Chapter 6

Chapter Six

“ Y our Grace,” Mr. Barrington said, clearing his throat. “I was only warning Lady Kinsfeld against disrupting the games.”

Madeleine whirled around, coming face-to-face with the Duke of Silverton.

Her breath hitched as her chest tightened, the suddenness of his proximity making her heart pound like a frantic drum. His masculine scent clung to him, wrapping around her senses with an intimacy that felt almost unbearable.

His piercing blue eyes locked onto hers, sharp and unrelenting, and a rush of heat flared across her skin, spreading from her cheeks down to the hollow of her throat.

It wasn’t just his nearness—it was the sheer force of his presence, the way he seemed to take up all the air in the room, leaving her struggling to draw a full breath.

Her throat caught, dry and constricted, as a surge of anger, embarrassment, and something far more dangerous roared through her veins.

“Your warning is noted, Barrington. Now keep your focus on the games and leave Lady Kinsfeld to me,” the Duke’s voice was hard, leaving no room for argument.

“Of course, Your Grace. Lady Kinsfeld, if you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask.”

Before she could say anything, the manager of the Golden Hand nodded and retreated.

Madeleine felt the Duke’s hand on the small of her back, the heat of his touch radiating through the thin fabric of her gown.

Her chest tightened, and a jolt of awareness coursed through her, sharp and disorienting. His palm rested there with firmness and ease—infuriatingly so—sending a ripple of sensation down her spine that left her toes curling in her shoes.

Her heart thudded faster, the air between them charged with something she couldn’t quite name—or didn’t dare to.

As he guided her away from the staircase and toward another corner of the hall, her skin burned where his hand lingered.

She pulled away as soon as they stopped behind a large pillar. Aware of interested eyes on them, she forced herself to remain straight and composed.

She would not cower before the Duke of Silverton.

“Are you following me, Lady Kinsfeld?”

A hint of amusement danced over the man’s face as he looked down at her, his hands clasped behind his back.

“How very presumptuous of you,” she muttered, and louder, she added, “you did not believe me about not knowing where my husband is, yet I am looking for him. What is it you are doing?”

“Exactly the same as you claim. Although, I do think you should leave the investigating to me. Perhaps you should go back to lingering in doorways,” his voice was quieter when he teased, as if he knew they could not be overheard.

Madeleine glowered at him. “I will not leave until I see the truth for myself.”

“Do you not think you should thank me for rescuing you?” His question came abruptly.

“I do not need rescuing, Your Grace,” she snapped. “Mr. Barrington was unpleasant, but not unmanageable. I am not a maiden in need of saving.”

“Are you now?” His eyes glimmered beneath the chandelier with amusement again.

“Do you see my husband?” she asked hotly. “No. Yet you see me . That proves me capable of fending for myself.”

The Duke snorted as he looked around. “You have done so on the back of your husband’s provisions. What if he has disappeared for good, Lady Kinsfeld? What sort of saving yourself will you be able to do?”

That had her quiet. Angry, but quiet.

“Regardless, I do not believe you,” he continued.

“You still think I am covering for Lord Kinsfeld.”

“Yes.”

“And what do I have to gain from that, exactly, Your Grace?”

“His loyalty. Saving yourself from his anger if you reveal his hiding place. Of course, if his debts remain unpaid, you would benefit as you would not lose any possessions or funding. If he is forced to pay, then whose pretty jewels and dresses would be the first to go in order to settle the debts?”

Madeleine burned beneath his correct assumption but dared not confirm it. He gave her a long once-over, lingering on the silver thread on her dark blue dress.

“Your Grace, you are insinuating that I am a shallow wife,” she answered. “If I knew where my husband is, then—” She paused, thinking of the confirmation Mrs. Raleigh had given her of Lord Kinsfeld being seen with other women. “Then I would have my own troubles to settle with him.”

“Is that so?”

She saw it in his eyes—he knew what she did. And why.

He knows of my husband’s infidelity.

Yet he was sparing her the shame of acknowledging it, of facing it head-on, as he had saved her from Mr. Barrington’s words of humiliation, too.

It softened some of the anger in her, and she cleared her throat.

“That is so,” she replied, her voice icy and calm. “However, he does not seem to be here.”

The Duke swept his gaze around the room. “He does not. He is also not at the Clover, nor the Raven’s Den.”

Madeleine’s chest tightened, a gasp leaving her. “The Raven’s Den? He… he would be mixed up in such an establishment?”

“What sort of establishment is that?” A brow was raised at her.

Ah, he is a patron, I see .

