CHAPTER 15

Madison picked up her brush, dipped it into her jar of powder and self consciously raised it to Rankin's face. She was nervous to touch him. This was a novel experience. She looked nervously at Rankin, he was grinning at her like a Cheshire cat. Using his grin for courage, she soldiered on. Wincing, she applied the brush over the bruises around his eye. Madison cast her eye to Beth busy at the closet pretending to fold the already folded clothes. She wished Beth would just sit on the bed quietly, she was rather distracting.

'How is that my lord?' Madison lifted her eyes to meet Rankin's in the mirror.

He angled his face to the left and to the right and nodded acceptably. 'Perfect,' Rankin stood up. 'I think I will be presentable dear,' Rankin lowered his head to meet hers, his eyes smiling down into Madison's.

'Yes,' she murmured, fiddling with her brush.

'I shall be eagerly awaiting you downstairs,' Rankin allowed his eyes a momentary glimpse down her bosom. Madison blushed, her face and ears turned scarlet. He chuckled softly at her discomfort. 'Thank you Lady Madison.' Rankin glimpsed disdainfully at the watchful Beth who was annoyingly fiddling with nothing at the closet and reluctantly he walked out. He would have loved to take Madison into his arms and loose himself in her bountiful décolletage for a few minutes. They did look ripe and delicious, begging for his lips. Perhaps he needed to visit the maid in her chamber and remind her of her place.

         Madison cast a cursory glance around her at the smartly dressed gentlemen and fashionably attired ladies as they stood in the lavishly decorated ballroom of Lord James Faversham, Marquis of Avon. The Avon's proud, rich history dated back eight hundred years. The Marquis's stately and picturesque home was a remarkable castle with rolling hills and pastoral landscapes, the abundant seasonal flora, a botanist's delight. The well maintained castle was indicative of skilful Roman architecture. It was widely known the Marquis of Avon was from one of the wealthiest families in England. The Avon's had flourishing lands, abundance of crops, cattle and poultry.

'You look delightfully arresting tonight my dear,' Rankin smiled at his betrothed.

'Thank you,' Madison's chocolate eyes met Rankin's emerald ones with a responding smile. She admired her handiwork around his eye. He did look so much better. One could hardly see the cruel bruises he had received from that nasty horse. She hoped her betrothed had made good work of breaking that vicious horse.

'Ah the newly betrothed couple.'

Madison broke away from Rankin's eyes. She watched as Rankin stiffened next to her. She had a suspicion why the owner of that voice made her shiver, but why had Rankin reacted so angrily?

'Rochester,' Rankin greeted guardedly. Rankin went to great lengths to be polite.

'Swain,' Chadwick acknowledged coldly. He abhorred the way Rankin pretended to gaze so adoringly into Lady Madison's eyes. 'Your face looks much better than I expected.' Chadwick's eyes seemed to gleam with pleasure.

Rankin visibly paled. His grip tightened around his glass. His knuckles were as white as a sheet. Madison could not understand Rankin's simmering anger, but Chadwick seemed to thrive on provoking Rankin's wrath. She was annoyed at Chadwick's insensitivity. How dare he be so impolite? Surely he should have more manners!

'There is no need for your gloating Mr. Rochester,' Madison came to Rankin's defence. 'My fiancé was brutally thrown off a horse.'

'Indeed?'

'Perhaps if you did a hard day's job Mr. Rochester, you would not find this something to jest about.' She did not know how exactly Chadwick Rochester earned his income, yet he seemed to be an extremely wealthy man. Perhaps he just barked orders around and others did the dirty and challenging work for him.

Chadwick's eyes darted to Rankin's. The weasel could not even speak for himself, Chadwick though disgustedly. How pathetic? Rankin's eyes shifted from Chadwick to Madison. A film of sweat formed on Rankin's upper lip. Chadwick could not stomach looking at Rankin any longer. He was likely to beat him black and blue all over again. If the stupid chit was too blind to see what scum she had chosen, so be it!

'Enjoy the evening Lady Madison. Swain,' Chadwick took his leave.

'He has a nerve. Does he not, my lord?'

'Some people do not know how to hold themselves in public?' Rankin spoke softly, his wintry glance followed Chadwick's receding broad shoulders.

'It was unfair of him to taunt you about your injury.'

'Shall we dance?' Rankin pulled Madison to the dance floor before she could respond with a yes or no.

Fuming at Chadwick's insensitivity, she allowed Rankin to lead her to the dance floor. As they circled the dance floor, Madison watched Chadwick dance with a beautiful young maiden who was having her first come out. The young lady was shy and smiled frequently as Chadwick continued to flirt with her throughout their dance. Madison hardly paid attention to her own dance partner. She automatically just moved to the rhythm of the music. It was only when Rankin suggested they stop for drinks did she realize they had danced two consecutive dances.

She cast an assessing glance around whilst they enjoyed their drinks. Chadwick was dancing with one lady after another. He seemed to favour the first young lady he danced with. At regular intervals, he returned to the young lady and danced with her more frequently. Madison wondered why she felt disappointment that Chadwick had not requested to dance with her. She did not know why she had so vocally gone to Rankin's defence, perhaps she should have remained silent, but then how could she allow Chadwick to be so insensitive towards an innocent man?

'So my lord, are you  also participating in that crazy jousting competition?' she looked up into Rankin's face.

'Oh absolutely. I am the defending champion you know,' he grinned self righteously.

'I did not know. I want you to win again my lord,' she breathed softly, as her eyes met Rankin's.

'I could prepare well if I know who all the competition is,' he favoured her with a patronising grin.

The Jousting Tournament was an annual event in Cricklewoods. Gentlemen dressed up as tenth century Knights. They displayed their horsemanship skills and their prowess with the use of a lance; a wooden rod with a sharp metal tip resembling a spear. Two opposing riders, protected by a steel helmet and armoured gear would ride towards each other. The aim was to remove your opponent off his horse using the lance. It was sometimes dangerous. Even with the armoured gear, horsemen were known to have encountered fatal injuries.

'Surely it would be all the previous year's competitors,' Madison stated. 'I know Lord Anthony is participating. I heard him telling Lady Sarah he was practising.'

Rankin's concern was whether Chadwick Rochester was participating. He had only won the previous year by devious means, and because Chadwick who had been away because of a family crisis had not participated. Before last year, Chadwick had won the previous three successive years prior to that.

'I would like you to find out if Rochester is an entrant,' Rankin instructed Madison.

'How am I to achieve that my lord?' She wondered what difference it make if Chadwick participated. He was the defending champion surely he had nothing to worry about.