Page 31 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
“Is that… T-that is his jacket,” she whispered, her hand clasped to her mouth. “He wore that jacket only last month, t-to the picnic that Tessa and Colin invited us to.”
Alexander slowly turned to her.
“Do… do you think—do you think my husband is dead?”
He could not answer her question.
His only thought was to get her out of the warehouse, away from the blood, and the darkness.
Women like her belonged in the warm bath of light—nothing like this, or the dingy pub she had insisted on going to with him several days ago.
“I am taking you home,” he told her, leaving no room to insist otherwise.
At her townhouse, he stood in the doorway of the servant’s entrance.
“My lady,” he said slowly, “at this point, you need to contact the authorities. I thought this would be a simple matter, perhaps bridging the gaps between one or two informants, but this appears it has gone even above my abilities. For your own sake, contact them.”
Madeleine nodded, her face pale. No doubt she was already considering her future—what it might look like now, should her husband’s death be confirmed.
“Promise me you will.”
“I will,” she said.
“Your husband was involved with dangerous people If he is dead…”
Should they come for you, I do not want you in danger.
He could not bring himself to say them.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “You have helped me so much, and I know a great deal thanks to you, even if it is not good. I would rather know bad news than settle for nothing at all.”
Alexander only nodded. He grasped her hand, bringing it to his mouth, brushing his lips over her knuckles.
He merely only meant to offer her a brief moment of comfort, but as his lips brushed against her soft skin, he wished it was her mouth.
He looked up at her full, rosebud lips, and slowly lowered her hand. He stepped forward, leaning in, unable to help himself.
But she quickly backed up.
“Goodnight, Your Grace.”
Without another word, Madeleine went inside.
Chapter Eleven
“Your Grace, it is an honor to see you here tonight,” Lord Greenacre said, smiling brightly.
“Indeed. Thank you for inviting me,” Alexander responded.
“Word on the street is that you have been helping some poor souls try to get out of poor gambling habits. Saving lives, are you not, Your Grace?”
Alexander shook his head. “Some men dig their own holes but that should not mean they cannot get out of it with some support.”
“Ah, you are a good man, Silverton. Will you ever stop pulling those powerful strings you possess?” The baron laughed, and Alexander looked away from him.
In truth, he had not wanted to attend the ball tonight, and only had done so for a hope of glimpsing Madeleine.
He knew he could have visited her at any point in the last two days but hadn’t been able to bring himself to do so. He told himself she needed space—would need space—especially if what he thought was confirmed.
