Page 75 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
“Regardless.”
She tried to sigh as his defenses went back up. However, there looked to be a flicker of regret in his eyes as he turned away from her to settle his hands over the pianoforte.
He would not speak of his mother or his own thoughts for his future. She gained a little at a time. Perhaps for now that was better than nothing.
Wordlessly, Madeleine began to play the harp. Moments later, as if he knew the music by heart, Alexander joined in.
Together, they let a lyrical ballad play between them, as if it might speak for them when words were not sufficient.
Alexander’s heart had been heavy ever since he had dared to brush against the topic of his mother with Madeleine. He shouldhave known she would have asked further, would not have been content with light answers.
There had been relief in discussing Maria Prestwick, the late Duchess of Silverton, but that came with great pain and reminders of what he had lost.
His wife continued playing even when he left the music room, overwhelmed with emotion. It had been years since his mother’s beloved sheet music collection had been played.
He blinked, and an image flashed into his mind.
His mother’s body rested in his arms, her eyes fluttering.
Alexander forced the thoughts away and walked to the kitchen, finding Mrs. Turner. “Is everything prepared for this evening?”
“Almost,” she answered, turning to him. She frowned when she looked at him. “Are you well, Your Grace?”
“Quite.” Turning on his heel, he walked back to the main part of the manor.
Sometimes, walking through these halls was traumatic enough.
The library, especially, where?—
He shook his head. His wife was proving to have a way of turning his mind towards the very things he fought not to think about. The Raven’s Den, Silverton Hall, and his marriage—they should be his only focuses.
So why did he keep drifting back to the thought of her tending his wounds, both physical and emotional? He was piecing her back together after the damage that bastard, Donald, had wrought upon her. Why not the same for him with his grief?
For now, Alexander forced the thoughts to rest and went to find Madeleine. One of the maids reported her to be in the library, and he found her curled up in an armchair, a glass of wine on a table next to her. A book was open in her lap, and her eyes were so focused on the book she did not notice him enter.
Amused, he walked around the room, merely watching her. Her engrossed reading fascinated him. He had never seen her read so intently before.
“The Traveled Map of a Cartographer,” Alexander read aloud, picking a random title from the shelf.
Madeleine jumped, her book falling shut with her finger just catching her page.
“Alexander,” she laughed. “I did not see you.”
“Not for quite some time, no.” He met her gaze, his expression soft. “I enjoyed watching you read. Your… your eyelashes catch the sun when your eyes are downcast.”
Madeleine flushed. “Are you here to read with me?”
“I am actually here to take you for the sunset surprise I mentioned. It is a small carriage ride away, and I spent many moments admiring you. We must make haste at once.”
Madeleine moved into action, her movements fluid.
“Am I dressed appropriately?” She glanced down at her pretty pale blue gown with puffed sleeves and silver trim on the neckline and sleeves.
“You look perfect.” He stepped closer to her, cupping her face. “However, where we are headed, you are far too overdressed.”
“I can change?—”
“Madeleine.” His voice was low, teasing. “I mean, more precisely, that you will not be needing any clothing at all once we sit down.”
