Chapter Twelve

This was getting ridiculous, Maddy thought as she set her wine glass down after taking a sizable swallow of the luscious red.

Another day past without Jamie so much as saying hello to her, and yet another tortuous and lavish dinner across from the damnable Lady Drake.

She had half a mind to march over to Jamie and demand to know who created the seating arrangements and why he was avoiding her.

Unless he truly didn’t want to know her as a friend anymore.

She wasn’t sure which was worse – not being a friend at all, or not even having a chance at being something more.

She and Rose exchanged pained glances as Lady Drake launched into a recitation of all the reasons Bath is inferior to London, and Maddy reached for her wine glass again.

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She looked like an angel, the candlelight burnishing her golden hair until it looked like she was wearing a halo.
Madeline Winchester looked like an angel, acted like a lady, and had no business getting involved with someone like him, Jamie thought angrily, barely stopping himself from slamming his knife and fork down on the table.

After spending the day squiring Lady Drake around the estate on horseback (which had taken ages longer than he anticipated, as Lady Drake kept insisting they ‘stop to enjoy the view’), Jamie had been eager to return to the house, take a glass of brandy to the study and simply sit in the quiet for a while before willing himself to go to yet another lengthy dinner.

Being with Lady Drake was, well, exhausting, he thought, shifting in his chair. Oh, she was uncommonly pretty and a natural rider without a doubt, but every word, every look she gave him seemed fraught with some hidden meaning.

Interpreting French battle strategies and secreting them to the English had been easier than trying to figure out that lady, he mused.

She seemed eager to find herself back in his good graces, and eager to form an attachment to him, reminding him often of all the “wonderful times” they had spent in London during the Season before he left for France.
When she was but a young lady newly a part of society, and he wasn’t yet a war-torn wreck.

But despite the intervening years, Jamie had an excellent memory, and could hardly recall more than a few dances they had shared, and hardly a meaningful conversation beyond the quality of the wine and the state of ladies fashions at some ball or another.

Hardly riveting.

She was a fine enough dance partner, but held no sway over his emotions.

Not like the angel at the other end of the table, who with one look, could probably reduce him to ash or lift him up to the heavens, depending on her mood.

He was fastidiously ignoring her end of the table that evening, and was grateful when the servants finally cleared the plates away, signaling the end of the meal.

Finally, an escape, he thought darkly.

As the gentlemen were making their way to the study to sit and chat, the ladies rose as one and began to move towards the parlor. Jamie quickly walked through the dining hall towards them, noting that Madeline was the last through the door. He placed a light hand on her shoulder to stop her, and she jumped, as though she’d been burned by his touch.

“Lady Winchester,” he said softly, and she turned quickly to face him, her face impassive. “Might I have a word with you?”

“Lord Carrington,” she said formally, bobbing a curtsy. “Thank you for a lovely meal.”

“I wanted to apologize that we have not had more time to catch up today,” he said, his eyes on hers.

“Yes, I thought you’d quite forgotten your old friends,” Maddy said with a small, teasing grin. “Apparently we aren’t riveting enough company, my lord.”

“It’s hardly that,” Jamie said, embarrassed by her pointing out his ignorance of her during her stay. “I long to catch up with old friends much more than making new ones. As such, I wanted to inquire if you were interested in going for a ride tomorrow. With me. Obviously.”

She watched him for a long moment, considering. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather ride with Lady Drake? She appears to be an accomplished horsewoman. I’m sure you had a lovely ride today, did you not?”

He stared at her, and then cleared his throat. “She is an accomplished horsewoman, it’s true. But her conversation grates on me, and I feel as though she is sizing me up like a cook eyeing a side of beef, deciding on a recipe.”

Madeline bit the inside of her cheeks to keep from smiling and smoothed her features, willing herself not to laugh. “I’m sorry to hear that, my lord. I thought all men of society enjoyed being so pursued and… sized up.”

“It depends on who is doing the pursuing and sizing,” he shot back and she laughed softly.

Her laugh sounded like rain on the rooftops, that tinkling sound he loved and hadn’t heard since they returned to Rotherham.

“I see.” Maddy said after a moment. “And here I thought she was an old friend as well. At least to hear her tell it, you had quite a time together before you left for France.”

“I believe the lady is making a mountain out of a molehill of a few dances at a few balls,” Jamie explained, sudden self conscious by his association with Lady Drake. “We are acquainted, it’s true, but we are hardly close friends.”

“I see,” Maddy repeated, watching him carefully.

“Truly.” Jamie’s voice was low, plaintive, willing her to understand that Lady Drake was nothing in his eyes – nothing like Madeline was.

“I’d very much like to see the estate with you, my lord, and will do my best not to eye your… prize parts as though for a stew,” Maddy said after a long pause, finally pulling her gaze from his, though he noted a definite twinkle in them at her words.

And with that, she turned and fled, her giggle echoing in the hall.

With a wide grin, Jamie turned on his heel and sauntered to his study, ready for a fortifying brandy and to muse on the cheeky comment of Lady Madeline Winchester.

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