Wicked in the Regency Ballroom: The Wicked Earl / Untouched Mistress

‘I must confess, Lord Farquharson, that such an action seems most out of character for Madeline,’ said Mr Langley wringing his hands. He turned to the tall dark-haired man standing by the drawing-room fireplace. ‘You have shown us the marriage certificate, my lord, which does indeed appear to prove that you are now legally married to my daughter, but how do we know that Madeline consented to wed you? She is … she was betrothed to Lord Farquharson. To my knowledge she is not even acquainted with you.’

‘Then your knowledge is wrong, sir,’ said Lucien succinctly. He had no argument with Arthur Langley. The man was only doing what he thought right to protect his daughter. Lucien wondered that Langley ever could have agreed to marry Madeline to that snake in the first place. But then again, Langley wouldn’t have stood a chance against Farquharson.

‘He bloody well abducted her!’ snarled Farquharson. ‘Everyone knows of his reputation. He’s downright evil.’

‘Lord Farquharson,’ said Mr Langley, ‘I understand your distress, but rest assured that it does not measure in comparison with the extent of mine. We are all gentlemen here, I hope, and as such we should try to keep our language accordingly.’

‘Please excuse my slip, Mr Langley,’ said Farquharson from between stiffened lips.

Lucien looked at Arthur Langley. ‘The matter is easily enough resolved, sir. Call back tomorrow and speak with Madeline yourself. She will soon set your mind at ease.’

‘No!’ Farquharson moved to stand between the seated figure of Mr Langley and the tall, broad frame of Tregellas. ‘He seeks to buy time in which to consummate the marriage. Let him bring her out to face us now, before he has had time to intimidate her. By tomorrow the poor child will be so distraught she won’t know what she’s saying.’

‘Madeline is resting. It would be unfair to subject her to such scrutiny.’ Lucien’s teeth gritted with the rage that roared within him. That Farquharson had the audacity to accuse anyone else of the heinous crimes for which he himself was responsible!

Farquharson turned to plead his case with Mr Langley, dropping his voice to a more controlled volume. ‘Please, Mr Langley, I beg of you,’ he wheedled. ‘Do not subject Madeline to rape at this man’s hands. Look at his state of undress. He was readying himself for the task.’ He stared down into the older man’s eyes that were heavy with fatigue and worry. ‘We’ve arrived in the nick of time,’ he said convincingly. ‘There’s still time. Demand that he bring her out now. If she was party to this crime, as he claims, then why is he disinclined to do so?’

‘Lord Farquharson has a point,’ said Arthur Langley slowly. ‘I find myself unwilling to accept your word alone, sir. I cannot rest contented without seeing my daughter. Let me hear the words from her own lips and only then will I believe it.’ His skin was washed an unhealthy grey and the skin beneath his eyes hung in heavy pouches.

Lucien rang the bell, whispered a word in the suddenly appeared butler’s ear, and straightened. ‘As you wish, Mr Langley.’

Farquharson glanced at Mr Langley’s profile, then glared across the room at Lucien. ‘If you’ve so much as harmed one hair on my betrothed’s head …’

Ice-blue eyes locked with smoky grey. ‘Madeline’s my wife now, Farquharson.’

The tension in the room magnified one hundredfold. The challenge in Lucien’s voice was as blatant as a slap on the face.

Arthur Langley stared from one man to the other.

A soft tapping sounded and the door swung open to reveal Madeline.

Lucien’s heart turned over at the sight of her: small and slender, his dressing gown covering from her shoulders to her toes and beyond. Eyes the colour of warm aged honey sparkled in the candlelight and lips parted in expectation. Her dark blonde hair was mussed and beddy, its long tresses sweeping sensuously down to her waist. From the hint of a blush that sat across her cheeks to the little bare toes that peeped from beneath the edge of his robe, Madeline had the look of a woman who had just been loved. Lucien found the words emptied from his head, every last rehearsed phrase fled. He stared at her as if seeing her for the first time, wondering that this woman could be his wife.

‘Lucien,’ she said softly and moved to stand by his side.

