Alcott Hall: Second Sons Book Three

“Please, oh please,” Madeline murmured, knocking on the door again.

She had to be stark raving mad. Only madness would explain why she snuck downstairs in the dark of the night and slipped out the same window James thrust her out of all those days ago.

Only madness explained why she would hike nearly a mile through the snow in the dark to find this little cabin in the woods. Only madness explained what she hoped to achieve this night.

The door jerked open and then she was looking up into Warren’s surprised face. “Madeline, what—”

“Please, let me in,” she panted. “Please, John.”

He swung the door open, reaching out an arm to scoop her inside. She buried herself against his chest, pressing her face into the rough fabric of his shirt, taking a deep inhale. Almost at once, the madness that drove her to such a reckless act seemed to subside, eased by the overwhelming presence of John Warren.

“Madeline? What the hell is going on?”

She turned her face to see Charles standing near the hearth.

“Oh, thank god,” she murmured, grateful beyond measure that he was also here.

“Did you walk here all on your own?” he called.

“Without a light,” Warren growled, his arms still banded around her at shoulders and waist. “You could have fallen in a ditch—”

“Or twisted another damn ankle,” added Charles.

Warren pulled back, both his large hands on her shoulders. “How did you even get out of the house?”

She flashed a sheepish smile, focusing on the open point of his shirt that exposed a soft thatch of dark chest hair. “I…climbed out the window.”

“Goddamn it,” he muttered, locking his elbows in place.

As if that was going to stop her from taking what she wanted. Her smile widened.

“What are you doing here, Madeline?” Charles pressed.

Heart in her throat, she glanced from Charles to Warren. “I cannot wait any longer. I’ve lived in fear every day that a constable will return, or my father himself will appear and carry me off. My freedom is so close at hand, I can taste it. This waiting, this not knowing, it is driving me mad,” she said, pausing to take a gasping breath. “So, I came here to…I came to be with you. I want to…be with you. Both of you,” she added. “You want a full marriage, Charles. That’s what you said.”

He groaned. “Madeline, I didn’t mean—”

Unbuckling the clasp of her cloak, she let it fall to the floor, revealing that she wore nothing but her dressing robe and chemise.

“Shit,” Warren muttered, dropping his hands, and stepping away.

As soon as he let go of her, she pulled loose the knot of her dressing robe, shedding that too. “Someone left these in my room last night.” She held up a pair of thin paper sachets. “I think they meant for me to use them. I took it as a sign…perhaps not from your god, Charles, for he teaches the virtues of chastity.”

Both Warren and Charles’s eyes narrowed as they tried to identify the items.

“The note says they’re called ‘French letters,’” she added. “They allow for the marital act to be performed without the risk of children. Do you know how to use them?”

Charles all but whimpered as he looked to Warren. “John, I—”

“Yes,” Warren replied, his tone calm and even.

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.” Not waiting another second, she tugged on the tie at the front of her chemise. Loosening it, she let it drop to the floor, revealing her nakedness. “Then show me.”