Chapter Five

“It’s a lovely day for a walk, don’t you agree?” Carrington asked as he strode into Stafford’s drawing room the following morning. The Viscount was ensconced in a home on Queen’s Square for the Season, but a short distance from Carrington’s own household in the Royal Crescent. While he was eager to catch up with his old friend, he was dearly hoping that Madeline would be at home when he had knocked on the door.

His hope was realized when he saw her put aside a piece of stitching and rise as he walked into the room while Stafford stood from his desk, where he had been busily shuffling papers. Stafford and Carrington bowed to each other and Madeline bobbed a small curtsy in Lord Carrington’s direction. “It’s beautiful outside. Shall we take a turn in the out of doors?”

Stafford tsked slightly. “I would love to join you, but alas, my steward is coming up from the country today to discuss some affairs. But, perhaps Madeline…” he trailed off, gesturing towards his sister, a question in his eyes.

“I’d be honored if you would accompany me, Lady Madeline,” Carrington said with a small bow. “If you please.”

Maddy bit her lip for only a moment. “Let me retrieve a bonnet, and I’ll meet you outside in a few minutes, Lord Carrington.”

“As you please,” Carrington said with a small smile.

Minutes later, they were ambling away from Queen’s Square, with the intention of taking the Gravel Walk there and back, enjoying the thin sunshine of the day. “And how does Bath treat you thus far, Lord Carrington?” Maddy inquired, secretly adoring the feel of his muscles bunching under her hand as she grasped his proffered arm politely.

“Fair, I suppose,” he replied after a pause. “If I may be honest, it’s a bit hard to be thrust back into society after being away for so long.”

Maddy nodded. “May I ask… were you…” She tried to decide how to word her question. So many men were reluctant to discuss their part in the war, and though she knew Lord Carrington was involved, she had no idea in what capacity. She’d overheard murmurs from her brother about his involvement, but…

And considering his evasiveness last night, she wasn’t sure she should ask.

“I was a spy against the French,” he said softly. “I’ve not told anyone of my involvement, so I am depending on your confidence to keep this sensitive information quiet. It was… a difficult life, but one I was very good at living. This is all a bit… well, different.”

“I can imagine,” Maddy replied, daring not to think of the dangers he must have been in each day as he risked his life to provide vital intelligence to the British against Napoleon’s forces. “It must have been very frightening, and dare I say very isolating, not knowing who you could trust.”

Lord Carrington slid his eyes to her, seeming to marvel at her astute summary of his very feelings. “It was a lonely life, but I was very good at my job.”

“As evidenced by your being here today, having survived,” Maddy said, and Lord Carrington cursed under his breath, suddenly afraid she was now thinking of her poor departed husband.

“You mentioned your husband last night. Winchester? I…”

She gazed up at him, awaiting his question, her eyes clear but curious.

“You must have loved him very much, and mourn him still,” he ventured, hoping for safe terrain.

“Henry was a good man, and a kind one, but it was… it was not a… a love match,” Maddy whispered, knowing they were wandering into forbidden conversational territory. It was most impolitic for a woman to discuss her husband, particularly a departed one.

“I’m sorry to hear it,” Carrington said softly.

“You are?” Maddy asked, her heart aching. Perhaps she had misread his tone, the stilted conversation they’d had all night at the ball, the way his hand had gripped her waist during the Barley Mow last night, the way his eyes had traced her…

She had so hoped, had dared to hope, that perhaps… he felt as she did, that absence makes the heart grow fonder…

“I’m sorry to hear that it wasn’t a love match. A woman of your beauty, your stature, your intelligence deserves nothing less than a love match.”

Maddy shrugged slightly. “I thank you for your kind words, sir, though I’m sure I don’t deserve them.”

“Oh, but you do,” Carrington said. “You are just as I remembered, but so much…” He stopped himself, forcing himself not to express his admiration. ”You deserved a husband who would come back to you, and love you as you deserve.”

“Well, that chance at love seems to have slipped through my fingers,” Maddy said pragmatically. “No one of the peerage would dare marry a young widow, and of a soldier, no less.”

“An officer.”

Maddy laughed slightly. “The distinction hardly matters. I’m ‘damaged goods’, as they say. No good for marrying anymore. I’ve come to accept that, truly.” Squaring her shoulders, she shifted the conversation. “But what of you? Has a lady of Bath attracted your attentions? Surely a man of your stature is in want of a wife. Judging from last night, you certainly have many lovely ladies to choose from.”

“The Season is young yet,” he said teasingly, and she laughed softly. “Do you know of any young ladies who would be willing to make a match with a war-torn wreck like me?”

She studied him for a long moment, pretending to size him up in her mind before speaking. “Well, you still dress very fine, and you don’t have any visible scars or wounds. You are still an accomplished dancer, though there is the matter of…”

“Of?” He prompted.

“Well, your temperament, your obvious lack of wit, and your sloth, my lord. I would have to suggest that no woman would have you.”

His jaw dropped open at the earnestness of her words, wounding him more than he cared to admit. “My…”

“But, as I say, you do dance well. You may be able to catch a wife with that talent,” Maddy continued as though he had said nothing. She turned her face away, hiding a wicked smile.

Lord Carrington let out a gust of air with a laugh. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s not nice to tease your elders?”

Maddy turned back to him, biting her lip to prevent her smile from breaking though. “My sincerest apologies, my lord. I meant no disrespect.”

“Well, I’m much aggrieved,” Carrington said, his voice suddenly somber, dictatorial.

Maddy felt herself pale. “My lord, I do apologize. I was only teasing. I forget that we aren’t children together any longer. It’s not appropriate. I… I’m most sorry, my lord. Please forgive me.”

Carrington studied her for a moment longer. “I’ll forgive you, as I know you are but a slow-witted dolt whose bloom seems to have faded.”

Maddy’s eyes dimmed, and she took a step back, hurt by his words though she knew he was teasing, but Carrington tugged her back against him, bumping her chest against his, rocking her back on her feet. “If you may tease, so may I,” he said, his voice a low growl.

“Of… of course, my lord,” Maddy stammered, both of them taking a beat too long to separate from their close stance.

“Jameson,” he said softly, as they began to walk again.

“My lord?” She asked, not quite able to meet his eyes, afraid he would see the attraction reflected in them.

“I was just wondering if you would ever be able to call me Jameson again, rather than ‘my lord’,” he replied quietly.

“It wouldn’t be proper, my lord,” Maddy replied.

“Of course,” he said quickly. “We must always be proper, mustn’t we.”

She looked at him quizzically, but his gaze was veiled, and she found herself unable to read his thoughts. And she certainly didn’t want him to know hers at this moment…

They took a few more steps in silence before Carrington consulted his watch. “I’m afraid I must return you home, as I have an engagement this afternoon.”

Madeline nodded her assent, her mind whirled at what had just transpired between them, which seemed to have more gravity than just teasing, each word laced with earnestness, with hidden meaning.

But she daren’t hope he felt the same way about her as she did about him, despite the years long past when they were close friends.

The walk back to Queen’s Square was a silent one.

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