“I believe I should be the one to know what I deserve, my lord. But I agree with you. If you’ve chosen a wife, I should go. Have you told Lady Elizabeth yet?”
He shook his head slowly. “I think it’s best if I tell her after you leave.”
Madeline nodded once more, then turned on her heel and moved toward the door.
“Wait,” he called.
She stopped, only turning her head to the side to acknowledge him.
“This is for you.” He pushed a small leather pouch filled with money toward the edge of the desk.
She turned around abruptly, stalked to the edge of his desk, grabbed the pouch, and rifled through it quickly.
Justin cleared his throat. “There’s a letter of reference, the Duke of Hollingsworth’s address, and six months’ wages. If you want more, you need only ask for it.”
Madeline pulled out the letter and the address card and tossed the pouch full of money back on the desk. She leaned over, bracing her knuckles upon the top, and looked him dead in the eye. “Let me make myself clear, my lord. I spent the night with you last night because I wanted you, the way a woman wants a man, not the way a doxy looks for a payday. I’ll take the new position, but I refuse to take money I didn’t earn. I am no whore.” Her tone dripped with ice, and her face was a mask of stone. She turned on her heel again and stalked from the room.
A knot twisted in Justin’s gut as he watched her go. He hated that it had ended this way. But he’d be lying to himself if he thought he could keep his hands off her. They’d made the ultimate mistake last night. They’d gone too far. What could he possibly offer her except unhappiness and possibly a bastard child? No. She was hurt, but it was better this way. He’d been right all along. He wasn’t cut out for love. He never would be. Emotions were messy things that caused pain.
Madeline had already allowed her emotions to get involved. She’d obviously been hurt when she’d left. She seemed angry, but he could tell underneath she was hurt. And he’d done that. He’d done that by allowing her to get close to him. By touching her. By spending the night with her.
He’d made a dozen mistakes when it came to Madeline, but at least he could do the right thing now. He hadn’t told her he was planning to marry Henrietta Hazelton. It would only cause her to ask questions. Questions he didn’t intend to answer. But he could provide Madeline with a better opportunity than the one she had in his household. He’d spent the entire afternoon talking to men at the club, trying to discern which household would be the best fit and provide the best accommodations for her. Hollingsworth’s had sounded like the most agreeable position.
Justin didn’t expect Madeline’s thanks. It was the least he could do after he’d taken advantage of her. Of course, he understood why she’d refused his money, but he’d had to offer it to her. She’d refused it like a queen. He didn’t blame her for that either, but regardless, sending her away from his household was for her own good. She would realize that eventually. And he would spend the rest of his life trying to assuage his relentless guilt.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Back upstairs in her bedchamber, Maddie tossed her belongings in her satchel. She didn’t own much, so it didn’t take long. This time, there wasn’t a tear in sight. She wasn’t sad…she was furious. She turned in a circle, wanting to take out her frustrations and hit something. She had managed to remain calm while she’d been in Justin’s presence, but the moment she’d left the room, overwhelming anger had spread through her like wildfire.
How dare he offer her money? How dare he act as if he were doing her a favor? How dare he attempt to buy her off as if he were paying a common doxy? As if her presence was merely some insignificant problem to sweep under his expensive rug. He’d decided upon a wife today? That was interesting, given that he’d spent the night with her last night, the bastard.
And to think she’d fancied herself in love with him. She wasn’t in love with the blackguard. The things he’d made her feel in bed had merely confused her. Muddled her thinking. He hadn’t declared his love for her, had he? On the contrary, he’d chosen a wife and all but kicked her out of his household mere hours after they’d made love. Oh, Maddie knew it wasn’t as if he could have fallen to one knee and declared himself to her, but it stung to hear that he’d chosen a wife so quickly after sharing such intimacy with her.
She spun around in one last circle, frustrated by a lack of punchable objects, before finally dropping to the bed and expelling her breath in a thwarted huff. She was angry with Justin…for how he’d treated her, for how he’d handled it, but she truly had no one to blame but herself. She’d made a mistake playing with fire, and now she had to suffer the consequences of that mistake.
She was fortunate, actually, that he hadn’t forced her out without a reference or a new position. But even as she had that thought, she knew Justin would never do that. He was too kind. That’s why she’d thought she’d fallen in love with him.
She might not have taken the money, but she wasn’t a complete idiot. She would take the position at the duke’s house. Besides, Justin was right. She did need to get as far away from him as possible. She probably should have taken the money, too, but she’d die before she allowed herself to feel like a whore. She still had her pride. She didn’t need his guilt money.
She would start fresh. No more playacting or dances in the moonlight with handsome gentlemen. No more ridiculously good-looking marquesses who kissed you. The Duke of Hollingsworth was an old, married man. There was absolutely no chance of repeating her mistakes in his employ.
Once her bag was fastened, she took a brief look around the room she’d lived in for the last two months. She would miss it here. For more reasons than one. She sat down at the writing desk and penned a short missive to Lady Elizabeth. She couldn’t bring herself to talk to her mistress face-to-face, and Justin was probably right. Lady Elizabeth shouldn’t know until after Maddie was gone. She suspected Lady Elizabeth wouldn’t be happy and would either insist she stay or insist she talk to her brother, and Maddie couldn’t do either thing. No. It was better this way. She needed to leave this place. She’d made more mistakes here than she cared to think about. She needed to put it all in the past.
She waited a few moments for the ink to dry on the parchment, then she hefted her satchel onto her shoulder, folded the note, and left the room, softly clicking the door shut behind her.
She stole down the back staircase to the second floor, where she peeked out to ensure no one was about. Then she hurried down to Lady Elizabeth’s room and pressed the note between the doorframe and the closed door.
Then she returned to the staircase, made her way to the ground floor, and left out the servants’ entrance in the back. She’d already determined that her new employer’s house was not far. She would walk past the mews to the end of the next road. It would be a short walk and she could use the fresh air…even though darkness had begun to fall.
As she left Lord Whitmore’s property, she lifted her head high, straightened her shoulders, and she did not look back.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Justin was sitting in his study, downing yet another glass of brandy, when Eliza came marching into the room. She didn’t knock. Instead, she stomped up to his desk and tossed a note atop it.
“I know why you’re here,” he drawled, rubbing his forehead where the devil of a headache had taken root.
“Of course you do, but still do me the courtesy of reading her note.”
