Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

“ D o you know this artist?”

Madeleine looked across to the voice that appeared next to her, recognizing it immediately.

“Colin!”

She embraced her friend, her eyes immediately sweeping for Tessa.

“She is with my mother,” he explained. “But she sent me ahead to greet you. She said it was not right for you to be alone.” Colin flashed a grin. “Where is His Grace?”

“He recognized the artist and got into a conversation with him,” Madeleine told him, pointing out Alexander further into the crowd. “I wished to continue exploring.”

She did not mention that she was trying to navigate the art exhibit alone for a while, for she could not always rely on Alexander to come to her aid.

Ignoring the gossip was something she had endured for some time. She could continue to do it.

“The exploration goes well, it seems.” Colin nodded towards the painting they stood at. “So, this artist.”

“It is an Italian artist, is it not?” Madeleine asked. “It is rather suggestive, I must admit.”

Colin barked a laugh. “Indeed it is. It is named the Rising Swell but I do believe it should be called The Swell of the Stroke .”

He snorted another laugh, and they both cocked their heads, trying to work out the angle of the group depicted in the painting.

“I say, is that man upon the woman… do you think the artist was trying to, er…?”

Madeleine could not help her burst of laughter.

“Heavens, do not let Tessa see such a thing, or she will find me severely lacking.”

“Colin!” Madeleine half-scolded, half-snorted in laughter.

Oh, she had missed her friends.

No matter how much she loved being with Alexander, she had truly missed Colin’s particular humor.

“You are bold,” she told him.

“Have I not always been? I simply am living up to my reputation, I believe.”

“That you are,” Tessa’s voice joined them, and Madeleine whirled around to hug her friend while Colin took his mother’s arm.

“Tessa!”

“Madeleine.” Tessa squeezed her hands. “How have you been?”

“I have been…” Madeleine let out a happy sigh. “I have been very well.”

“With the Duke of Silverton?” Her friend looked doubtful. “The very man I warned you of?”

“I do not know why you needed to warn me,” Madeleine tutted. “He is remarkable once you get to know him. I believe the stoic exterior hides a softer man beneath. However, do not mention I said such a thing. We have grown closer recently, Tessa. I do not see what could be so dangerous about him.”

She kept his dark tastes to herself, for that would be the only dangerous thing about him, and the only danger he posed was giving her a sleepless night from endless pleasure.

A smile played on her lips at the thought.

“I have heard rumors, that is all.”

“What sort of rumors?”

“That he is involved in some unsavory businesses. That he… well, that he has a secret identity that he keeps concealed so he may continue his businesses without confessing.”

Madeleine shook her head. “I am sure it is nothing but a rumor. After all, if everybody believed the rumors about me, I would be a murderer and an adulteress.”

The words pierced her chest, hurting to even think of them in regard to herself.

Tessa nodded, despite not looking convinced. “You are correct. If you are happy, Madeleine, then I am happy for you.”

“I am happy,” she insisted. “I am happier than I have quite possibly ever been. His Grace understands me.”

Over Tessa’s shoulder, she looked at Alexander, who looked up as if he felt her gaze on him. Across the art gallery, their eyes met.

In the center of the room was a statue of an old goddess of love and adoration, and Madeleine had the strangest desire to approach the statue, with Alexander approaching from the other side.

They would meet in the middle and she would feel as though she was in a theater play, caught under the spell of the man she was falling for, while the rest of the world faded away.

“Ah, if it isn’t the Duchess of Silverton.”

A high, shrill voice cut through her silly daydream, and Madeleine whirled around, her eyes narrowing on a woman who approached their group.

Her stomach fell. It was Lady Bastian, her mouth pinched and her nasty, beady eyes set on Madeleine.

“It has been some time since I had the pleasure of speaking with you. How are you?” the lady asked.

“I am well, Lady Bastian,” Madeleine told her, lifting her chin. “How are you?”

“ Very well,” the other woman answered. “I am surprised you are here alone, however. Where is your second husband?”

Second husband . The unnecessary clarification struck Madeleine even though she refused to show it.

“My husband is speaking with an artist,” she answered tightly.

“Ah. For a moment, I thought he had met the same fate as the former Lord Kinsfeld.” Lady Bastian giggled.

Colin stepped forward, a scowl on his face and his lips parted to argue, but she stopped him with a shake of her head.

“You do know what everybody says, do you not?” Lady Bastian continued, “They say it is only a matter of time before another man catches your eye, and the Duke of Silverton will meet his end so you have a free path, just as you did this time.”

