Page 5 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
“I think it is time for Lady Kinsfeld to share a story,” one of the other women suggested, her voice sickly sweet.
The comment, however, was not even directed at Madeleine, but another woman. The two of them whispered in the other corner of the room, their gazes sliding to Madeleine and away again, as if they thought they were being secretive.
Madeleine met their gaze, her jaw set. She did not flinch.
“She must havemanystories, what with Lord Kinsfeld’s reputation,” another woman giggled.
“I have noticed his absence today,” the first lady answered. “I do wonder if he has frequented…”
Tessa huffed at them, tapering off their speculation of Madeleine’s husband’s whereabouts. “They are shameless. Ignore them. See, Lady Finley is showcasing her embroidery. Is it not beautiful?”
Madeleine nodded but she could not fully take her attention off the gossiping women. And once she noticed them, she began to notice the other stares, and suddenly, the whole room felt focused on her, and a shameful flush swept over her.
Ignore them. They know nothing. It is mere gossip.
One of the women stood up, her smile that of a trickster—pleasant enough to look at but hiding venomous intent underneath. She gracefully crossed the room to place herself in the empty chair next to Madeleine. She fluttered her fan.
“Lady Kinsfeld,” she purred, her blue eyes sparkling. “Whereisyour husband tonight?” Her voice was raised, gaining the attention of others nearby. “I believe the other ladies were right. He is absent tonight, as he has been at many events lately.”
Madeleine felt her practiced smile fix into place. “It is good of you to enquire but Lord Kinsfeld is busy with estate matters.”
Her answer was polite enough but her insides tightened with anger. She was furious—both at her husband, Donald, for abandoning her, and herself for enduring such humiliation.
“I see. Well, they must keep himveryoccupied.”
Madeleine’s smile was tighter. “Indeed.”
The lady looked as if she considered pressing harder but Colin cleared his throat. “I dare say, if I was kept as busy as Lord Kinsfeld that I might be worthier of my title.” He gave a short laugh, and Madeleine knew it was not true at all, but the joke took the attention off her.
Tessa stood up. “Madeleine, I believe our gracious host has opened up her art gallery for viewing. Shall we take a turn around there?”
Madeleine stood, her eyes still on the lady. Finally, she let Tessa lead her away.
Only when they left the parlor did she exhale deeply.
“Are you all right?” Tessa asked.
Madeleine nodded. “They are overwhelming at times, are they not?”
“They are hungry vipers,” Colin muttered. “They starve for stories when their own lives bore them.”
“But that is our wonderful society,” Tessa muttered drily before she directed Madeleine to the art gallery. “Come, Madeleine. Whatever does ail you, shall be forgotten in brushstrokes and landscapes.”
In the short carriage ride home, Madeleine finally breathed easier for the first time that day.
The sky had darkened, and her shoulders relaxed, yet the knot of tension remained in her breastbone no matter how many times she tried to rub at it. Her mind was lost to thoughts of her husband.
Where was he?
She had not seen him for breakfast, nor entering his chambers at night to retire forfour consecutive days.
His bedsheets had remained cold, and his valet had not seen him, either. Yet the valet’s gaze always slid to the floor when he answered, as though he knew more than he mentioned.
The road passed by outside and Madeleine felt that familiar lurch in her stomach as the carriage pulled up outside Kinsfeld House, the townhouse where she lived within London’s most highly regarded square.
The ride from the Inglebury residence had taken no time at all but any silence was enough for her despairing thoughts to slip in.
I once imagined leaving events with my husband, in love, laughing and flushed from wine and a good evening. Our hands brushing, perhaps, retiring together.
