Page 14 of To Tame a Wicked Widow

Her stomach churning, Madeline stared at her untouched bowl of tomato soup. She’d thought she could eat a six-course banquet and demand more after the afternoon’s glorious excesses in Ethan’s carriage, but now her appetite had thoroughly deserted her.

How could he be so cool and remote? So very precise and proper? This couldn’t be the man who mere hours ago had spanked her behind until it burned, tormented her to incoherent madness with a dildo, tongue, and fingers, then made her come so hard—twice— that she’d almost fainted. Yes, she had sensed tension in him before he took her, but when he’d tenderly cupped her cheek…

She had yearned.

To be Lady Dare. To spend every night in his arms being pleasured and pleasuring in return. To spend their days reading and discussing and traveling, exploring and learning each other even as they explored and learned foreign lands. To give him sons and daughters that they would love and care for together. To be different from Sir Josiah’s ilk and oversee their lands and tenants with consideration, practicality, and a modern-thinking eye.

Oh, how she’d yearned.

Yet now Ethan was treating her as though she were a vague acquaintance to be tolerated. And his family—and hers for that matter—were following his lead.

“For heaven’s sake, Madeline,” said Penelope with a haughty sniff. “Stop playing with your soup and eat it. You aren’t a toddler in the nursery.”

She gritted her teeth. Imagining her sister-in-law wearing the soup tureen offered some comfort. “You’re right, I’m not. And while you are residing under my roof, you may keep your opinions on my dining habits to yourself.”

“Well! Such rudeness in front of his lordship.”

“This shouldn’t be your roof,” added Faith sourly. “I can’t even imagine the depravity that has occurred here since the passing of dear Josiah, God rest him.”

Madeline tilted her head and smiled. “I’m sure you can’t. But it’s never too late to learn, dear. You could find some lovers…a strapping man, or woman, if that is your preference, and spend a few years making up for lost time.”

Faith choked on a mouthful of soup. Winifred pounded her on the back, and a shining arc of red soared across the oak dining table to decorate the vicar’s pristine collar. The man jerked up his hands in dismay and managed to punch Mark squarely in the nose. Penelope, as she so often did, screeched and flailed her hands in horror.

It really was the most excellent pandemonium, until Ethan deliberately cleared his throat and everyone fell silent. “I have an announcement to make. I will be travelling to London in the morning to attend to certain matters—”

“Beg pardon?” said Madeline hoarsely, as an invisible arrow plunged into her heart and tore it open. He could truly just up and leave?

Ethan’s amber gaze iced over. “You didn’t allow me to finish, Lady Upcott. These are estate matters, including your jointure property, so I ask that you accompany me to the city also.”

“I knew it,” bellowed Mark, his voice only partially muffled by the handkerchief stemming the blood flow from his nose. “Pockets to let. Such a shame when young lords let everything fall to rack and ruin. You’d better go, Madeline, and while you are there find yourself a wealthy husband. Otherwise, we’ll all be out on the streets.”

“I daresay there’ll be plenty of suitable potential spouses for your sister.”

Madeline winced at the harsh confirmation their liaison had well and truly ended. A cloak of numbness settled around her, but she needed to leave this room before she shattered into a thousand pieces.

“Very well,” she said woodenly, rising to her feet. “I shall go and advise the housekeeper. And begin preparations to depart. Excuse me.”

Murmurings sounded behind her, and she could practically feel several triumphant, malicious gazes boring into the back of her head. Oh, how they reveled in her misery. And if there was an issue with the jointure property income that Ethan couldn’t mend, then it only strengthened the argument for her to marry again. This evening had been unpleasant enough. But being forced to retreat when her backside and pussy still ached from his skillful attentions…

Hot tears burned her eyes, yet she kept her shoulders straight and head high for the entire time she spoke to the housekeeper, and managed to make it to her chamber and sink onto her bed before the drops began to spill down her cheeks.

Damn him. And damn her for being so foolish as to let her heart get involved when it should have been no more than one uncomplicated night.

“Madeline.”

She didn’t turn toward the connecting door, instead quickly dabbed at her eyes. “Was there something you needed, Lord Dare?”

“I should have told you before everyone else.”

A short laugh escaped. “Do not trouble yourself. I’m well aware where I stand now. Actually, I am looking forward to London. Apart from legal matters, it will be lovely to revisit some old…acquaintances. And make new friends, of course. Such variety. For you as well, no doubt, now you are competent in the bedchamber.”

Something snapped, and Madeline glanced over her shoulder in surprise to see Ethan holding a piece of broken walking cane in each hand, his expression nothing short of thunderous.

“You’ll be far too busy,” he snarled, hurling the pieces onto the floor. “Finding that wealthy fucking husband.”

He was angry? What bloody reason did he have?

“Oh, that too,” she purred, her own temper rising as she got to her feet and walked toward him. “By the by, thanks to you, I now know my pussy can take far more in a day than I previously believed. Not to mention how much I enjoy spanking and toys. I’m sure my future spouse will be appreciative.”