'No' going to ridicule anythin'.'
She exhaled, then admitted, 'I think my father…found my mother in bed with another man.'
'Why would you think that?' he asked in a measured tone.
'Because it became apparent that my normally passive father had…struck my mother over the night.' Maddy could well remember her mother's glaring blackened eye, and how her father hadn't been able to bear looking at his once beloved wife.
'That does no' mean—'
'He'd come home early from a business trip that very night. And honestly, knowing my mother, I would be shocked if she hadn't committed adultery regularly during their marriage. She was a weak, selfish woman, and my father was a good deal older than she was.'
'I see.' Ethan was tense, his body stiff as a plank. She studied him, wondering if he was disgusted—or dreading what she might say next.
'At one point that day, my father absently patted my head and said, 'Maddy girl, Papa's made some mistakes.' Then he wandered off aimlessly. He was never the same. It was like I'd never known either of them.'
'After that night, what happened?'
She noticed Ethan's jaw was clenching and said, 'I don't know if I should be telling you this.'
'I need to hear it, Madeleine.'
'But it doesn't—' She broke off under his hard stare and murmured, 'Very well.'
Ethan knew the events—had orchestrated them—and now, in a low haunted tone, she supplied the aftermath.
'Half a year after that night, my father died, and the creditors descended upon us. My mother and I came home from my father's funeral and were turned away from Iveley Hall—that's the name of my childhood home—in a violent storm. I was so frightened. Especially since my mother was completely unprepared to care for me. I remember asking her once, 'Are we going to find a place to live soon?' Instead of answering, 'Of course. We'll have a spot of luck any day now,' my mother snapped, 'I only know what you know, Madeleine. So what do you think? Tell me.''
A place to live…
As Madeleine recounted the harrowing trials of an eleven-year-old girl forced away from everything she had ever known, Ethan felt tears on his chest. He learned how painful it had been to be turned away from her home, from all the possessions that a young girl would believe she couldn't live without—her dolls, her dresses, her beloved pets…
…how terrifying and sordid La Marais had been when she'd first seen it.
And he'd learned that Madeleine knew nearly enough to put everything together. She was keenly perceptive, and obviously had been an observant child. Already she suspected another man had been in her home.
How long would it be before she uncovered enough to determine it was Ethan?
When she'd finally fallen asleep, curled up and clutching her ring on the ribbon, he stared down at her, unable to stop himself from petting her soft hair.
After tonight, he understood far more about the depth of her courage and indomitable spirit. Those traits in her made the failings in Ethan's own character all the more obvious.
That recognition was painful and unwanted.
Most people assumed bad men didn't try to better themselves because they couldn't be bothered to make the effort or because they didn't know how to make the right choices. Few supposed it had nothing to do with the future and everything to do with the past. Recalling black deeds with a different perspective was hellish.
Ten years ago—when he'd been older than she was right now—he'd pitied himself, swilling liquor, behaving cruelly, and he'd been punished. Madeleine had done nothing but show strength of character and a will that humbled him, yet she'd been punished, too, for her parents' mistakes.
Punished by Ethan. He often imagined how he might begin to explain that to her:
'I was drunk one night and decided to tup, well, Sylvie, your mother. She cried rape to your father—a weak- willed cuckold who was easily swayed and kept henchmen on hand to do foul tasks. Brymer cut off half my face, so later I gutted him. After I bankrupted your father, no doubt pushing him closer to his suicide, I seized your home and assets, turning you and your mother out into the streets.'
If she hadn't run screaming by then, he could finish, 'Then Sylvie took you, at the tender age of eleven, to hell, and I knew about it. I let it happen when I could have spared you. And if all that wasn't bad enough, I ruined your engagement with the count and came to Paris specifically to deceive and use you.'
What if she's the one…?Hugh had asked. Ethan gave a bitter laugh.
What Hugh didn't understand was that her being 'the one' or not was incidental. The curse being false or not had no bearing. Ethan could never have Madeleine because the damage had already been done, and ultimately she would hate him.
Whatever he was experiencing with her would end.Common bloody sense….
Just as before, Ethan's die had already been cast.
Chapter Thirty-one
'This is alesser residence ?' Making a credible attempt at keeping her jaw from dropping, Maddy gazed out the coach window at the oceanfront mansion they neared.
'Aye. It's called Carillon, named after the series of bells in the village,' MacCarrick said as they rolled along the long gravel drive. 'And yes, it's less grand and more obscure than my other estates.'
She swallowed and nodded. 'Of course.'
The stately manor house was built in large ashlar blocks, like castles usually were, but these were dark cream-colored and smooth. Along the drive, they passed terraced gardens, walled gardens, wild gardens. Grass pathways and crystal-clear streams wended through the property.
'It's very beautiful,' she said absently, butbeautiful couldn't adequately describe this place. When she saw a peacock strutting across a green lawn, she realized Carillon was like a fairy tale. 'That's a…peacock.'
'My grandmother was eccentric, and she brought them here. They're nearly wild now.'
'Is that apalm tree?'
'Aye. The water that travels the Irish Sea is warm, making it temperate here. It rarely snows or freezes.'
This place was to be partly hers? 'I don't think I've ever seen such a splendid home.'
'The steward's let it fall into a sad state of neglect.'
'How can you tell?'
'At this time of year there should be hay rolls and autumn crops planted over the back fields we passed earlier. There were neither. I see the paint is chipping on the trim of the manor and the stables, and the fences need mending throughout. The fountains are no' running—since I'd wired the staff of my coming arrival, that means they're likely broken. I doona keep estates in this condition—ever.'
'I don't think it looks that bad,' she said, trying to lighten his mood.
He gazed out the window. 'You would no'.'
'What's that supposed to mean?'
'Would anything no' seem palatial next to La Marais?'
Though she'd been thinking the same thing, she was growing tired of his jabs. Since they'd made port, he'd grown cold again—worse than he'd ever been.Honey, not vinegar, she reminded herself.
Yet she was on the last of her stores. 'And here I thought we'd go a day without you reminding me where you plucked me from.'
'I was only making a point,' he said, but their row was delayed when the coach rolled to a stop in front of the manor. 'Speak of the devil,' Ethan grated when they found a middle-aged man and woman awaiting them. 'Silas the steward.'
When MacCarrick helped Maddy down, he ignored the man and said, 'Madeleine, this is Sorcha, Carillon's
