Page 64 of A Gamble with the Rakish Duke
“Y-Yes, Your G-Grace.”
“Where did you send those letters?”
“I sent them to a man living near the marketplace. His lodgings have a nameplate in front that saysJohn Prescott, Professor of Music.”
Oliver started seeing red, but he didn’t want to lose control in front of the maid. So, he took a long, deep breath as he pulled at his hair. The slight pain somehow gave him some clarity—what little was left of it.
“If she comes home before me, tell her that I am headed for Prescott.”
Somehow, he managed to keep the anger at bay. However, he was certain that Ellen could see it on his face.
“Your Grace, I know I’m speaking out of turn, but I believe you two are happy and that whatever Her Grace went there for has something to do with the threats she has been receiving.”
That gave Oliver pause. He knew that Alexandra might need more money to pay off her father’s debts. He had heard a new melody coming from the music room the past few nights. He’d like to think that whatever they had together had somehow inspired her.
The new composition was passionate, with just a hint of sadness. Something touched his soul whenever he heard it, and yet he could not bring himself to openly listen to her as she played. He was still afraid that she would stop as soon as he set foot into the room.
Perhaps if he had done so, she wouldn’t be selling it? For that was the only valid reason to leave the house early in the morning to meet with John Prescott without an escort.
Or was it?
Whatever the case might be, Oliver was prepared to look for his wife all over London.
Suddenly, the door swung open. A harried-looking Alexandra was about to enter when she saw Oliver standing there. The maid quickly made herself scarce.
“Oliver, I—” Alexandra began, all the color draining from her face.
“Where were you, Alexandra?” Oliver demanded. “You know what I mean by my question. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t suspect that you weren’t visiting a member of thetonor purchasing gifts at the market.”
“Oliver.” Her voice was now pleading, and tears welled up in her eyes.
Oliver simply wanted to take her in his arms and make every worry go away, but he wouldn’t accept lies and secrets. Not anymore. He was ready to bare his soul to this woman. He was ready to open his heart. She might already own it, but her own heart felt more untamed. Unattainable.
“You went to Prescott, didn’t you? Why can’t you simply let me pay off your father’s debts?”
“You know why,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. For a moment, the look in her eyes was no longer pleading but accusatory. “I want to solve my problems. My father is my problem.”
“Alexandra, I’m your husband,” Oliver reminded her, stepping closer and feeling a breeze. That was when they realized the door was still open. “What's mine is yours. I’m supposed to protect you. I heard about the man who came with a letter.”
“Oliver, you know that I don’t want our relationship to be more…” Alexandra whispered. A tear rolled down her cheek, but she seemed calm enough. Steady on the outside. “If you pay off his debts, it will remind me that we only married for that.”
“But there are other ways to get around that!” Oliver roared, losing his temper. “You don’t need to go to Prescott for that. You could have asked me to give your composition to a messenger and send him to another music teacher. Or to a benefactor. Have you thought of that?”
“No,” she said simply. “And I won’t have you making these plans and decisions for me, Oliver. You and my father had already stripped that away from me a year ago.”
“So, you regret this? Us? Do you still want the precious divorce that you talked about? The one that would be a noose around your neck?”
“I don’t care what thetonsays,” Alexandra said, faltering a little. Oliver could detect that it was only a half-truth. Shehadstarted caring. Shehadenjoyed becoming part of something. “I regretted being pushed around, yes, but I?—”
“You regretted it?” Oliver interrupted, his temper flaring again.
He could no longer think clearly. All the things that happened between them were what? A matter of convenience?
Perhaps he’d thought so himself in the past, but now, hearing it from her…
Perhaps it only happened because they were in the same house? Perhaps she was thinking of Prescott the whole time, and Oliver was the safe choice?
Alexandra shivered. The wind seemed to be getting stronger outside. Oliver strode toward her and reached behind her to close the door. With that one move, he had pulled her close to him. He could smell the violets in her hair and the clean scent of soap. She had left the house without applying perfume, but she still smelled damn good.
