Page 60 of A Gamble with the Rakish Duke
Ellen’s hands were trembling. She did not know the extent of her mistress’s concerns, but she knew that the Duchess had been sending letters to someone and had been receiving notes from strange men.
A week and two days.
That was the precise period of peace Alexandra had before she received another letter from her father. She was not even given a fortnight of bliss with her husband, but she was still grateful for the time no matter how short. Guilt still came over her when she thought of her original mission to pay off her father’s debts.
When would she finally be free of him?
When would she finally be able to truly live her life?
Even her music had to be sold under a man’s name. The transactions had to be done through yet another man, and she owed her title to another. The latter did not feel as restrictive as it used to, but still.
You have a fortnight to collect all the money I’ll need to pay off my debts. Know that I am aware of the secrets you’re both keeping. You also know what happens when such delicate secrets are spilled to the ton. Beware.
Her father had decided to send her this warning not long after the break of dawn. It was unsettling that it might have been the first thing he thought of when he woke up, or perhaps he had not even left Devil’s Draw yet. He was probably addled by drink, and yet he still found the mental fortitude—or insanity, whatever the case may be—to write her this note.
When Alexandra admitted to Oliver that she was J. Lewis, she thought it would be the end of her problems—at least for a moment. She knew that with her father in the picture, that would never be the case.
Alexandra had not explained the contents of the letters she had received, but she knew that Ellen had noticed the shift between her and Oliver. There was more affection, for example. Whatever they had might be better than mosttonmarriages.
At least, that was what she told herself. What she felt.
“A man in a hooded cloak. He was almost the Duke’s height but broader,” Ellen explained, wringing her hands.
“Hmm. And he just shoved the letter at you?” Alexandra asked in a calm voice, her arms hanging at her sides. In her right hand was a small leather book, and her fingers tightened around it.
“Yes, Your Grace. He was rough about it, too. Shoved me so hard that I almost fell,” Ellen said, still visibly shaken.
Alexandra could not blame her. They had stayed in the country for a long time. They did not have these types of concerns. All they had to concern themselves with every day was what activity to add to the gardening and what meals to plan to take full advantage of the farm.
“I’m sorry you went through that. It means that I must run errands again from now on,” Alexandra said, feeling resolute.
“Errands, Your Grace?” Ellen echoed, concern written all over her face.
Alexandra thought of all the reasons she shouldn’t be out there. Her promise to Oliver. Scandal. Gossip. Especially now that thetonknew her well. She was no longer the wife that was hidden in the country.
However, this final piece was too important to entrust to someone else.
Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad now that her husband knew about her identity, and how she needed someone to sell hercompositions. They did promise that there would be no more secrets between them.
However, she felt that if she talked to her husband about her father’s threats, he would take it upon himself to solve her problem. What could he possibly do? Threaten her father back? Sue him?
Would he have a physical altercation with the blackmailer? Pay off his debts?
None of these possibilities sounded great to Alexandra. She must do something, once and for all. Her latest piece could fetch a good price, and maybe after selling a couple of her jewels, she would be done with it. Hopefully, she could then distance herself from her father.
“Yes. Errands. Get me my cloak, Ellen. I need to make a run before the Duke comes back,” Alexandra ordered, not thinking her decision through.
She didn’t care what her maid thought at that point. She only wanted to get enough money to pay off her father’s debts. She couldn’t live like this forever.
Then, she recalled what her husband said after realizing that John Prescott was involved in selling her compositions.
“I understand why you did it, but I don’t want you dealing with Prescott alone again,” he had said gravely.
“Are you afraid for our reputation?” was her cheeky response, which earned her raised eyebrows and a deep frown.
“It’s not about our reputation, and you know it, Alexandra. If we are going to work toward a better future together, we need to establish trust. I know you can’t trust the man who married you off to a stranger. But now, I believe we can work together as partners. We are in this together.”
She had agreed. Then, they kissed and spent many hours in bed.
