Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

“ W e have received an invitation.”

Madeleine cocked her head at Alexander, her toast halfway to her mouth. “We have?”

After the gossiping at Lord Banbury’s ball, they had not received another invitation, and Alexander suspected Madeleine was upset about it.

Every day, he swiftly discarded the gossip sheet before she could find any mention of her name, but he knew that Madeleine worried over the gossip.

He nodded. “A young gentleman has settled in London as the new Lord Hartford. He is an earl following his father’s death. I imagine the whole ton has been invited to his ball, and it is only customary for him to host this. He will want to make a good impression.”

Alexander looked at Madeleine as she ate her toast.

“That means I also wish to make a good impression. You will attend with me.”

“Will I?” she asked, trying to tease but it was clear that her nerves didn’t quite manage it.

“Yes.”

Madeleine looked downwards at her empty breakfast plate, realizing she had nothing else with which to busy her hands. Instead, she reached for her teacup but Alexander reached over and rested his hand on her wrist.

“Madeleine, the culprit liable for Donald’s murder has been arrested. The case is now closed, and you are not to be blamed. We should not be afraid to show our faces.”

She wouldn’t look at him, had barely looked at him since their heated moment in her chambers last week. But he reached out for her now and grasped her chin, forcing her gaze to rise to his.

“You should not be afraid of the ton, not now, not ever. Not while you are with me.”

He held her gaze, nodding deeply.

“I do not know if I can stand it a moment longer,” she whispered.

“And you will not.”

“You cannot promise such a thing.”

“Which is why I am not promising,” he countered. “The only thing I can do is swear to protect you, no matter what.”

“And we will leave, should anything happen?”

“If that is what you wish but, Madeleine, remember what I told you last week. You are like a fine wine—bold. I wish to see that boldness come out in you. You are the Duchess of Silverton now, not a shamed lady whose husband ignored and mistreated her. You are not in old dresses anymore—you are in new, expensive gowns. Allow me to bolster your courage, if that is what you need.”

His words sunk in—he watched her slowly consider it before she finally nodded. She had always resisted him. How could he expect any different? He adored finding new ways to convince her of something, to make her see.

“All right,” she murmured. “I will go.”

“Excellent.”

In a moment of tenderness, he pressed his lips to her knuckles.

At the ball three days later, Madeleine had still not composed her nerves properly.

She stood beside Alexander as they entered the ballroom of the new Lord Hartford.

“The Duke and Duchess of Silverton,” they were announced, and all eyes turned to them. Madeleine’s stomach swooped.

That evening, Emily had bejeweled her in silver to match her glimmering dress, and to match Alexander’s cravat.

The weight of everybody’s eyes fell on her shoulders, forcing her smaller.

Gripping Alexander’s arm, fully aware of how she appeared, Madeleine forced herself to move but she struggled.

Alexander brushed his mouth over her ear.

“Your gowns are armor,” he told her. “Your jewels are weapons. Let them be your defenses against everybody. You are beautiful, Madeleine, and you shine tonight.”

She nodded, the movement barely visible, but let her husband guide her deeper into the ballroom. Her intrusive thoughts crowded her—that a disgraced woman such as she was ruining a powerful, well-respected man. Even if they respected Alexander’s authority, she could not help that she was destroying him along with her.

But his presence at her side was comforting. He had chosen to keep her beside him.

I should trust that .

“Our hosts are right over there,” he told her, nodding to the far corner, where a couple laughed, clutching their wine glasses, speaking with another couple. “We shall greet them.”

He brought her closer, and Madeleine’s palms sweated beneath her gloves.

“Lord and Lady Hartford,” Alexander greeted, gaining their attention. The couple they had been speaking to quickly took one look at Madeleine, and slunk away. “How lovely of you to invite us tonight. The ballroom looks spectacular.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Lord Hartford said. “It is an honor to have the Duke of Silverton present here tonight.” His sharp gaze slid to Madeleine. “Duchess.”

His greeting to her was clipped, reluctant but polite.

“Lord Hartford,” she answered. “Lady Hartford. Your ball is stunning. I am sure that it will be a testament to your impression made here.”

“Undoubtedly,” Lady Hartford muttered, turning her nose up at Madeleine.

“Lord and Lady Hartford, I will remind you that Madeleine is my Duchess, and she is to be treated with the same respect as me. If you cannot do that, then we will excuse ourselves, and you may explain why the Duke of Silverton found your ball unfit enough to leave.”

