Chapter 38

Chapter Thirty-Eight

“ A lexander,” Madeleine called out, rushing forward to her husband standing on the pier, beneath a streetlamp.

The shadows toyed with his hair, but even as she squinted at his figure, she began to slow down.

Why would he not turn to her?

Only feet away, Madeleine realized slowly that it was not her husband.

Dread filled her heart.

No—it was not Alexander at all.

She began to take a step back but the man turned to her, grinning.

“Hello, Madeleine. Did you miss me?”

Her voice was lost as she stared, feeling light-headed, as she looked at her late husband. Or a man who should have been her late husband. And yet he was very much alive, beady eyes looking her up and down.

“My, my, I did not forget how beautiful you were. It is a shame I did not sample such glorious goods when you were my wife. Or perhaps you are dressing differently for the Duke of Silverton, hm?”

Madeleine stood there, her heart racing, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to find words.

“Word spread through London that the bastard did not wait even three days to marry you. There is a word for women like you, darling, but it is not very nice. Alexander gave me a rather hard punch for applying it to you.”

Alexander .

He knew Donald was alive?

How long had he known?

Heavens—her heart stopped as she thought. Did the time he knew go all the way back to that horrible night?

It was that thought that had her snapping into action.

“What did you do?” she demanded.

“Ah, you have found your voice,” Donald laughed. “I thought he had made you mute. Either that or you are too overjoyed to know I am actually alive and well.”

“Overjoyed is the furthest thing from my emotions,” Madeleine hissed, stepping back.

“I have been watching you, Madeleine,” Donald continued, walking to her with his hands behind his back, as if they were out for a casual stroll.

Madeleine’s back hit the pier railing, and her breath caught.

“Your hosts are very protective and persistent, are they not? I thought they would never leave. I imagine the Dowager Countess of Easthall will get a surprise when they turn up on her doorstep, uninvited.”

It was then that Madeleine realized that Donald had forged both notes to get Tessa and Colin away, and her here.

Horror spread through her. He had already gone to such lengths to fake his death—what more would he do? A glimmer of mania showed in his eyes as his grin broadened.

“However, I care little for them. Madeleine, you were supposed to sort everything out for me. The debts, darling, they should have been paid by you in my stead. You have money from your brother, do you not? I hear Lord Halthorpe is quite wealthy. Your father gave me a rather handsome dowry along with your hand in marriage, and if your brother has inherited such wealth then…”

Donald inhaled, as if thinking hard.

“Then again, your husband has many lucrative businesses. One of them the most popular gambling establishment in London. Surely you can afford to give me just one measly payment among all the profit your husband makes.”

Madeleine’s hands trembled with fear.

The pier was completely empty, and there was nobody around to hear her if she screamed. Still, she stood her guard. She had spent weeks, months, rebuilding her strength. She would not let that falter now.

“I will not give you a penny,” she said. “Not of my brother’s money, nor my husband’s. You damned yourself, Donald. They are your debts, not mine.”

“See, I thought by leaving you with them they would be quietly handled.” Donald sighed. “Never mind. I shall have my payment another way, then.”

Madeleine snarled at him, feeling the railing press into her back. She moved discreetly sideways. “Alexander will come for you, Donald. Do not try anything.”

“Oh, will he, truly? Your husband thinks he has eliminated me as a threat. Do you not see the bruises on my face? They were delivered by your lovely husband.”

Madeleine gulped.

“See, he is not so innocent, is he? Then again, the owner of a fierce gambling hell could not afford to be cowardly and soft. So, no, I do not think he will come for me, or to save you. After all, he already has tried, has he not? He left you vulnerable, my dear.”

Madeleine tried to think fast. “I am armed.”

“Oh, but my dear… I like my women when they fight back,” Donald laughed, and then lunged for her.

With Madeleine not at John’s residence—Alexander knowing exactly why, and his guilt deepening for that act of protecting Alexander from her brother’s wrath if he had taken their argument badly—Alexander thought of the only other place his wife would go.

The Easthalls.

He knew how much solace Madeleine found in Tessa. The earl and countess would provide her with support and a place to reside.

He rode hard to the Easthalls’ townhouse, hoping he was not too late to throw himself to the floor before his wife and beg for forgiveness if that was what it took.

Pounding on the door to the Easthalls estate, Alexander waited breathlessly. As soon as the butler opened the door, Alexander was already trying to push in. “Where is my wife?”

“The Duchess of Silverton is not here, Your Grace.”

“Tell me where she is.” Worry spiked through him. What if John was right, and the only time he could protect Madeleine was when she was at his side? He had simply let her go, let her fend for herself. Heavens, he was a fool.

“I do not know, Your Grace. All I know is that she received a note, then she went to her guest chamber to ready herself, and she left only with a horse. No carriage.”

Alexander’s chest tightened, his breath shortening. “Take me to her chamber.”

When he was led up there, he immediately snatched up the note. He saw the notably nice handwriting but it was not his own despite his name being signed. Yet he had seen the penmanship many times on contracts.

Donald Cluett.

Without another word, Alexander ran out of the door and back onto his horse, racing like the hounds chased him, heading for the West Pier.

“Do you not miss me, Madeleine? Why do you cower from me, hm?”

Madeleine angled her head away from Donald, who leered at her, his smile utterly sardonic. He enjoyed intimidating her in such ways. “Get away from me!”

“I thought you were armed,” he laughed. “Fight me off at any moment, Madeleine. Where is your spirit? Or did I break it like our marriage?”

Revulsion ran through her. “You are pathetic, Donald. I was glad for all those nights spent alone, for I did not have to endure your company. No, you were enjoying the company of other women, were you not?”

