Page 13 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
Mrs. Raleigh’s stony expression fell slightly. “My lady, I cannot.”
She sweetened her voice. “I understand your loyalty to my husband. He has employed you for many years, but Iwilltake full use of my control of the house’s staffing if you remain uncooperative.”
After a moment, Mrs. Raleigh nodded.
Her voice was quieter when she finally spoke. “I have heard from Lord Kinsfeld’s valet that the master has a gambling habit, and indulges it frequently.”
That was not news to Madeleine, but it seemed she had been in the dark about the frequency and depth. She knew her possessions he had lavished her with once had been taken to cover some costs but… she did not realize just how bad the situation was.
“How bad is it, Mrs. Raleigh?” she asked, her chest tightening.
“I cannot say, my lady.”
“Oh, I think you must.” Her voice was hard. “I have a right to know.”
“If I may say, Lady Kinsfeld, if you do not already know then there could be a reason.”
Madeleine saw red for a moment. “I—Mrs. Raleigh, we are both women in a world that is ruled by men. I am the lady of the house, yes, but my life is still handled and controlled by men. My father, then my husband. I am trying to understand my husband’s situation, as I am sure you understand. Surely, if this was you in my situation, you would want another woman to help you out—to help you where no man has.”
The housekeeper’s gaze flickered, her mouth tightening. “And should this get around to Lord Kinsfeld, I can be assured that my employment is safe? Many of the staff have been let go over the last months.”
“As I said, I can control who remains hired and who does not. If you help me, I will do my best to secure your position.”
Mrs. Raleigh swallowed, her shoulders slumping. “I have heard that His Lordship has been seen… Well, with several women at the Golden Hand.”
Madeleine shook with fury that she contained in front of her housekeeper. She drew back.
“Thank you, Mrs. Raleigh. That would be all,” Her answer was clipped, angry.
Hurriedly, she called for a carriage to be prepared. Her fury directed her right to one of the most well-known gambling halls that she knew of, the Golden Hand. A notorious place she did not really think she would see the inside of, but she made her way there.
How could he do this to me? She thought furiously, her jaw clenched, her hands forming fists in her lap as she fought to control herself in the short carriage ride to the gambling hall.
How dare he?
Women and gambling—and meanwhile she waited at home for him, foolishly telling herself that the rumors could not be true.
To do it was one thing—to be seen was quite another.
It brought shame down upon her.
Humiliation burned through her, even hotter than that of the previous days when she did not know where he was.
Knowing her husband’s habits, and having a hint of where to look, was both a blessing and a curse.
Madeleine entered the gambling hall, enduring the looks of men who gawked at her as she moved through the main room.
The air, thick with cigar smoke and the sour tang of spilled liquor, pressed against her like an unwelcome embrace.
The tables were littered with cards and glasses, the room gleaming with golden fixtures and plush furnishings that gave the place its name—the Golden Hand. But for all its luxury, it reeked of debauchery.
Gasps punctuated the raucous laughter and shouted bets as heads swiveled toward her. Conversations stalled, the clink of glasses faltered, and for a moment, the hum of the room stuttered into silence.
A respectable woman. In a gambling hell.
It was unthinkable.
“Good God,” someone muttered near the entrance, loud enough to carry. “What is she doing here?”
