Page 100 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
“It is lovely for me to see him happy,” she told Alexander as they danced alongside the couple, her voice lowered. “He looks very comfortable with her, does he not?”
“He does,” Alexander agreed. “Do you think she is viscountess material?”
“Who knows? I did not think I was duchess material.”
Alexander frowned at her. “Whatever made you think that?”
“You knew Donald’s character,” she said, her voice not quiet, not cracking or broken anymore with the confidence he had shattered within her.
Over the course of her marriage to Alexander, the Duke of Silverton had rebuilt Madeleine, piece by piece, back together.
“He had me believing I was barely a good enough countess, that he had simply endured me for the sake of securing his line. How could I ever think I would be anything more? It is why I accepted my fate back then.”
“You are my everything,” Alexander said. “Youareeverything. You are the most perfect duchess I never envisioned myself marrying.” His teasing grin told her enough to laugh back.
“And yet here I am.”
His eyes lingered on her. “Here you are.” But the softer tone in his voice, and the gentler look in his gaze quickly hardened at something over her shoulder. He stiffened.
“What is it?” she glanced quickly over her shoulder to look, seeing only the usual crowd oftonaristocrats.
“Nothing,” he told her. “I?—”
“Alexander. We agreed not to shut down on one another.”
“I know. But it was truly nothing. I thought I saw somebody watching us.”
“Is everybody not watching us?” she teased.
Alexander tried to smile; she saw the effort it took. She felt the tension in his shoulders take too long to relax once again. But she cupped his face and brought his attention back to her.
“You worry, and I understand why, but we are here, together. This is not a gambling hell, Alexander. These are not those awful taverns we visited once upon a time. We are not being watched.”
But there was something on Alexander’s mind, something he was choosing not to share, whether it was out of protection or confusion, or sheer stubbornness, she did not know.
All she did was lead her husband off the dancefloor, hoping to lose themselves in the crowd.
By the end of the night, John’s face was flushed with happiness, and Madeleine was not worried, for Alexander had relaxed.
Yet his gaze roamed protectively, as if he searched for a threat but whenever she looked, there was nothing there.
When he took her hand to help her into the carriage to go back to the townhouse, Alexander held her tighter.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Must you go?” Madeleine asked, her voice exasperated the following evening.
“I must. Horace does not send such missives with urgency. I must go to help him out.”
“He is the manager?—”
“And it is my establishment.”
Alexander did not mean to cut his wife off but he was on-edge. Horace had sent him a letter that was urgent enough to disrupt their evening dinner with John.
John frowned at the way Madeleine had left the dining hall to whisper in private but Alexander was not about to risk anybody else finding out about his secret.
“Alexander,” she pleaded softly. “Please stay. It is the last dinner with John before he departs for Halthorpe.”
