Chapter 15

Alex was prepared for whatever it was his uncle might have to say in his office. It would not be the first time he had seen that dark look in his eye, that look of disapproval and disgust, though it was the first time it had been aimed in his direction and not at some gentleman at The Devil"s Lair or some other such person.

"Is all well, uncle?" Alex asked once they were seated in his office, and he had poured them both a brandy.

It was something he did automatically now, a custom his father had instilled in him that business must always be done over fine brandy. He half-loathed it but it was as ingrained into him as the devil himself.

"What is this foolishness, Alex?" his uncle demanded immediately. Alex was taken aback. He had at least anticipated his uncle beating around the bush a little first.

"Miss Emmaline Moreau? Really?" his uncle demanded. "Why? When you could have had your pick of the wealthiest women in London?"

Alex"s stomach twisted. Both he and his uncle knew that wasn"t entirely true. His status as duke might have made it so but his appearance as half a duke made it far less likely, and then there was the devil. That part of himself he might have had to keep secret from anyone else but not Emmaline, somehow, he felt he could show her the very worst part of himself, and she would ensureit was milder than before.

"You and I both know, uncle, that there are very few wealthy and beautiful young ladies in London who would take one such as me to wed."

Alex stated, clearing his throat, he adjusted the front of his jacket and said, "Besides, it is done now. Won"t you simply be happy for me?"

Frederick scoffed and raised his glass to his lips, drinking deep. "I suppose I shall have to be."

Alex gritted his teeth. His uncle ought to be happy for him. He thought, perhaps, he was happier than he had been in a long time. He might be even happier still if Sean had not interrupted him in the secret garden.

"Yes, you shall. Now, why have you really come? We both know you did not come simply to question my marriage."

This time, Alex took a deep drink, looking at his uncle over the rim of his glass.

"Have you gotten your duties already?" his uncle scoffed. "I have a mind to question my brother's having you married off so young. It's clouded your mind for business!"

Alex rolled his eyes. "My mind is not clouded, uncle."

"Then you will remember that we are due a visit with Lord Wells?" Frederick pointed out, a dark and dangerous smile spreading across his face. "I have my man waiting in the carriage outside. All we need is the devil."

Alex cringed. He knew all too well what his uncle was saying.

He pictured Tiny, a mountain of a man with a pox-marked face even more hideous than his own, awaiting them in the carriage. A bare-knuckle brawler with a horrendous reputation for dirty fighting, one that had made his uncle a fair coin or two in the underground boxing rings over the years.

What his true name was, Alex didn"t know. He wasn"t sure even the man himself knew for he had always been called Tiny for as long as Alex had known him, and he had known him his entire life.

The man"s appearance had always frightened him. Perhaps that was why, when he looked in the mirror, he frightened himself.

"Is that really necessary?" Alex asked, draining the last of his drink. "Do you not think the devil shall frighten the poor man enough?"

"Lord Wells has been threatened three times over," Frederick pointed out. He drained his own drink and slammed the glass on the table between them. "It"s Tiny's turn."

Alex bit back the urge to ask, then what do you need me for?

He knew very well why they needed him. Lord Wells needed to look upon the devil and know the seriousness of his trouble. He needed to be urged to give what he owed.

And if Alex did not attend, he knew that Lord Wells would immediately be set upon. At least, with his attendance, he might see the man come to no harm.

"Very well," Alex said, sighing deeply. He stood and adjusted his jacket once more. "I shall meet you in the carriage once I have bid my wife farewell."

His uncle stood, eyebrow raised. Buttoning up his own jacket, he asked, "She has you well trained already."

Alex shook his head, his throat constricting at his uncle"s derogatory tone.

"I merely wish to show her the respect she is due as my wife," he stated, gesturing for his uncle to make his way from the office.

"Don"t be long, nephew," Frederick called over his shoulder as he headed down the hall. "Business is booming, and we should not delay."

"Of course, uncle," Alex responded, a shiver running down his spine.

Oh, how he loathed this kind of business. But for now, until he was able to invest enough money into more honorable ventures, it was their bread and butter and without it, his dukedom would be penniless.

His sister"s education would be over. Sean would be forced to return to the father who sold him. His uncle would be left to run entirely riot. And his staff would all be let go. Then there was Emmaline…

Hell, what have I done? He asked himself once more, realizing that he may well have simply dug himself deeper into the hole he had hoped to pull himself out of with the India investment.

Yet, the moment he stepped back into the drawing room to say farewell to her, he knew once more why he had dug deeper into that hole.