“A notorious hive of debauchery, one understands. Similar to this one, but bigger, deeper. I have heard it has depths one cannot comprehend.”

“You make it sound very dark.”

“Are you insulted?” she challenged. “Is it a favorite haunt of yours?”

Something crossed the Duke’s face, as if he could not decide whether to be insulted or amused.

In the end, he shrugged, “It is not dark. It is a gambling hall, and that comes with its consequences.”

“Like my husband.”

“Exactly.”

“And fists, I imagine, when those debts do not get paid.”

“Not fists,” he answered, somewhat sharply. “Violence is not always the answer.” He frowned at the floor. “Too many men in our society are simply thugs. Words can solve things as easily as fists can. In fact, words get more issues resolved.”

Madeleine blinked, somewhat impressed by him, but begrudgingly so. “That is… a rare opinion.”

He paused, as if not knowing how to respond to that, until he started again. “If you truly do not know where your husband is, Lady Kinsfeld, then we should continue searching together. Two heads are better than one, do you not agree? Besides, you will need a chaperone for the sorts of unsavory places your husband visits.”

What has my husband gotten me involved with ? Madeleine asked herself despairingly.

How could she agree to such a thing? Her reputation among society was already under speculation—to sully it further by being seen with an unmarried man such as the Duke would do damage.

Investigating alone had its risks, and investigating with the Duke would be advantageous but… how could she risk it?

“I cannot be seen with an unmarried man,” she voiced. “Even to stand here with you is a risk. You have to fear nothing while I would risk everything.”

“Everything?” he echoed, laughing drily. “Lady Kinsfeld, this everything you speak of dwindles each day.” He paused, his mouth tightening. “However, I understand what you are saying. All right, I will continue on my own. In your best interests, I insist you return home immediately.”

“I still wish to find Lord Kinsfeld.”

He looked at her for a long, hard moment. Long enough for her palms to sweat, and her heartbeat to hasten.

“Then you have a choice to make so that I can accommodate you accordingly.” His voice was firm, almost intimidatingly so, but Madeleine held firmer.

“I wish to find him,” she said finally. “Protect me from any risks, and we can work together.”

“I will ensure that we are not conspicuous.”

After a moment, she nodded her agreement.

“Lord Kinsfeld knows he has staggering debts,” the Duke told her as they began to leave the Golden Hand. “He owes money to some questionable men, I believe. If the staff is loyal to him, they would also report on you leaving Kinsfeld House…”

He was thinking aloud, and Madeleine found herself somewhat captivated, the lull of his low, smooth voice.

“I managed to get information from our housekeeper, but his valet did not ever answer my questions properly. Perhaps he could still be in contact with him,” Madeleine chimed in.

The Duke nodded, “Mmhm. If his valet, as you say, has informed him then, Kinsfeld thinks you have left for the day, then he might return to collect some items from the house. Heirlooms, other jewels, anything valuable…”

He held open the door for her as if unthinking of the chivalry.

Madeleine kept up with his string of thoughts easily.

“We shall visit a jeweler,” he said finally. “I know of one who is known for pawning expensive goods as well as selling them. He might have conducted business with your husband.”

When they approached the jeweler’s shop, Alexander turned to Madeleine. “You will stay here so we are not seen together.”

Knowing he was right, she nodded, though her lips pressed into a thin, reluctant line. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her fingers digging into her elbows as if holding herself back from snapping at him.

The defiant lift of her chin and the flash of frustration in her eyes made it clear she was not happy with his decision. She wanted to argue—he could feel it in the tension radiating from her—but she held her tongue, likely for the same reason they both knew too well. Her reputation, already bruised by Donald’s actions, could not withstand another blow.

“I will be back shortly.” He held her gaze for a moment. He turned to leave and enter the shop but before he could, the owner Mr. Baxter saw him first and came running out of the shop.

“Your Grace!” he cried out, laughing nervously. Beneath his arm, he had a sheaf of paper tucked there, as if he knew who approached him. As if word had already traveled as he was prepared. “There is no need for you to enter. I do not wish to trouble you. Allow me to approach you.”

Alexander knew the man was trying to deflect any suspicious business on his doorstep. He nodded sharply, hovering just before the carriage.

“We are looking for Lord Kinsfeld. He would have brought some jewelry pieces to you recently to pawn.”

Immediately, the jeweler’s face shut down, replaced with a cool look. “I do not know a Lord Kinsfeld.”

“Oh,” Alexander drawled, “Oh, I do not believe you, Mr. Baxter.”

