Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

“ E xcuse me,” Madeleine said to the lady she had been speaking with.

Tessa and Colin were on the dance floor, smiling in one another’s arms, and part of Madeleine could not bear to see it, as happy as she was for their love.

Her focus was now on Alexander, and the look he had given her moments before he disappeared out of the ballroom, trailing a young boy in plain clothes.

She was reeled right into following him. Surely, this could be a sign he was learning more about her husband’s disappearance.

“Lady Morgan,” she said, approaching her host. “Your ball is most lovely. I must depart now, but thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course, Lady Kinsfeld. And I do hope Lord Kinsfeld is able to accompany you next time.”

Madeleine nodded and quickly departed.

Something was happening between the boy and the Duke of Silverton, and Madeleine had a feeling it was a report of a lead.

We agreed to search together , she thought.

She fled outside, and managed to emerge from the house just in time to see the Duke about to climb into his black-painted carriage.

“Your Grace,” she called out, halting his steps.

He lowered himself back to the ground, looking at her over his shoulder. When he saw her hurrying down the steps, onto the driveway, he turned around properly.

Madeleine glanced around them, noting some people milling about, engaged in their conversations.

Still, as soon as she approached the Duke’s carriage, he pulled her behind it, out of sight.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

She blanched, offended. “I could ask you the same thing! I had a presentiment you would go looking for my husband without me.”

“And?”

“ And we agreed to look together!”

“We did no such thing. I said two minds were better than one, but that does not mean you can challenge my methods.”

“You have a lead,” she stated, her voice stubborn and insistent.

He would not push her away this time.

“Perhaps.”

“Take me with you, Your Grace.”

He laughed at her, flat and incredulous. “You presume to give me an order?”

“When it concerns the man I am married to, yes. Should I not be involved, or do you believe that I already know where he is?”

“ Do you?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

She stepped closer to him, wishing to be threatening, her voice cutting through the dark, but the Duke had her cornered within another moment.

Her back hit the carriage, and she was grateful for the shadows concealing them.

“Lady Kinsfeld.” His voice was so low it sent a shudder through her. “Yes, I have a lead, but where I am going is no place for you.”

“Surely if a lady cannot go, then a duke should have even less reason to.”

“Lady Kinsfeld…” he paused, swallowing. “I believe it is a place where conversations are had in blows and fists, not words. It is the dregs of London, and should anything happen to you, I would be responsible.”

“I am responsible for myself, Your Grace. Now, I insist you let me accompany you.” She let her mask slip slightly, hoping to win him over with her emotions. “Whoever you will meet might know more about my husband. Do I not deserve to know, too, as soon as you do? I have spent too many nights questioning everything about him to wait a second longer.”

She delicately arched her back, her breath catching when his gaze dropped below, to her mouth, and then further south.

“I would much rather be of use than sit around waiting for everybody else to do something. I am the one affected, not them.”

That was the thing that finally convinced him. The Duke sighed, his breath fanning over her collarbone, and she fought a shiver. His body’s warmth radiated off him, and she ached to be closer to it. To him .

She quickly fought with herself.

Desire should not tug me closer to him , she thought, I am a married woman.

“Fine,” he finally agreed. “Have your driver follow my carriage, and do not say you were not warned.”

They pulled out of the driveway, and went through the busy streets of London.

Soon, Madeleine’s carriage pulled to a stop, and a knock came on her door. Surprised, she opened it to find the Duke of Silverton standing there.

“Quickly, get into my carriage. Your driver shall divert back to your estate. We will be more inconspicuous where we are going if we ride in the same carriage.”

Madeleine leaned back, hesitant.

“Lady Kinsfeld,” he said impatiently, and she snapped into movement, getting out of her carriage before ordering her driver to return to her residence without her.

Highhope Street was a darker, down-at-heel area of the city, and Madeleine felt grimy just looking out at it, before her shoe even hit the ground.

“Do not say a word,” she muttered to the Duke when he saw her wince at the splash of a puddle hitting the edge of her dress.

“I would not dream of it,” he mocked her. “Come. The Horseshoe Pass is right on this corner.”

Madeleine’s heart hammered in her heartbeat. “That is the very same place where Lord Turnhew turned up…” She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence.

“Dead last month? Yes.”

She shuddered.

It was not love that had her hoping her husband’s fate was not the same but fear. If he was dead, she would be truly left with nothing. Her title, her financial stability, her home—all of it would be gone. She had no son. And she was certain that Donald’s relatives would want nothing to do with her because of that.

She ignored those thoughts and pressed on with the Duke but before they entered, he paused.

“Take off your jewels,” he told her quietly. “Leave them in the carriage. You have your cloak with you. Put that on as well.”

The instructions were swift and sharp, leaving her no time to argue. She did as he asked.

They entered the pub, and immediately, all eyes swung to Madeleine and him, and she had never felt more peeled back and exposed.

Heavens above, this place would eat me alive .

Eyes raked over her even with her gown covered and her jewels gone, and the Duke cast her a warning look as he strode deeper into the pub. He approached a bartender.

“I am looking for the manager. I wish to speak with him.”

The woman’s wide eyes fixed on them, and she glanced towards a wooden, closed door. “He don’t like to be disturbed, mister.”

“I do not care. He will be disturbed tonight.”

Madeleine could not take her eyes off him for a moment, flushing at the command he had over the room, over the barmaid, who nodded again.

“Y-yes, my lord.”