Lord Hartford paled, knowing tonight would solidify or weaken his standing in the ton .

“Of course,” he said quickly, turning back to Madeleine. “I am sorry, Your Grace. It is an honor to have you here.”

“I am sorry, also, Your Grace,” Lady Hartford said, her cheeks coloring. “Thank you for your gracious compliment.”

Before Madeleine could bite back her harsh retort, another woman swanned into the fray, her feathered, pretty dress taking up what felt like all space next to Madeleine.

“Ah, Lady Rowthern!” Lady Hartford said, her voice much brighter. “I am so glad you could make it tonight. Lady Rowthern, this is the Duke and Duchess of Silverton. Your Graces, this is Lady Rowthern.”

“And I am sure the Marquess is somewhere near the wine table,” Lady Rowthern laughed. “It is lovely to meet you, Your Graces. I have… heard much about you.”

Her gaze lingered on Madeleine with something Madeleine couldn’t quite detect. They curtsied to one another regardless.

“Do excuse us,” Lord Hartford said. “We must greet our other guests.”

He led his wife away, leaving Madeleine and Alexander facing Lady Rowthern.

“On the subject of hearing much about you,” Lady Rowthern said, “congratulations on your marriage, Duchess.” Although her words were courteous enough, there was a note of sarcasm that Madeleine detected. “I do hope your husband is treating you… well.”

Madeleine suppressed her shock at the hostility, biting her tongue. “Yes, thank you. We have adjusted.”

Alexander’s hand rested on her waist, his fingertips pressing hard, keeping her grounded, a support for anybody looking.

Lady Rowthern’s eyes dropped to the touch. Her mouth opened but Alexander drew Madeleine closer.

“I see our friends. Excuse us, my lady,” he told her, and drew her away, letting them get lost in the crowd to avoid the lady.

“Where are our fr?—”

“I do not like that woman or how she spoke to you.” He was sharply-spoken, his eyes hard as he glanced behind them.

Soon, he stopped them on the fringe of the floor. “Dance with me, Madeleine.”

Her breath caught before she nodded. Alexander led her to the floor, his eyes sparkling beneath the chandelier that swung above them.

The music swelled, and Alexander pulled her closer, his hand still on her waist. Her own settled on his shoulders, and she could barely control her breathing as he began to sweep her around the floor, weaving her in and out of the other couples.

His chest was almost pressed to hers, a mirror of their moment against the desk a week ago. Her head grew pleasantly dizzy, and her arousal peaked once again at how he never once took his eyes off her.

Her frustration grew alongside her arousal, wishing to be alone with him, and wishing to not be so timid whenever she got the chance.

Alexander’s breath fanned over the base of her neck, and she shivered beneath the closeness and intensity of her husband. Her whole body was drawn to him.

“You dance very well,” Alexander said, mouth almost brushing the shell of her ear. “But clearly you have not been danced with enough.”

“Do you find yourself wanting to make up for it?” she teased.

“Yes.”

The blunt honesty had her almost stumbling through the next step but Madeleine regained her composure. She smiled up at him, and for a brief, beautiful moment, the ballroom faded away.

No more gossip, or stares—only her husband who had saved her from a terrible fate, and who saw her.

The dance swiftly ended, and she almost mourned the loss of his closeness as they parted and left the dancefloor.

Madeleine snuck a look at Lady Rowthern, finding her engaged with whom she thought was the marquess, trying not to be surprised at how old the man was.

“There is Lord Banbury and Lady Anna.” Alexander nodded at the couple that was celebrated at the last ball they had attended. “Did you know that I encouraged him to speak with her?”

“Truly?” Madeleine asked, surprised. “You are Cupid, then?”

“Something of the sort,” he joked. “Her father is not happy. Their courtship hangs in the balance.”

“How do you know? Are you friends with Lord Banbury, or is he another acquaintance?”

Something like surprise crossed Alexander’s face before he shut down. “I simply know.”

She could not help but know where Alexander knew such information from when he barely ever left Silverton.

“You intrigue me a great deal,” she laughed, feeling the weight of the room’s attention lift for a moment.

He cocked his head at her. “You intrigue me constantly.”

That silenced her.

Moments later, a flash of red hair filled her vision, a spring-green dress twirling around, and then Tessa was there, embracing her.

