Page 103 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
So Alexander knew: to protect his wife, he had to agree to Donald’s demands.
Snarling, he shoved Donald back against the desk. “Do not come here again.”
With one last warning glare, he left the office.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“The fight,” Alexander hissed at Horace, “what happened?”
On his way out, he passed Horace. He caught his friend’s shoulder, forcing him to a stop.
“I sent my missive but I have handled it with the guards. Alexander, it was quite awful. They had guns! They are getting bolder in here. I had the guards escort the men from the premises right after I sent you the letter.”
“The threat is eliminated?” Alexander checked.
Horace gave him an exhausted smile. “Friend, is the threat ever fully eliminated? We give a gambling landscape to greedy, ruthless noblemen. For now, everything is calm. If I need anything I shall send word.”
“Do not hesitate to,” Alexander growled before he stalked out of the Raven’s Den.
In a rush of action, he was back on his horse, digging his heels into its flank, and racing back towards his townhouse.
His heart raged, his mind tripping over and over with thoughts of Madeleine, of his strong, courageous wife.
But as quickly as he thought of her smile, those eyes that captured him no matter how hard he had tried to deny it, he then saw blood soaking into her blonde hair.
He could hear her bell-like voice, how it rang beautifully when she sang under her breath. He heard the choking sounds his mother had let out as she died.
His breath came short with anger, forced into a position where he would lose Madeleine either way—but only one way kept her safe. She had been lonely with Donald, but at least she had been safe. No man had ever knocked on her door to take revenge.
With Alexander, she risked such a thing without even realizing.
Is the threat ever fully eliminated?Horace’s words rang through his mind.
“Madeleine,” he cried out as he rode back to the townhouse, his heart aching for her.
When he arrived, he slid off his horse and went into the house, trying to steady both his heart and nerves.
He rarely felt nervous or anxious. He was a composed man, had prided himself on his impeccable composure. But to say the things he needed to say… he was truly undone.
His wife was in the parlor, her feet tucked beneath her, a book open in her lap. On top of a table next to her was an empty wine glass.
“So you have returned,” she sighed. “John has already left for Halthorpe.”
“I left you alone,” he said quietly. “I am sorry.”
Whatever she heard in his voice made her look up from her book, her sharp eyes softening when she saw him. Did she see the danger he brought with him?
Her expression became alarmed as she stood to her feet. “Alexander? What is wrong?” She moved to him but he stepped back. “What happened at the gambling hell?”
Alexander shook his head, his mouth tightening. “Heavens, you should not even speak of such a place. I should never have forced your tongue to sully itself with talk of my gambling club. I should—I should have never given you such a concept to associate yourself with.”
She let out a confused laugh. “Husband, what foolishness are you speaking?”
“I…” he hesitated, drawing further away from her when she reached for him. “There was a fight at the Raven’s Den. Horace had made sure the men were removed before I could get there, but he stated they had guns. Guns, Madeleine. Aristocrats do not simply carry guns around. The fights have grown increasingly bad over the last few weeks. Knives, fists, and now this. There is no end to it—there willneverbe an end to it.”
He did not dare to mention Donald being there. No, he could not bring himself to.
Madeleine moved close to him again. Her hands raised to cup his face in the way she did when she comforted him over a vulnerable moment. “Husband?—”