There was a charge in the air as he corrected the barmaid, a quiet authority that seemed to ripple through the room and settle beneath Madeleine’s skin.

Heat flared in her chest, spreading upward to her cheeks as she watched him, unyielding and commanding, effortlessly bending the moment to his will.

It wasn’t just his tone—it was the way he carried himself, the confidence that made others obey without question.

Something primal stirred within her, unbidden and unwelcome, and she tamped it down fiercely, refusing to let her thoughts stray toward the Duke in any treacherous way.

Instead, she straightened her shoulders and followed him as he stalked toward the wooden door, his movements fluid and purposeful, before shoving it open without hesitation.

“Oi!” The manager’s voice called out.

Once Madeleine was inside, the Duke slammed it closed and walked over to the desk, looming over it as he braced his palms on it.

“Who in the world do you think you are, coming in here?—”

“You will listen to me, and you will listen very well,” the Duke ordered. “I do not care for lies, nor excuses, nor time wasting. I am looking for Lord Kinsfeld, and do not think about denying knowing him. I know you have had business with him as of late. I know that he is a customer here.” The Duke dug his fingers into the desk. “And before you think about lying, I would consider your business, and think about your reputation, and how easily I could take away everything you have here. It is not much, is it, but it is yours.”

The man swallowed, his eye black, and his lip split, his mouth curling into a sneer. “I don’t know who you think you are, in your fancy clothes, and your title but I don’t know?—”

“I am getting very impatient.”

“I—All right, all right.” He raised his hands in surrender.

She saw a glimpse of his bloody knuckles. His jaw was peppered with bruises and scars from what she assumed were nicks from knives.

“Do you choke from the tightness of that cravat, my lord?”

The man shrugged but a flush of guilt flashed over his face. His eyes flicked to Madeleine.

“Do not look at her,” the Duke hissed. “Do not even let her cross your mind.”

The dominance in the Duke’s voice had her stomach tightening.

He is protecting me.

“The man—this lord—you’re looking for,” the thug spluttered, “he was last seen on the docks with a woman. That’s all I know. He owes me and my boss money. We chased him through the docks to get it back but he escaped us. We got men posted around, and they say he’s still about.”

The Duke said nothing, only shoved off from the desk and beckoned her to follow him.

She could not do so fast enough.

Soon, they were back in the carriage, Madeleine finally breathing easier.

Mortification spread through her. She was horrified—shame was a hot coal in the center of her body.

He is truly abandoning me. Has already abandoned me. If he was at the docks… and with another woman…

He had fled in the night like a common thief, like a man who stole in and out of women’s windows in secret. He had… he had left her, and Madeleine didn’t know how much more humiliation she could endure.

She did not love him, or particularly want him back for his company. She simply could not endure the fact that he might have left her for good.

Her humiliation built in her chest, bundling up into an exasperated question. “Why are you even helping me, Your Grace?”

The anger that he’d showed in the office of the pub had not yet dwindled, and the Duke slammed his fist against the roof of the carriage to set them off, back towards her townhouse.

“To settle debts,” he told her, his voice returning to that cold tone. “As I have told you.”

She scoffed. “Do not underestimate me, Your Grace. I can handle a deeper truth. I am not a fool.”

His eyes ran over her. “No, you are not. You could not be further from being a fool, Lady Kinsfeld.”

He had helped her.

When everybody else had gossiped and judged her, he had helped her. And although it had not been without their arguments or mockery, he had still agreed to investigate with her.

“You do not pity me,” she noted.

“I would not do you the dishonor of pity. Pity does nobody any good.”

She leaned closer to him, and their hands almost touched. Her heart pounded furiously, and it was the first time she had felt this for a man.

A rush of desire.

Not just warmth to chase away a cold loneliness but actual desire, and want. Heavens knew her husband never had prompted that. He had swathed her in dresses and never once admired her in them.

It was an arranged marriage from the beginning, she thought mournfully.

But this…

In here, with the Duke, with her breath catching, and his eyes sinfully looking at her as though he was the first person to see her in a long, long time, she could not tamper her feelings down the way she ought to.

“I do not love him,” she whispered, lifting her gaze to his, meeting the blue eyes that understood so much.

“I know,” he said. “I can see that. You deserve a lot more, Lady Kinsfeld.”

“Do not call me that,” she murmured. “Not right now.”

“Then I shall not use words at all,” he responded.

The Duke’s face was close, sending her heart pulsing faster. His mouth was inches from hers, and she ached for the press of them.

Her hand placed over his. “I am not a sinner, or a cheater, Your Grace.”

The Duke shook his head, “No, my lady, you are not.”

Still, he came closer, his eyes dropping to her mouth.

“Your Grace,” she uttered as a warning.

The Duke cleared his throat and nodded, “Yes. I apologize,” he said and quickly sat back in his seat, putting distance between them.

Somehow, the air suddenly felt cold to her.

A moment later, the carriage lurched to a stop and the door was opened by a footman.

“We are here,” the Duke’s voice was rough. “I will—” he cleared his throat again, “I will look further into the dock sighting. Lord Kinsfeld will be found. He will not get away with doing such things.”

She nodded, biting her lip. The Duke did not look away from where she caught it between her teeth.

“Good night, my lady.”

“Good night, Your Grace.”

She hurried inside her carriage, her face still burning as the wheels rolled down the London streets, and back to her townhouse.

Still, she could not get the Duke out of her mind.