“Lady Bastian,” Madeleine began, “You cannot honestly believe this gossip to be true? Do you think me capable of killing my late husband?”

For a moment, Lady Bastian looked doubtful, but she easily plastered on a fake smile.

“Who knows? His Grace certainly could be. I imagine he has killed before. Surely you heard the rumors about his fight at the Raven’s Den some time ago? Many say the fight was rather brutal, and it was His Grace that was right in the middle.”

“How dare you—” Tessa began to protest but Madeleine squeezed her friend’s hand.

Now wasn’t the time for a scene.

“My, my, Duchess, two husbands by the age of twenty, and neither of them very reputable men at all,” Lady Bastian continued, “Will you acquire a third when you realize the true nature of the Duke of Silverton? Perhaps it is not too questionable if you do what people speculate of you.”

Madeleine gritted her teeth, her jaw clenching for a moment as she steeled herself.

She thought of the night Alexander had come home bloodied and allowed her to get close enough to dress his wounds. He had not explained, and perhaps she should have pressed further that night.

She should have found out why, exactly, he had been in a fight. He had referenced the incident as rendering him no better than a thug, and he’d been displeased, a twisted snarl on his face as he’d avoided the topic.

Giving herself a smile that was as false as Lady Bastian’s, Madeleine stepped closer to the lady.

“Lady Bastian, if we should all listen to gossip and treat it as the truth, then it seems you are questionable in your own way, as well. Tell me, is it true you were unfaithful to Lord Bastian at the winter ball mere months ago? A musician, was it not?”

Madeleine noticed the blood drain from the woman’s face.

“Young, handsome, particularly interested in an older woman such as yourself. I am sure if it not true, you would not want people believing so,” Madeleine spoke slowly, “Though of course, people would not blame you. Lord Bastian is rather dull, is he not? But I am sure it is not true. It could be merest speculation.”

Lady Bastian’s expression flickered from shock to anger, her lip curling. “Tread carefully, Madeleine . You were not always a duchess.”

“No,” she agreed. “I was not. But I am now, so it is you who should tread carefully. I can and will use the power I have to see you ruined. Furthermore, my husband can ruin your poor, unknowing husband. And my friends here can ensure those rumors are proven right, I am sure.”

“You—you!” Lady Bastian cried, stepping back.

Madeleine was aware of the small crowd that had gathered. Among them was Lord Bastian approaching with Alexander and the artist, everybody looking bewildered at what had occurred.

“It is your decision, Lady Bastian. I do not stand to lose anything, for the rumors about me are untrue.” Madeleine’s threat rang clear, unabashed.

She caught Alexander’s gaze for a moment, and the look on his face had heat licking through her. He looked impressed, as if her straight spine and lifted chin ignited something in him.

Lady Bastian stepped back further before curtseying. “Enjoy the exhibit, Your Grace.”

Hurriedly, she left, disappearing into the crowd, followed by Lord Bastian.

“Nicely handled,” Tessa told Madeleine.

“Truth be told, my hands are trembling,” Madeleine confessed, laughing at her own foolishness. “She is a wretched woman.”

Before she could say anything further, a shadow fell over her.

“Duchess.”

Madeleine lifted her gaze to find her husband looking down at her. “I would like to show you a painting.”

He looked at Colin and Tessa, nodding in greeting and farewell in one.

“Of course,” Madeleine told him, her voice quiet.

He began to pull her away, past the thick of the crowd.

Perhaps he would dislike her making such a spectacle of herself. Perhaps he would rebuke her. Perhaps he was proud but also?—

“There is a side room off to the right of the next gallery room,” he told her in a low voice in her ear. “You are going to go in there, and I will be behind you swiftly, but I wish to find you on your knees, Duchess.”

“I—”

“Do you agree to this arrangement?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her stomach curling at the thrill of his desire deepening his voice in his commands.

“Good.”

He nudged her ahead and Madeleine took no time at all to cross into the next gallery room, hearing his striding steps behind her.

There was a small wooden door to the right side as Alexander had promised. She slipped through it, not daring to glance around her.

Once inside, she hovered, counting her own pounding heartbeats. She paced, her back to the door.

It looked as though it was some sort of study, a large painting above the mantlepiece, and a desk adjacent to it. A chair faced away from the window, looking into the room.

Madeleine eventually leaned against the desk.

“I told you to be on your knees.”

Alexander’s voice had her whirling around. “I—I did not think you were serious.”