“I am afraid that is the truth, Your Grace.” The jeweler hissed the formal address at the end of the sentence. He was emboldened by not allowing the Duke into his shop.

“You would know if an earl came to do business with you, would you not?” Alexander pressed.

“Titles mean nothing to me,” the jeweler said recklessly. “That is why I do not know the lord you speak of. I have done no business with him.”

“How do you know you’ve done no business with him if you do not know him?” Alexander cocked his head, speaking slowly.

Mr. Baxter swallowed. Alexander towered over the other man, knowing full well he was being lied to.

“I-I have heard of him. I do not know him personally to have done business with him, I meant,” Mr. Baxter stammered, his voice wavering under Alexander’s iron gaze.

“Do not test my patience, Mr. Baxter,” Alexander warned, his voice low and controlled. “If you’re lying, I will know. Now, tell me the truth, or we will be done here.”

“Please,” Mr. Baxter said quietly. “I do not wish to get involved. I only… retain the items for a time.”

“Mr. Baxter,” Alexander continued, “you have a reputable business here. You deal in very expensive goods. You have customers who pawn their heirlooms and priceless jewels, and ask for their receipts to collect them a week later. You surely mean to lie to my face and tell me that you do not remember a Lord Kinsfeld coming into your shop recently?”

“I do not.”

Alexander laughed quietly. “I see. Well, thank you for your lack of cooperation. I shall ensure the ton hear of it. And Mr. Baxter? If you breathe a word of me and my companion coming here to ask about Lord Kinsfeld, I will see you out of business before you can argue against me.”

His intimidation was working. He could see the cracks spreading over the man’s facade. Mr. Baxter’s gaze flickered to the carriage, where Madeleine was pressed just out of view.

His eyes flashed, meeting Mr. Baxter’s. “It is a shame that your reputation could crumble so easily.”

He went to leave, grasping the door, when he heard the splutter of the man behind him.

“Your Grace, wait!”

He turned,. Mr. Baxter produced the papers tucked beneath his arm. “I—I have recalled this. In the heat of our discussion, I forgot I brought these with me, you see.”

“I am sure.” Alexander moved closer to him. “Tell me.”

“Lord Kinsfeld came in here months ago, and gave me a ring. A beautiful ring. He said it was meaningless, and he wished to rid himself of it, but his hands shook when he gave it to me. I always remember because he looked so desperate, and attempted to bargain me higher than the price I offered him for it. I know desperation, Your Grace, and Lord Kinsfeld reeked of it.”

“A ring?” Lady Kinsfeld asked quietly, showing her face. “What did it look like?”

“It was a diamond ring,” Mr. Baxter told them.

Beside him, Alexander felt Lady Kinsfeld stiffen, the catch of her breath. Unable to help himself, he glanced down at her hand—her empty left hand.

“A silver band, and there were small rubies inlaid around the diamond,” Mr. Baxter added.

Alexander was only glad the lady turned to leave before she saw the pitying grimace the jeweler gave her. Alexander all but growled at the look, warning him.

Alexander nodded. “Very well. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Baxter.” His words were dry. “I do not have to warn you again regarding my questions and company, I hope.”

“You do not.”

“Good.”

Alexander swung back into the carriage and knocked on the roof to have them pull away.

“That was my engagement ring,” Lady Kinsfeld finally said once they were alone, her words hard and clipped. “My birthday is in July, so he bought me a ruby-themed engagement ring, the exact month we also got engaged. I have not been able to find it for months.”

Her hands clenched at her sides but she was not upset—not with tears, at least. As if the words were not those of a saddened woman learning of her husband calling her engagement ring meaningless .

No, she sounded like a woman angered—a woman who knew the truth, presented to her clearly. A woman who was trying to keep her composure.

“Before you ask,” the lady said sharply once they were further from the jeweler’s, “I am not affected. I care little what my husband has done with my engagement ring. I only care that he lied to me about it all these months when I asked if he had seen it. When this whole time… the whole time…”

Her voice trailed off, and he knew she was more affected than she said.

She knows about the other women , Alexander realized.

Did she know the extent of Lord Kinsfeld’s escapades? If she saw Lord Kinsfeld’s debts, and what services he’d received to accrue some of those debts to the Raven’s Den, she might very nearly faint.

Something twisted inside of him at watching such a strong woman try to hold herself together. Her lower lip trembled but her jaw remained set, her eyes straight ahead.

“Let me take you home,” he offered, expecting her to argue against it.

But her shoulders slumped as she shook her head.

A soft sigh slipped through her lips. “My carriage is back by the Golden Hand. It’s better I returned with that one instead of yours.”