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prefer to help myself.’ She moved away from Hallam, but he followed her, looking puzzled. Madeline felt compelled to explain. ‘Please...my husband watches everything I do. You must not pay me any attention.’
    ‘How ridiculous,’ Hallam said, frowning. ‘What harm can there be in a few words exchanged at a wedding?’
    ‘Please, leave me,’ Madeline said. ‘I beg you, do not continue with this...’
    She moved away, putting tasty morsels on her plate without seeing what she was choosing. Hallam did not follow her and she found a place at a table with several other ladies, who were laughing and eating, clearly enjoying themselves. Madeline bit into a tart, but found it difficult to swallow the soft flaky pastry, which at any other time would have been delightful. What little appetite she’d had had quite vanished.
    She sat silently, listening to the conversation flow around her, and sipping her wine now and then when the toasts were made, but her throat was tight with misery and her smile felt frozen. When Hallam called everyone to attention and began his speech as the groom’s best man, she could no longer bear it and excused herself, saying that she needed a little air, then got up and walked from the room.
    She was aware that her progress was remarked and knew it was rude of her to leave during Hallam’s speech, but could not bear to stay another moment, for if she did not escape she would weep. She left the house through a side door and went out into the garden. She needed to be alone for a time, because she was so desperately unhappy. Seeing Hallam, speaking to him, had brought home her misery and she had rebuffed him more out of fear of giving into her tears than for fear of her husband. After all, what more could he do to her?
    Walking swiftly, Madeline sought out a secret arbour amongst the roses and sat down, staring unseeingly at the beauty all around her. Her eyes filled with tears, which began to spill over as she realised how very much she had lost. She ought to have been braver, to have stood up to her father’s blandishments, and refused to marry the count. Yet if she had chosen happiness for herself, her family must have faced ruin. It was all too late. Regrets would not help her now.
    She bowed her head, covering her face with her hands. How Hallam must hate her now—and she loved him still.
    * * *
    Hallam was feeling angry. He had meant to offer Madeline the courtesy any gentleman would offer a lady and she had rebuffed him in the coldest manner—and then she had left the room while he was making his speech. Had she meant to be deliberately rude? Yet she’d seemed agitated, even frightened. What had she said about her husband watching her every move?
    Did Lethbridge mistreat his wife? Anger curled inside Hallam at the thought and he balled his fists at his sides. There was little he could do for the moment, because he did not wish to cause a scandal at his cousin’s wedding, but if he knew Maddie was being bullied or actually harmed he would kill Lethbridge with his bare hands!
    Hearing the count laugh at something a rather grand lady was saying to him, Hallam knew that he could not bear to be in the same room with him. He must go out for a breath of air or he might explode. His hands itched to land a facer on the vile fellow and he turned away, walking swiftly from the room and out into the gardens.
    He had been wandering for some minutes, his mind seething with anger and bitterness as he tried to come to terms with the tormented feelings inside him, when he heard the sound of a woman crying. Following the sound, he saw her sitting alone in a secluded rose arbour and his heart caught with pain.
    ‘Maddie,’ he said and walked swiftly to her side. ‘Please, you must tell me what is wrong. Does that devil hurt you? I swear I’ll kill him if he has harmed you.’
    Madeline had risen to her feet at his approach. She looked about her anxiously, as if fearing that someone might see them. Her