“When have I ever not been? You agreed to the arrangement, did you not?”

He stalked towards her, eyes intent. “Yes.”

“Then, Duchess.” He stopped before her. “On. Your. Knees.”

Madeleine did, following the command willingly. Her eyes peered up at her husband, her lower lip trembling as his hands fell to the fastenings of his breeches.

With one hand, he freed himself. With his other, he brushed over her full cheek.

“You are so very pretty,” he told her. “I wonder how much prettier you will be when you take me in your mouth.”

Her sharp inhale gave away her surprise. “I have not done this before.”

“That is why I will go slowly.”

“I do not need slow,” she said, finding herself unable to look away from how intense he looked.

He towered over her, his hair loose but combed through, his eyes bright with lust, and his glorious length in his hand. She found she craved to taste.

“I need you?—”

“Do not rush,” he told her, guiding his length to her lips.

She was surprised at the soft texture of the head.

“Please,” she begged. “Let me pleasure you, husband.”

She saw the way his length twitched, and her own ache between her legs built.

Gently at first, he pushed the head of his length beyond her lips, and she suckled. And then Alexander pushed further, the shaft hard and thick on her tongue, and she moaned softly. Her eyes cast upwards, meeting his that gazed down at her.

“Seeing how you spoke back to that wretched woman,” Alexander murmured, carding his fingers through her hair, careful not to mess it up too much.

“It did this to me, Madeleine. It made me need you so immediately I could not wait to get you home. It was either this, or I’d touch you under your skirts in the carriage till you screamed.”

Madeleine’s sharp intake of breath through her nose was the only way she could answer. She muffled another pleasured sound.

“You may touch yourself,” Alexander’s voice was breathier as he slid in all the way into her mouth. “I want to know if this brings you pleasure. But by the look in your eyes, it does.”

Her eyes felt heavy as she let herself be used in such ways, and heat licked through her, as thorough as a lover.

Alexander grasped the sides of her face, bracing her as he slid back out, and then in, the usual rocking he did to thrust into her heat now transferred to her mouth.

She barely had to do anything, for he guided her through it, taking what he needed, and Madeleine, in a most scandalous position on her knees, felt heavenly for her husband doing this.

His mouth hung open in pleasure, his head tipped back. He hissed whenever she gave an explorative flick of her tongue upon his length, around the tip, and she cupped the very base of him with his head to hear his muffled groan.

“You are—a fast—learner,” he choked out. “I am close already, wife.”

She ached to tell him to reach his climax but she craved to have him in her mouth instead, so she merely bobbed her head faster, bringing him closer to his finish.

And when he did, he pulled free, emptying himself onto a tissue, and she watched, wondering how her husband might have tasted.

Another time , she thought.

As he helped her up, his chest heaved, and she pressed a hand to feel his racing heart.

Tucking himself back into his breeches, he fixed her with a hot stare.

“Duchess, I believe I shall ruin you in the carriage after all.”

“You wish to leave the event?”

“Oh, no. I have looked forward to this. I want to leave you aching. I want to leave you wild with desire. I wish to look at you every moment and know you are desperate to leave, desperate to have me. Wondering whether I will choose my tongue or my fingers in the carriage.”

He stepped closer, grasping her chin roughly, before he kissed her breathless.

When he pulled away, she was dizzy, and her knees ached blissfully.

“The way you spoke to Lady Bastian is how you must speak to everybody who dares say anything against you. I will not stand for it, and I am glad to see you will not.” He all but growled the words, and she nodded, pulling him down for another kiss.

He wrapped her up in his arms, pulling her flush against him.

“I am enamored with you, Duchess,” he murmured, parting from her mouth. “I am still working out how to tell you, in all the ways I wish. Please be patient with me, as I am with you.”

“I will,” she whispered. There was something in his eyes that she could not understand. “You have your secrets. And I will wait for you to be ready. It eats at me, Alexander, but I would rather keep your trust and wait for you to tell me yourself, in your own words.”

He nodded, taking her hand to tuck into the crook of his elbow. And although she meant her words, she also could not help but wonder if there was any truth in Lady Bastian’s words about her husband.

Had he killed anybody? It would certainly make sense as to why Tessa thought he was dangerous. And why had he frequented gambling hells without telling her when he was starting to know, had already known, what she had endured with her former husband?

Her mind spun with thoughts but when Alexander met her gaze before they emerged back into the gallery, she pinned a smile on her face.

I will find out when he is ready , she told herself, although she itched to know more.