“Jealous?”

“Not at all,” she laughed. “I pity you. I pity Nellie Trent, and I pity Lady Rowthern, for they truly thought you were in love with them.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes, and she knew she had ensnared him in his own stories. He was worried about being found out even further. “They were nothing but whores,” he snapped.

“That is what you love to call women when you are finished with them, is it not?” Madeleine snapped. “They were deceived by you.”

“I do not care for them.” Donald waved his hand dismissively, his lip curling. “They were dim-witted, idiotic, starry-eyed. They were so foolish they could not see past their own greed. They did not even hesitate when I presented them with your dresses and your jewels, Madeleine, so do not pity them.”

“They were victims of your ruthless behavior,” Madeleine accused. “I care little for either of them but I do care that you have hurt people.”

“Frankly, darling, I do not care about any of you.” Donald laughed, spiraling and uncontrolled. “With my new money I have acquired, and the payment you shall provide me to keep my distance, I will leave for America. I will start a new life away from all of you chits.”

Madeleine only shook her head. “I will not be giving you any money. You have taken enough of what is not yours.”

Donald snarled, his lip curling. “You infuriate me,” he spat. “My patience wears thin, Madeleine. I will have my payment immediately.”

“No.”

Donald shot forward, snatching her wrist. He yanked her hard enough that she stumbled into him. “No? You dare to refuse me? I will not ask twice.”

Madeleine’s heart raced. All she could see was Donald’s face filling her vision. His breathing was labored, his face red with anger.

“Get your hands off my wife.”

The threat came through the darkness, and Madeleine blinked into the illumination from the streetlight, watching as Alexander came into view.

His voice was sheer velvet to her, and her heart sang.

She almost wept at the sight of him, at the thump of his boots hitting the ground as he stalked towards Donald.

Donald smirked, turning to Alexander. “Well, well. If it is not the hero, come to rescue his damsel in distress. How predictable.”

With his attention turned, Madeleine saw her chance. She slipped aside him and ran to Alexander. Immediately, he tucked a hand against her waist and pulled her behind him.

“I am unharmed,” she murmured, only for him.

He gave a short nod. For a moment, all she could see was his handsome profile, the anger hardening his eyes. The protective grip he had on her moments before he pulled away was the fiercest thing she had ever felt.

“You will not get away with this, Donald,” Alexander growled. Madeleine let go of her hold on her husband as he stepped forward.

Seeing Donald take hold of his wife had sent Alexander into a flair of protection, his movements swift and fueled with fury at any harm coming to Madeleine. But now she was behind him—she was safe , and it was because of him.

He would keep her safe, no matter the cost.

Donald cocked his head at Alexander. “Oh, Your Grace, I think you will find I already have gotten away with it.”

A blade glinted in the lamplight that lit up the pier. Donald wielded a knife through the air, arching it towards Alexander—towards Madeleine.

“Madeleine, get back!” Alexander cried out and dived for the other man.

They fell together, the wooden planks beneath them of the pier groaning.

Donald got to his feet first as Alexander tried to avoid the frantic movements of Donald’s knife. He immediately had his back to the street, facing the end of the pier.

Alexander quickly stood and snatched Donald’s wrist in a vice. The man cried out, dropping the knife immediately.

Before Alexander could sweep it up, Donald lunged for him. “I owe you a few blows, do I not?”

“Do not try to fight me, Donald. You will lose.”

“I do not think I will.”

Alexander backed away from Donald, trying to gain distance should the man make any sudden movements. The planks groaned, and Alexander soon felt a wooden barrier pressing into his back. He was at the edge of the pier.

He tried to shove off, away from it, but Donald was there, and a fist slammed into Alexander’s face. He groaned and composed himself quickly.

“I have heard you have grown soft in your marriage,” Donald taunted. “Where is that fighting spirit, Your Grace?”

“Did you not receive a hard enough beating last week?” Alexander spat.

His fist aimed for Donald’s mouth but caught him in the jaw instead. Donald’s head snapped sideways as he stumbled.

Alexander took the reeling moment to ensure that Madeleine was still at the other end. She had a hand clasped over her mouth.

Alexander nodded at her—they were fine; she was safe. This would all be over soon.

But Donald came at him again, shouting his rage, as he drove his fingers into Alexander’s throat, trying to choke him.

Alexander struggled against it, fighting back as he punched and kicked out, landing blows wherever he could. Donald grunted but didn’t let up.

With the grip on Alexander’s throat, Donald shoved at him with all his might. With a start, Alexander realized he was trying to push him into the crashing water below.

He only glared back at the older man, forcing him back. Alexander heard the bones in Donald’s wrist crack with the pressure he gripped the hold on his neck with. He forced Donald off him and instead slammed him into the railing. It cracked beneath the force. Alexander held him there with an iron grip.

“You are finished, Donald. You have nothing left.”

Donald’s eyes widened, panic flashing through them as if he realized Alexander spoke the truth. “I— no .”

The snarl came out in a bid of desperation as he tried to jerk to the sound, attempting to pull Alexander with him.

Their joint force snapped the wooden railing completely, but Alexander stood his ground.

Donald lost his balance.

Alexander let go of his hold on him, watching as the man’s arms pinwheeled, a cry leaving him as he stumbled back. His heel caught on the edge of the pier and he disappeared over the edge.

Alexander gripped another part of the railing, watching as Donald plunged to the water below.

A smack resounded horribly as Donald hit his head on a rock as he fell, his body limply slamming into the waves. The water tossed and churned Donald Cluett.

He was dragged under, lifeless and unmoving.