Page 81 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
“I will strike them down as I did before,” he said. “And if they do not stop, I shall warn their husbands they can duel with me over their wives’ disrespect.”
Madeleine’s lips parted in shock. “You would not?—”
“For your safety, I would do anything. You are above all of them, Madeleine. I do not care much for the aristocracy, and half of the people that form it are a plague upon the good-named people. But wearepart of it. Do not settle for cowering in here, as beautiful as Silverton is.”
“And you are sure I cannot convince you to stay home, where we might… indulge?” She gave him a teasing smile but she could see that she had not won this particular battle. Alexander inclined his head to her.
“We are attending the exhibit,” he said. “You love art, and I wish to see you admire it. I will have you fitted for a new dress.”
With that, he strode out, leaving her nervous, a little frightened, yet excited all the same.
At the opera that night, Alexander guided Madeleine by her gloved hand to the box he had purchased for the night. A man in a silk tailcoat waited at the back, holding a tray with two glasses of wine that he gave to them.
“Your Graces,” he said, bowing. “The performance shall start upon the hour. Should you require anything, I am beyond the curtains.”
Alexander nodded, watching the man leave before he took his seat next to Madeleine. She looked stunning, with her blonde hair pinned into a wide bun at the nape of her neck, and an onyx necklace around her neck. He had purchased it for her upon their wedding day but had waited to gift it to her.
Tonight, with him wearing black, it seemed like a good moment to wear it.
Especially with the eyes of thetonon them for the first time in a while. He was aware of the gazes of others sliding to them as they took their seats. Some whispered and pointed, others merely glimpsed, curious, before looking away.
“They are watching us,” Madeleine whispered. “And yet you wish to attend the exhibit next week.”
“Let them watch.” Below the balcony wall, out of sight, he placed his hand on her thigh. “They cannot do anything to harm us. You are not guilty, nor have I done anything wrong, either. Enjoy the opera, Duchess. You are stronger than any of them.”
He leaned into her, his mouth brushing the base of her ear.
“I do not care what they will say, and if you fret for another moment instead of enjoying yourself, I will get creative about my ways to distract you.”
His hand slid higher up her thigh, and he heard the catch of Madeleine’s breath, before the stage lit up with a spotlight upon Mademoiselle Giselle.
“Enjoy yourself,” he reminded her.
And she did.
He watched her as she watched the singer. Her attention was raptly captured, her eyes wide. She leaned forward, almost pressed right to the balcony as if she might wish to fly beyond it, to be right on the stage with the performer.
Alexander could scarcely take his eyes off Madeleine. She was more captivating than a thousand operas, performances, or paintings. She had been ever since he’d first laid eyes on her. He had tried to pretend he felt nothing.
It was untrue; he felt everything.
He knew he had to tell her the truth about owning the Raven’s Den. Each time she asked him anything about his life, she got closer and closer to his truth, and he could not keep it from her any longer.
Given her previous husband’s troubles with gambling, he did not know how she would take it.
Would she see him as an enabler? As someone who plied the unfortunate with drugs that destroyed them? Would she think he was truly dangerous, a man who lorded over the most notorious gaming hell in London?
He tried not to think of such extremities, and instead focused on the opera singer’s voice.
It unlocked something within him—something buried deep from his childhood, a memory he had long ago locked away.
The warmth of his mother’s smile, the sound of her soft voice, and the feeling of her steady hand on his shoulder while they sat together in the theater flooded back to him.
It was the last memory he had of her, before everything changed. The recollection swelled in his chest, a heavy weight that he couldn’t ignore anymore.
For once, he didn’t fight it.
When the interval came, and Madeleine turned to him with watery eyes and a breathless smile, he took her hand.