Emmaline was simply too rare a beauty, too rare a person, for him to have simply let the opportunity pass him by.

She rose from her seat with what appeared to be a genuinely happy smile.

"Alexander? Is something the matter?" she asked, and Alex"s stomach twisted, his heart aching. She had called him by his given name without prompting. It was the smallest gesture and yet, it meant everything to Alex. Why did it have to be right as he was about to leave her to do something terrible?

"No, my darling, nothing is the matter," he assured her as they met in the center of the room, and he took hold of her hands. Bringing them to his lips, he kissed both sets of knuckles before he explained, "But I am afraid I must leave."

Emmaline raised a brow at him. "Leave? Right now? But we were just…" she trailed off and glanced down. "Forgive me, I have no right to question you."

Pain lanced through Alex's heart again. He placed his fingertips under her chin and urged her face up to look at him. "We were getting so close," he finished for her, smiling in a way he didn"t think he would ever smile again. "I promise you, on my return, we shall be close again. But for now, I must attend to business."

A questioning expression crossed his lady"s face. Though he had known her personally for only a short time, he sensed he knew what that look meant. She wished to ask him what his business entailed.

And had she asked, he was certain he would have begrudgingly told her, for as he had come to realize, he wished to share every aspect of himself with her.

But he was most relieved when she did not voice the question. He wasn"t sure he could bear to watch the admiration die in her eyes just yet, for he hadn"t seen a look like that in a lady"s eyes since his accident. And he had never hoped to again.

Though he felt a terrible urge to kiss her farewell, to finish what they had begun in the garden, he knew he would not be able to leave it at that. And so, instead, he leaned in and kissed her forehead before he told her, "I shall leave Sean behind to keep you company while I am gone. Perhaps the two of you might get to know each other a little better too."

Emmaline looked at him with a gentle smile. "If you wish, Your Grace."

Alex cringed at the title. How he wished he could always just be Alex when he was with her.

It took everything he had in him to release her hands and step away.

With a deep bow, he said, "I shall return as soon as I am able."

"You will be careful, won"t you?" Emmaline asked and Alex looked at her in shock. He quickly removed the expression from his face.

How had she known he was about to do something that required such words?

Because she is no fool, he thought, remembering another reason he had been so enamored with her.

Unable to promise her anything, he merely dipped his head again, and forced himself from the room. Over and over as he walked to the front door to collect his devil"s mask from the peg, he was forced to remind himself of why he was doing these things.

Masked and silent, Alex sat in Lord Wells' drawing room. Though it was the middle of the day, the drapes were drawn. The mountain of a man, Tiny, had seen to that, ensuring that not a single person could witness what was to come.

And the candles that had been lit in the absence of sunlight danced eerily for there was no breeze to blow them and yet, they danced their devil"s dance.

"You know why we are here, My Lord," Frederick said, sitting on a couch beside Alex where he was seated in a high armchair, using the fireplace to add shadow to his already horrendous devil"s mask. "I shall not bore you with the details. I shall simply encourage you to do the right thing."

"My… My Lord, I…" Lord Wells stammered and the way he glanced at Alex told him he was not about to plead to Frederick but instead directly to the devil. "I am trying to do the right thing. I brought all I had to the club just last week."

"A week is passed," Frederick boomed. "A week is more than enough time for a man such as yourself to gather fifty pounds."

"In… indeed, Lord Black but… but I… my family have needs," Lord Wells stammered. The older man, perhaps about as old as Alex"s father might have been had he still been alive, was trembling so hard that even in the dim light of the room, Alex could see his hands shaking on his armrest.

"As do the devil"s family," Frederick said, gesturing toward Alex who remained still as stone, glaring unblinkingly.

Silently, he prayed his act would be enough to persuade Lord Wells to give them something, anything to appease the devil, just enough to see them off his back for one more week.

"I… I understand that, Lord Black, but I… I have nothing left to give."

Frederick glanced around the room, his eyes lingering on several paintings, some golden candlesticks, all manner of finery.

"I see quite a lot left to give, Lord Wells, do you not my lord devil?" Frederick growled, looking to Alex who nodded his head dangerously slowly, never taking his gaze from Lord Wells.

The man was petrified now. That much was clear. And it pained Alex immensely. But this was the price he paid for his own part in such horrendous acts. This was the price he paid to care for his family. This was the price he paid not to disgrace his dukedom.

"Please, My Lord," Lord Wells said, inching forward in his seat. "You cannot expect me to pawn my belongings, surely. I have a reputation to uphold. And my wife, my children, my servants. What would they think?"

