Page 117 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
Felix’s wordsone must look out for one’s own happinessrang true to him as well, and Alexander stared both declarations down.
He truly had been like his father: running from his problems, avoiding them and distracting himself from them in order to not face them head-on.
He had intimidated others, made them as miserable as him—exactly as his father had done.
And deep now, he had not only been running from Madeleine’s departure or Donald’s threats but his own feelings for Madeleine that he had been too cowardly to admit.
To love was to put in the line of danger. That was what he had always believed—but what if it did not have to be that way?
No, he would not be like his father.
“I cannot be like him,” Alexander said quietly, and then again, with more confidence, he declared it to John. “I willnotbe like my father.”
“No, you idiot, you will not. And especially not where it concerns my sister, or then I truly will punch you, titles be damned.”
“I must go after her.”
“And I shall see myself out. Ride fast, Alexander. If I know Madeleine, she will try to be strong but she will be miserable.”
Alexander was already flying out of the study and running down the hallway.
He would get his wife back.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
“Alexander,” Madeleine called out, rushing forward to her husband standing on the pier, beneath a streetlamp.
The shadows toyed with his hair, but even as she squinted at his figure, she began to slow down.
Why would he not turn to her?
Only feet away, Madeleine realized slowly that it was not her husband.
Dread filled her heart.
No—it was not Alexander at all.
She began to take a step back but the man turned to her, grinning.
“Hello, Madeleine. Did you miss me?”
Her voice was lost as she stared, feeling light-headed, as she looked at her late husband. Or a man whoshouldhave been her late husband. And yet he was very much alive, beady eyes looking her up and down.
“My, my, I did not forget how beautiful you were. It is a shame I did not sample such glorious goods when you were my wife. Or perhaps you are dressing differently for the Duke of Silverton, hm?”
Madeleine stood there, her heart racing, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find words.
“Word spread through London that the bastard did not wait even three days to marry you. There is a word for women like you, darling, but it is not very nice. Alexander gave me a rather hard punch for applying it to you.”
Alexander.
He knew Donald was alive?
How long had he known?
Heavens—her heart stopped as she thought. Did the time he knew go all the way back to that horrible night?
It was that thought that had her snapping into action.
