Page 69 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
He frowned. “If I cannot serve my wife as I please, then I do not know what I can do.”
“And before you had a wife?” she asked playfully.
“I learned in preparation.”
“Although you did not wish to marry,” she said, not quite a question, nor a statement.
Alexander settled onto the armchair next to hers, their respective cups of tea between them. He had put some squares of chocolate on a saucer for them to share.
It was not proper, he knew, but he had felt an unexpected closeness to her since their coupling barely an hour ago.
It was as though being rough with her had made a part of him feel softer, and he was not sure how to untangle that.
“I did not,” he agreed slowly, hoping it would not take away the glow on his wife’s face. “However, I learned regardless. I have… an associate.”
“The one you refuse to talk about from our wedding?”
“Yes. And when I first… went into business with him, we met frequently, of course.” He paused, trying not to speak too openly about the gambling hall or Horace. “And sometimes my associate?—”
“You can tell me his name, you know,” she laughed. “I have seen him.”
“I do not wish to at the moment.” He tried to soften the refusal with a smile but he could tell it was tightened by his deception.
“He suffered frequent headaches and oftentimes meeting over a glass of wine made those headaches worse. So, he called for tea. And although it was not entirely correct to do so, I offered to make him tea one time. I felt as though…” he struggled to patch over this part of his story.
“I felt indebted to him. Our business was an advantage to me, and I felt that preparing him tea was the least I could do.”
“I am sure you gave much more than that with your business.”
He thought of Horace and the new life the Raven’s Den had given him, and Alexander nodded. “Quite. But I also wished to learn.”
“I think it says a lot about you, Alexander,” Madeleine confessed. “It is a trait not many men have. I like that you have it.”
“What trait?”
“It is a selflessness, of sorts,” she said without hesitating, as if she knew it already. “I admire it.”
His wife paused to adjust her robe. They had barely been intimate an hour ago and he already wished to scandalously take her again right there, in his chair, have her astride his lap.
Perhaps I just might.
She plucked a chocolate from the tray. He had his own stock, of course, but there was something quite thrilling about making her tea and stealing chocolate, sitting down in the parlor with his wife at such an hour.
“Did you think me selfish?” he asked.
“I thought ofmenas selfish,” she corrected. “But I had to tell myself that a selfish man would not have done what you have done for me.”
“Believe me, Duchess, some choices were entirely selfish.”
He looked her over slowly, a slow, wicked smile on his face. She blushed—something he loved causing her to do—and distracted herself with biting into the decadent chocolate. He watched her face soften in pleasure at the taste.
“I have not thanked you properly for helping me at the events we have attended.” Her voice was quiet, and she didn’t quite meet his gaze. “Your words and actions kept me afloat while I drowned in humiliation and scrutiny.”
“I would not have let you flounder,” he told her.
“Still, I am grateful. You could have told me to be courageous and fight my battles alone. After all, I do believe I pulled you into my troubles and the gossip.”
“I put myself in its way willingly and knowingly,” he assured her. “I knew what thetonwould think of our marriage but I did not care. I only wanted what I thought was best for you.”
