Page 7 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
“Good evening.”
Madeleine’s voice was too loud in the silence of the parlor but the man turned to her—and she was taken aback.
He was impossibly tall, and blue eyes found her, piercing her through. His dark, neatly trimmed beard spread over a sharp jawline and strong chin. His thick brows rose at the sight of her.
His eyes flicked to her rumpled gown, running the length of it with a gaze that had Madeleine flushing unexpectedly. She had the urge to cover herself. Still, the way this man looked at her… She hadn’t been looked at like that in many years.
Her throat was dry, and only turned drier when his eyes locked with hers.
Finally, she found her voice.
“Who are you?” she asked, and before he could answer, she pressed on. “And what are you doing in my home at such an hour?”
His expression was cool as he regarded her.
“I am the Duke of Silverton, and I am here to collect a debt, Lady Kinsfeld.”
Chapter Three
“The Duke of Silverton,” Madeleine murmured under her breath, as recognition set in.
I know of him, she thought.
It took her another moment before she realized why.
“My brother told me about you,” she said, her eyes lighting with recognition. “My brother is John Dunby, the Viscount of Halthorpe.”
The Duke’s eyes glimmered with acknowledgement. “I am friends with Lord Halthorpe, yes. But that is not important right now.” He shook his head. “The debt, Lady Kinsfeld.”
“I do not know which debt you speak of,” she answered, somewhat hotly.
“One owed by your husband. Where is Lord Kinsfeld?” His voice was low, dangerous. He was not here for a friendly settling of accounts.
What has my husband done?
The question, and her lack of knowledge, made her feel exposed.
Instead, she lifted her chin, and tried to remain composed as she spoke the truth.
“I am afraid I do not know, Your Grace.”
The Duke of Silverton scoffed. “You do not know where your husband is at such an hour?” His brow raised, his mouth pulling into a slight snarl. “I do not believe you.”
“I cannot give you any other answer, Your Grace.”
The man took a step towards her. “Tell me, Lady Kinsfeld, where is your husband cowering while you play the part of the devoted wife?”
Although her shame burned through her, she realized, with a start, she could face the anger of him thinking she was lying, rather than the pity. The pity from those women at the soiree, pity that a woman would not know where her husband was.
Madeleine glared at the Duke, moving further into the parlor. She would not linger in the doorways of her own house, and she refused to be intimidated by this man.
Once again, the Duke’s eyes fell on her gown, as if he could see every curve and line of her body beneath.
What sort of friends does my brother keep?
“As I said before, Your Grace, Ido notknow,” she bit out. “Is this an interrogation, or are you merely remaining here to stare me down?”
The Duke didn’t flinch, as she hoped he would. He only gave her one long look, as if indulging.