‘Good God!’ Mr Langley uttered weakly.

Farquharson stared, eyes bulging, panting like an enraged bull.

‘You see, Lord Farquharson,’ said Lucien, ‘Madeline is my wife in every sense of the word, and completely by her own volition.’

The drop of a pin would have shattered against the silence that followed his words.

‘Madeline?’ Mr Langley staggered to his feet. ‘Is what he says true? Did you willingly elope with Lord Tregellas?’ The brown eyes widened, scanning every inch of his daughter’s face.

‘Yes, Papa,’ she said in a quiet voice. ‘I’m sorry. I did not mean to hurt you, or Mama, or Angelina.’

Farquharson’s lips curled to reveal his small white teeth. ‘He is forcing her to this. The poor child is scared for her life!’

‘I assure you that is not the case. Madeline has nothing to fear from me.’ The emphasis on Lucien’s last word did not go unnoticed.

Mr Langley slowly shook his head, his eyes crinkling into closure, his shoulders rounding as if the burden upon them had suddenly become too much to bear. ‘Madeline, how could you? I thought that I knew my own daughter, but it seems that I’m wrong.’

‘No, Papa …’ Madeline made a brief move towards her father, only to find Lucien’s hand upon her arm.

Farquharson saw his chance. ‘See how he controls her! He’s trying to trick us!’

Mr Langley’s eyes slowly opened.

‘There has been insufficient time for him to have wedded and bedded her!’ Farquharson said crudely. ‘For all of the rumours, Tregellas is only a man, like any other. He would have to be superhuman to have had her in that time!’

‘Lord Farquharson, must you be so blunt?’ complained Mr Langley, but there was a light of revived hope in his eyes.

‘Madeline, my dove, you must tell us the truth,’ said Farquharson, edging closer towards Madeline. ‘We will not be angry with you.’ His eyes opened wide in an encouraging manner.

Lucien stepped forward, forming a barrier between Madeline and the two men. ‘Are you calling me a liar?’ he asked in a quiet voice that could not hide the threat beneath.

Farquharson’s eyes narrowed, exaggerating the fox-like character of his features. His mouth opened to speak—

‘Lucien speaks the truth.’ Madeline shifted to stand by her husband’s side before Lucien knew what she planned. He felt her small hand slip into his. ‘I married him because I love him. And for that same reason I lay with him in the bed upstairs. He is my husband in truth; that fact cannot be undone, for all that both of you would wish it.’

Lucien’s heart swelled. He felt the faint tremble of her hand and knew what it cost her to say those words. His fingers squeezed gently against hers, his gaze dropping to the courageous stance of her slight frame.

‘I’m sorry, Papa. I hope that you may come to forgive me.’

Farquharson’s fury would be leashed no longer. ‘And what of me, Madeline? Where are your pretty words of apology for me?’ His anger exploded across the room. ‘Or don’t I count? Doesn’t it matter that you have just publicly humiliated me?’

‘Lord Farquharson, please!’ Mr Langley exclaimed.

‘I gave you my heart, Madeline, and this is how you repay me. It would have been kinder to decline me at the start.’

‘I tried to tell—’

But Farquharson was in full rant. ‘But no. You encouraged me, led me to believe that you would welcome my addresses. And now you run to Tregellas because you think to catch yourself an earl rather than an honest humble baron. There’s a name for women like you!’

‘Farquharson!’ The word was little more than a growl from Lucien’s mouth. ‘Don’t dare speak to my wife in—’

Farquharson continued unabated. ‘He only wants you because you were mine. He’s an evil, jealous, conniving bastard, and believe me when I say that—’

Lucien struck like a viper, his fist contacting Farquharson square on the chin.

Farquharson staggered back, reeling from the shock, his hand clutching at his jaw.

‘Now get the hell out of my house,’ said Lucien.

Farquharson drew his hand away and looked at the blood that speckled his fingers. ‘Don’t think you’ll get away with this, Tregellas. You’ve gone too far this time.’

‘Impugned your honour?’ suggested Lucien. ‘What do you mean to do about it?’