Page 15 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
Chapter Six
“Your Grace,” Mr. Barrington said, clearing his throat. “I was only warning Lady Kinsfeld against disrupting the games.”
Madeleine whirled around, coming face-to-face with the Duke of Silverton.
Her breath hitched as her chest tightened, the suddenness of his proximity making her heart pound like a frantic drum. His masculine scent clung to him, wrapping around her senses with an intimacy that felt almost unbearable.
His piercing blue eyes locked onto hers, sharp and unrelenting, and a rush of heat flared across her skin, spreading from her cheeks down to the hollow of her throat.
It wasn’t just his nearness—it was the sheer force of his presence, the way he seemed to take up all the air in the room, leaving her struggling to draw a full breath.
Her throat caught, dry and constricted, as a surge of anger, embarrassment, and something far more dangerous roared through her veins.
“Your warning is noted, Barrington. Now keep your focus on the games and leave Lady Kinsfeld to me,” the Duke’s voice was hard, leaving no room for argument.
“Of course, Your Grace. Lady Kinsfeld, if you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask.”
Before she could say anything, the manager of the Golden Hand nodded and retreated.
Madeleine felt the Duke’s hand on the small of her back, the heat of his touch radiating through the thin fabric of her gown.
Her chest tightened, and a jolt of awareness coursed through her, sharp and disorienting. His palm rested there with firmness and ease—infuriatingly so—sending a ripple of sensation down her spine that left her toes curling in her shoes.
Her heart thudded faster, the air between them charged with something she couldn’t quite name—or didn’t dare to.
As he guided her away from the staircase and toward another corner of the hall, her skin burned where his hand lingered.
She pulled away as soon as they stopped behind a large pillar. Aware of interested eyes on them, she forced herself to remain straight and composed.
She would not cower before the Duke of Silverton.
“Are you following me, Lady Kinsfeld?”
A hint of amusement danced over the man’s face as he looked down at her, his hands clasped behind his back.
“How very presumptuous of you,” she muttered, and louder, she added, “you did not believe me about not knowing where my husband is, yet I am looking for him. What is it you are doing?”
“Exactly the same as you claim. Although, I do think you should leave the investigating to me. Perhaps you should go back to lingering in doorways,” his voice was quieter when he teased, as if he knew they could not be overheard.
Madeleine glowered at him. “I will not leave until I see the truth for myself.”
“Do you not think you should thank me for rescuing you?” His question came abruptly.
“I do not need rescuing, Your Grace,” she snapped. “Mr. Barrington was unpleasant, but not unmanageable. I am not a maiden in need of saving.”
“Are you now?” His eyes glimmered beneath the chandelier with amusement again.
“Do you see my husband?” she asked hotly. “No. Yet you seeme. That proves me capable of fending for myself.”
The Duke snorted as he looked around. “You have done so on the back of your husband’s provisions. What if he has disappeared for good, Lady Kinsfeld? What sort of saving yourself will you be able to do?”
That had her quiet. Angry, but quiet.
“Regardless, I do not believe you,” he continued.
“You still think I am covering for Lord Kinsfeld.”
“Yes.”
