Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

“ I t is a money transaction between Donald and an anonymous sender. They never signed it,” Madeleine told him, clutching the letter.

Next to her in the carriage, Alexander could not settle.

He was still, but his thoughts were a jumbled mess . Anger, suspicion… desire.

Seeing how Madeleine had been so fierce, standing her ground against Nellie’s riling up of her, had loosened something in him.

It had sent his mind into a tailspin.

“What does it say?”

Madeleine cleared her throat and read the letter aloud, alerting them both to a new location to try.

Alexander was tired of dead ends and false leads, of people whose tongues did not loosen so easily. He was being sent on a wild goose chase of this man, and he was bone-tired of it. Determined, but tired.

But Madeleine…

There was a fire in Madeleine that refused to bank. Still, he noticed how her hands trembled.

He could not stop himself from reaching out.

“Let us stop for the day,” he told her. “We have done enough for now.”

He did not expect Madeleine to wrench back so harshly but she did, her angry face turned up to him.

“It will not be enough until we apprehend my wandering husband,” she snapped before blinking, and forcing herself to relax. “I want to do this. Let us follow this new lead.”

There was a fierce steel to her nerves that Alexander could not help but admire. He gazed at her, his voice lost, even as he shook his head.

“No. I will return you home.”

“Do not,” she protested. “Please. I—I cannot handle one more hour alone in that house, especially now. It was hard enough when I questioned what he was doing, and where he was. It is even worse now. Not because I feel anything for him but because I feel so ashamed, like everybody is watching me, as though they already know what I am only now finding out.”

She bit her lip, dismay written over her face.

Alexander hesitated. “I do not wish you to overburden yourself.”

“I have to do this. Please.”

That second plea—it was what undid Alexander, and he could not deny that he respected her stubborn fight.

“Fine,” he conceded eventually. “You know, you are as stubborn as your brother.”

He leaned out of the window, calling the location to the driver, somewhere near the dock.

A loading bay of sorts for imports and merchant transactions. The driver called an agreement, and began taking them there.

“You win again, Madeleine.”

He could not help his brief smirk.

“This is a game for me to win, Alexander?”

The way she dared to say his name because he had said hers, because he had invited her to, had his stomach rolling with warmth. He was struggling more and more to keep his attraction to her at bay.

“I do not know,” he told her. “Is it?”

It was a challenge, and a flirtation, in one.

“It’s best we did not,” she said and he clenched his jaw.

She was right. She was a married woman. No matter how much of a vile wretch her husband was, she was still bound to him.

There was no room for games between them.

Yet it was so tempting.

Among the chase for her husband, to give in to the push-and-pull between the two of them, to flirt with her, to dare her…

To see how close they might get before they pulled back.

The docking area that they found themselves in was shadowed by the towering structures of boxes, piles of sand, and empty import containers.

Alexander pushed at the broken lock of a warehouse that was cloaked in darkness, abandoned.

The entire docking area was eerily silent, not a hint of anybody around.

He swallowed, making sure Madeleine was at his side as he entered. He was not afraid of being there, only of what he might find with Madeleine present.

Inside, the warehouse offered little to see by, so Alexander squinted through the darkness, eyeing boxes and dust motes swirling through the air.

A railing-lined level ran near the ceiling, and a small window offered a small bit of light.

It was enough to catch sight of bloodstains on the floor, right near the door. They splattered behind some boxes, as though somebody had hidden and been pulled out.

And there—a piece of torn fabric. It was edged with blood, but it was undeniable fine material.

Something an earl would wear.

A curse slipped free from Alexander as he snatched it up, hoping Madeleine didn’t see it, and he could tell her in a far less garish way. But her gasp in the silent warehouse told him enough.

“Is that… T-that is his jacket,” she whispered, her hand clasped to her mouth. “He wore that jacket only last month, t-to the picnic that Tessa and Colin invited us to.”

Alexander slowly turned to her.

“Do… do you think—do you think my husband is dead?”

He could not answer her question.

His only thought was to get her out of the warehouse, away from the blood, and the darkness.

Women like her belonged in the warm bath of light—nothing like this, or the dingy pub she had insisted on going to with him several days ago.

“I am taking you home,” he told her, leaving no room to insist otherwise.

At her townhouse, he stood in the doorway of the servant’s entrance.

“My lady,” he said slowly, “at this point, you need to contact the authorities. I thought this would be a simple matter, perhaps bridging the gaps between one or two informants, but this appears it has gone even above my abilities. For your own sake, contact them.”

Madeleine nodded, her face pale. No doubt she was already considering her future—what it might look like now, should her husband’s death be confirmed.

“Promise me you will.”

“I will,” she said.

“Your husband was involved with dangerous people If he is dead…”

Should they come for you, I do not want you in danger .

He could not bring himself to say them.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “You have helped me so much, and I know a great deal thanks to you, even if it is not good. I would rather know bad news than settle for nothing at all.”

Alexander only nodded. He grasped her hand, bringing it to his mouth, brushing his lips over her knuckles.

He merely only meant to offer her a brief moment of comfort, but as his lips brushed against her soft skin, he wished it was her mouth.

He looked up at her full, rosebud lips, and slowly lowered her hand. He stepped forward, leaning in, unable to help himself.

But she quickly backed up.

“Goodnight, Your Grace.”

Without another word, Madeleine went inside.