Page 17 of A Gamble with the Rakish Duke
“Thank you, John.”
“You are welcome, Your Grace.”
The sadness in his voice made it clear to her that while he admired her work, he also pitied her.
Alexandra slipped out of the lodgings, her heart thundering with apprehension.
The sun was completely up, its bright rays illuminating even the narrow alley she had to walk out of to the marketplace. Onesmall tug on her cloak and someone would see her face and expensive dress.
Not many people might know her now, but Oliver had plans to introduce her to other members of theton. They could still associate her with the mad chit who slipped into a man’s lodgings at dawn without an escort.
Once in the marketplace, her heart sank when she did not see the carriage. Where was it? Where was the coachman?
Her temples throbbed as she paced back and forth until she spotted the carriage down the street. Ted must have moved it away to accommodate the tradesmen setting up their stalls.
She inhaled the cold air as she climbed into the comfort and safety of the carriage.
“Are you all right, Your Grace?” Ted asked.
“I am fine, simply tired,” was her brief reply.
The coachman sounded concerned. For her. For himself.
Whatever happened to her, Ted would be implicated, too. As Ellen would be. It was not just a risk to herself, Alexandra realized, and she wondered why she still cared about her father. He did not care about her. She could simply leave London and retire to the countryside, and let her husband live a bachelor’s life.
She was not going to be selfish. After all, it was merely an arrangement. They were married in name only. There was nothing else between them.
“His Grace has arrived, Your Grace,” Ted announced solemnly as they approached the townhouse.
True enough, Oliver’s carriage was already there.
Wild-eyed, Alexandra attempted to come up with an excuse for her absence.
“I bought some pastries and bread, Your Grace. They are in the basket to your left, the one covered with the red cloth,” Ted suddenly said.
Alexandra heaved a sigh of relief, grateful for the man’s quick thinking. She knew that her husband was a rake and a pugilist, but he was also an intelligent man.
“Thank you, Ted. But you must know that I did not betray your master.”
She felt the need to clarify that. No matter how fair she thought it would be for Oliver to find solace in someone else’s arms, she could not imagine seeking another man even though she was not married for love. It went against her beliefs. Her father was already dishonorable enough for both of them.
“I know, Your Grace,” Ted reassured her. “If I may speak boldly, though, people will not care about the truth. They want a scandal,”
She nodded at that, taking the basket with her as she alighted from the carriage. She took shaky breaths, hoping Oliver would not notice her nervousness, but she was not given enough time to compose herself.
Just as she raised her hand to knock on the door, it swung open.
“Ah, Duchess. There you are.” Oliver narrowed his eyes at her, his head tilted to the left.
Alexandra swallowed as she prepared to give an excuse. For she could not tell him the truth.
Chapter Seven
“Ibought some bread and a few other things,” Alexandra blurted, looking flustered.
Oliver thought there was something between himself and his wife. Maybe it was respect or physical attraction, but there was something there—intangible but definite. However, seeing her arriving home early in the morning, looking disheveled, made him wonder if he was fooling himself. They were not even friends.
They were strangers whose lives had collided because of a gambling debt.
