Page 91 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
“Yes. I was shocked.”
“I believe you called it a place of debauchery, and you asked if I was offended due to it being a favorite haunt of mine.”
“You never did deny or agree,” she said. “But youwereoffended at my lack of respect for the place.”
“That is because I own the Raven’s Den, Madeleine.”
The silence that followed his confession could have suffocated him. He watched Madeleine’s face turn from confusion, to shock, to anger that she kept composed exceptionally well.
“I have owned it for the past six years, and I placed Mr. Horace Matthews, my witness from our wedding ceremony, in charge as a manager to cover my ownership.”
“You…” She leaned back against the settee’s arm. “You own the place that got Donald wound up into debt?”
“No,” he growled, before reconsidering. “No.” He made his voice softer. “Kinsfeldgot himself wound up into debt. Yes, gambling comes at a risk of falling into it as deep as he did, but the Raven’s Den is not responsible for it. If you will give me another moment, I will explain why I own it.”
“What reason could you possibly?—”
“Madeleine,” he pleaded. “Please, have patience with me.”
After a moment, she swallowed and nodded.
“My father was reckless, irresponsible. Thetonloved him, for he knew how to spin a smooth word and entice a crowd. He knew how to dangle investments in front of wealthy lords and get their support. However, he had a darker side to him. He was a man of dubious tastes. Gambling, drinking. Women too, I imagine.”
Madeleine’s jaw clenched, likely recognizing the traits.
Alexander carefully continued. “My father associated with dangerous individuals. Rival noblemen looking for fights, and crime lords who were not afraid to get their own hands dirty. Butbecause his affairs became too much to manage, his debts piled up. The debts were not to honorable establishments that could be reasoned with. Once they grew heavier, the enemies he made grew.
“My mother and I, by association, were at risk, because my father could not pay what he owed. Not even one percent of it.” He inhaled sharply. “Madeleine, I told you I was just fifteen years old when my mother died in my arms, but I did not tell you why, or how. I could not. I…”
He drew in another breath, this one slower, more deliberate.
“When my father fell deeper into his destructive hole, my mother and I kept one another sane. She kept me safe, as best she could. She loved music, and she loved to dance around the parlor and her own chambers, and she would comb her own hair before her maids woke her up.”
He smiled without being able to help himself.
“She said she didn’t want to trouble them, but I think she just enjoyed it. She did not love my father. Or, perhaps she did at one point, but I was too young to find out properly. I am sure it was a loveless marriage—so for my mother to die the way she did… due to a man who did not even love her, when another man may have been able to give her that…”
He shook his head, his mouth tight.
“What happened, Alexander?”
Madeleine’s gentle question brought him back from spiraling.
He took a moment before continuing. “My father brokered a deal that went wrong.Verywrong. He did not uphold the bargain, and he thought he could swindle some money without the consequences catching up to him. But the consequencesdidcatch up—only, not to him.”
Madeleine’s face was pale, her hands tight around his. Any anger from his earlier confession had softened into empathy as she listened to his grief.
“One of my father’s associates—a gaming hell owner whom my father had promised investment to and tried to reap the benefits before he paid up—sent a message that he would not stand for betrayal in business. I heard a commotion in the drawing room, and raced downstairs. The place was empty. All that was left were the bloodstains, and… my mother, dying on the floor.”
Madeleine gasped.
“And your father?” she asked, her voice tight with emotion.
“He was out. At his favorite gentleman’s club.” The flat tone was full of anger, of resentment. “I hated him. I do not think I hated him more than I did in that moment.”
“Alexander,” she whispered. “I am so sorry.”
“When he returned, I pinned him to the wall and I made him look at his wife, and what they had done. I demanded he seek revenge for the woman he had sworn to protect. But he was a coward. He refused. That night, I saw him cry for the only time in my life, and I was the constant reminder of his mistake. His guilt, manifested.