“I did not think I would see you tonight!” Tessa said happily. “I am so glad you came.” She curtsied to Alexander, her expression guarded. “Your Grace. I do hope you are taking care of my friend.”

Her tone was light but Madeleine remembered Tessa’s warning for her wedding.

“He has done nothing else,” she promised.

Colin stood forward and clapped Alexander on the shoulder. “Your Grace! We had such a good chat during the last ball. Come, I see the Duke of Kingswell over there, parading himself around. Let me witness the battle of the dukes.”

He gave a short laugh at his own joke before leading Alexander away.

Madeleine was fixed with one last long look by her husband, and she had the sense that Colin was leaving Tessa and her to talk in private, as he had during the last ball.

“Shall we take a turn around the room?” Tessa asked. “Come, let us do so, as we did in our debutante days.”

Madeleine managed a small laugh. “We are far from those days.”

“Indeed. You are twice married.”

“I do not need so stark a reminder.” She tried to joke but her voice was too sharp. She winced. “I only mean?—”

“I know, and I am sorry.” They began to walk around the ballroom. “How have you been, Madeleine, truly?”

“I… I have been well enough but this gossiping, Donald’s death, and my quick remarriage… it weighs on my soul. I cannot endure it for much longer. Alexander truly is protecting me, though, Tessa. He makes me feel braver than I am.”

“You do not need a man to remind you of that.”

“No, but lately my own courage alone has not been enough, and I am grateful for his support.”

Tessa nodded but said nothing.

“How have you been?” Madeleine asked her friend.

“Very well,” she answered. “Colin and I have been discussing expanding his businesses. He is not sure of the direction he wishes to go in but…”

Madeleine could not focus on the rest of her friend’s information, for she noticed the whispers gathering around her.

With Alexander gone from her side, she was as vulnerable as she ever had been.

“I cannot believe she would show her face,” one lady muttered, a judging scowl thrown in Madeleine’s direction.

“Lady Josephine!” the lady’s friend admonished. “She is the Duchess of Silverton.”

Madeleine cringed, trying not to look as though she could hear them.

Lady Josephine made a snorting noise of nonchalance. “Well, Lady Danielle, she was not proper when she had an affair.”

Both ladies looked at her, then. Even Lady Danielle, who had marginally stood up for her, sneered. “An affair?”

“Madeleine.” Tessa’s voice was a faint beacon amidst the storm of gossip. “Come. You do not have to listen to this.”

“I do,” she whispered, her hands clenched to her stomach. “I must know what people speculate.”

“You did not know the origins of Her Grace’s second marriage?” Lady Josephine continued, mindless of Tessa’s or Madeleine’s presence. “They were having an affair behind Lord Kinsfeld’s back! The poor man.”

“I heard it was Lord Kinsfeld that had the affair.”

“I would not blame him,” Lady Josephine scoffed. “Why wouldn’t he look elsewhere for affection? His wife’s was already taken.”

“Heavens above,” Lady Danielle whispered.

Chest tight with shame and emotion threatening to spill over, Madeleine hardened herself—or attempted to.

“Madeleine, please,” Tessa asked. “Do not endure this.”

But even when Tessa pulled her away from the two ladies, she only found herself with more eyes on her. More whispers—how she and Alexander had plotted to kill Donald, for the sake of being together and taking his fortune—followed her.

Her eyes welled with tears. None of it was true—from an affair to any Kinsfeld fortune.

None of these gossipers know what they are speaking about , she reminded herself, but it did little to calm her down.

She felt watched, criticized, no matter where she turned.

She thought of the soiree, the open gossip, the questions, the snide remarks, and she knew she could not endure this for much longer.

Where was Alexander? She craved his protection, his ability to shut down any gossip and disrespect. She was the Duchess; everybody was ill-minded to not respect her.

“Do you wish to go home?” Tessa inquired. “I can fetch Alexander.”

She shook her head. “No. I imagine that would only make them feel better about themselves. I wish them to think that I do not care and will continue attending events.”

Still, her skin prickled with the stares around her. People scarcely moved for them to walk through to continue their turn around the room.

“Keep your chin up, Madeleine.” Tessa squeezed her hand. “You are stronger than you give yourself credit for. And although your husband will protect you I will always be here for you, too. When you cannot keep your own chin up, let me help you.”

Madeleine’s chest softened. “Thank you.”