries from the modiste in order—by color—in the wardrobe. She’d ensured the wardrobe was swept and dusted and smelling of fresh lemon wax.
She’d even taken the liberty of picking out the two most beautiful gowns to discuss with Lady Elizabeth when she returned. Her mistress would have to choose one for the ball the night of her debut. That night was nearly two months away, but it would be here before they knew it. Such events had a way of sneaking up on a young lady.
Maddie had spent the early morning writing a letter to her sister. In it, she told Molly all about her wonderful new position in Lord Whitmore’s household. Of course, she’d left out the part where she’d been sacked and had somehow managed to kiss her new employer twice. But that was hardly something she intended to share with her younger sister. Molly worried about her, and Maddie didn’t want to add to the worries. Besides, she told the truth in her letter. She had procured a new position in a much better household for a significant increase in wages. It was the exact sort of thing that her sister would be happy to read.
Maddie’s thoughts slipped to Lord Whitmore—Justin—only when she allowed them to. First, she’d spent a considerable amount of time admonishing herself for being a fool last night. Even with Lady Elizabeth’s permission, she shouldn’t have played the pianoforte. She was a maid, not a member of the family. But then she’d heard Lady Jessica playing earlier in the day, and the temptation to know if she still recalled how proved too great. It had been so long since Mama had taught her, but her fingers remembered everything, and it had been wonderful.
When Lord Whitmore had walked into the room and asked her where she learned to play, she’d nearly shot to the ceiling in surprise. She’d barely been in her new position for a day before taking an unnecessary risk again. Anyone else might have sacked her on the spot, or at least reprimanded her. Justin had only encouraged her to keep playing.
Then she’d been a complete ninny, boring him with the stories about her sister and her life before she’d come to London. And she’d all but accused him of being a rake. Of course, she’d heard it from his own sister, which seemed quite a reliable source, but it didn’t negate the fact that it had been extremely ill-mannered of her to mention it at all.
And then he’d left—both her presence and the house. Of course, he had. That’s what rakes did. He was probably out carousing with friends at some den of inequity or other, drinking and entertaining women of ill repute. Maddie didn’t know precisely what that might entail, but she knew it involved more than kissing.
That’s what had her so miserable this morning. It was also why she’d thrown herself into her work. Every time she thought about Justin kissing another woman, her stomach plummeted to her slippers and melancholy spread through her.
It wasn’t as if she could hope to capture the favor of a marquess, for heaven’s sake. She was well aware of her present station in life. But it still made her exceedingly sad to think of him with someone else. Perhaps living in this lovely house and in such proximity to him hadn’t been the best idea after all. Not if it was going to make her unhappy every time he went out for the evening. And from what the other servants said, it was a nightly occurrence.
Had Justin been with a woman last night? That’s what a rake did, didn’t he? He hadn’t brought one home, had he? No. Not with his mother and sisters in residence.
