Page 23 of The Captain Claims His Temptress

“On it,” Calhoun mouthed to Stephen. He bowed and left Stephen alone with the three women.

“I do hope they are long gone by now.” Lady Saxton sighed. “Let us discuss something more genial. Sylvia and Arabella, I would like to introduce you to my niece. She has traveled from New York and plans to make England her new home. I am sure she would love to have a companion, Arabella.”

What was Lady Saxton thinking? Arabella would devour the American in mere seconds.

Moments later, Madalene Spencer stood amongst them, her powerful presence making her a rose among thorns. She greeted the Beaumonts, who both wore insincere smiles. Then she smiled at Stephen. “I hope you had a delightful afternoon, Captain Eaton.”

To hell and the devil. That seductive voice.

On second thought, Arabella Beaumont’s manipulative machinations were like child’s play next to the spells the enchantress Madalene Spencer wove.

Blimey hell. He was bewitched.

Chapter ten

October 4th, 1817

MissArabellaBeaumontwaslong, lean, and as graceful as a willow blowing in the breeze. Maddie rarely felt self-conscious about her feminine curves. But, piffle, why did she have to love biscuits so much? Arabella Beaumont probably never ate pastries.

With squared shoulders and a lifted chin, Arabella inserted herself between Maddie and the captain in an aggressively possessive stance. Not that it mattered since the man refused to meet Maddie’s gaze.

She should have known there would be other women in Stephen Eaton’s life. Maybe even a fiancée? Although she hadn’t known him for long, their connection had been magical, leaving her heart a mangled, weeping wound.

Maddie forced a convivial smile.

“What made you decide to leave New York?” Lady Beaumont’s high-pitched voice was akin to having a razor slice one’s ear drums, and her tone contained thorns.

Maddie recognized the malicious gleam in the viscountess’ eyes since she had encountered it many times in New York society. These seemingly passive ambushes twisted innocent answers into salacious gossip.

Her best defense was her positive outlook. “My mother is from England and often talks of how much she misses her country. I have always wanted to explore the rocky coasts, ride a horse over the dales, and see the gardens.” Since her aunt’s countenance held the only warmth in their quintuplet, she met her gaze and found the courage to continue. “The gardens at Herald Hall are worth the many weeks at sea.”

Aunt Henrietta squeezed her hand. “Madalene’s husband passed, and she was living alone in the city. I asked her uncle if she could visit, and he was quite enthusiastic about the prospect. Luckily, I convinced her to stay in St. Alban indefinitely. ’Tis as if I finally have a daughter.”

“News of Mr. Spencer’s unfortunate passing reached us at Wayside House.” Lady Beaumont raised an eyebrow, pinning Maddie in an unsettling glare.

Heavens, no. Had Lady Beaumont also heard stories aboutMadalene Spencer, the Black Widow?

“How did he die?” Lady Beaumont asked.

Enthusiasm hadn’t worked, so she’d try blunt honesty. “His heart gave out. My husband was my father’s friend, and they arranged our marriage. I spent the past six months in mourning. Meanwhile, unkind and untruthful rumors circulated, making life in New York unbearable. My aunt and uncle have been so generous and kind, that I feel alive again.”

At least the truth worked on Stephen Eaton. His stiff posture relaxed, and his emerald eyes softened, overflowing with compassion.

Arabella huffed. “Should you not still be wearing black? Or, are American customs as unrefined as they say?”

Well, that was uncalled for and terribly rude.

“New York must hold such dark memories. I suppose that is the real reason you are here,” Lady Beaumont said. “So that you no longer must mourn your husband. How fortunate that he left you so wealthy that you can simply move on with your life.”

All the softness left the captain’s countenance and his jaw clenched.

“Madalene was born into wealth,” Aunt Henrietta said. “She does not require a husband’s money.”

Maddie did not owe the Beaumonts an explanation of any kind. Still, she defended herself. “My husband left his share in the company to me, and I handed it over to my father so I would be free to start a new life.”

“You do not seem grief-stricken that your husband died,” Arabella said.

Arabella Beaumont’s words cut deep, forcing Maddie to face her shameful secret. What kind of odious woman did not feel pain over losing her husband?