"They are of no concern of ours," Frederick boomed. "They were yours to think about before you gambled your fortune at our tables."

With a click of his fingers, Frederick sent Tiny looming over the lord.

Alex tensed as Tiny lifted the man right out of his seat by the back of his collar and dragged him around the table to cower at the devil"s feet.

It was in moments like these that Alex felt withdrawn from it all, like an outsider looking in, a man trapped in another"s body, wishing to scream but unable to do so.

He clutched tight to the arms of his seat, praying likely as hard as Lord Wells was for this to be over sooner rather than later.

His mantra rang silently in his head, for my sister, for Sean, for my employees, and now for Emmaline…

It was all he had to get him through this.

"Must we really go through all of this every time we visit?" Frederick demanded, leaning forward in his seat so that Lord Wells was forced to look upon them both as Tiny gripped the man"s hair by the roots and pulled his head back.

There was contempt and boredom in his uncle"s tone and it sickened Alex even more than he cared to admit.

This was his uncle, his father"s brother, and their business. This was their livelihood. This was their fortune. Without it, he would be a penniless duke, and no use to anybody.

He looked down at Lord Wells and forced himself to remember him just three nights earlier when he had been gambling and whoring and laughing away in the devil"s lair. The man had not a care in the world for his family then.

He and Frederick would not do this to any Godly, family-oriented man for a man such as that would never gamble away his entire fortune just for fun. He would think of his family, not of himself. This man was a worm, a selfish and loathsome creature who deserved to be stomped under his boot. And yet, when Frederick gestured for Tiny to truly begin the stomping, Alex"s stomach turned so violently that he struggled to remain in character.

The way his uncle laughed, how Tiny failed to show any emotion at all as he laid into the poor lord, made Alex wish to close his eyes and cover his ears as he might have done when he was a small child, forced to stand and watch in his father"s office as he played the devil.

But this was his kingdom now and it was he who was the devil. And the lord"s pain was his own to feel.

"Enough!" Alex boomed when he could finally take no more and Lord Wells was bleeding so badly, he thought Tiny might have actually done some lasting damage.

Frederick looked most disappointed, as if he would have happily watched Tiny beat the man to death for the fun of it. Less and less, Alex could see the uncle he had once known, the uncle who had brought him lemon sherbets behind his father"s back and taken him shooting in the country while his father was too busy with the club.

How he longed for simpler days. But they were behind him. And if saving a man"s life was all he could do now, he would do it. "He cannot very well pay us what he owes if he is dead!"

Frederick scowled at that. "He has a son."

"I… I have two!" Lord Wells said, struggling to his knees once more. "Two sons, My Lord, two strong, young and healthy sons."

Alex"s insides twisted all over again. This speech sounded remarkably like the one spoken by Sean's father in the moments before he sold him to the devil. Alex would not have that kind of indenture upon his name once more.

Before the man could suggest such a thing, he rose to his feet and snarled, "I grow bored of this. You have one week, Lord Wells, to come up with half of what you owe or next time, Lord Black"s man will finish what he has started today, and it shall not only be your sons who pay but your daughters and your wife too."

It pained him to say such things, but he had learned long ago that even the men with little conscience seemed to find one when it came to the females in their lives.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, My Lord," Lord Wells said, bowing at Alex"s feet even as he turned to leave. "You won"t regret this."

"See he doesn"t," Frederick growled, kicking the man right off his knees towards the fireplace. Alex cringed as he saw him reel out of the corner of his eye. He knew all too well what those flames in the hearth could do to a man.

***

Chapter 16

Emmaline was most surprised when Lord Seymour did not just keep her company but also offered to take her into town to do some shopping. At first, she imagined it would be most inappropriate to find herself alone with another man. But then she remembered, she was a married woman now. She need not worry quite so much about things.

And in truth, it was a wonderful time.

From the moment they stepped out the carriage, Emmaline felt oddly safe with Lord Seymour. It was almost as if the duke himself were standing beside her. Perhaps that was because it was clear the lord would do anything for the duke.

And as they walked, window shopping for the most part, down the high street, Emmaline couldn"t help but ask, "Have yourself and the duke known each other a long time, Lord Seymour?"

"Please, Your Grace," he responded, "You may call me Sean if it pleases you."

Emmaline smiled at him and gave a nod of acknowledgement.

"And yes, we have been friends for as long as I can remember," he added. Emmaline thought she saw a little darkness enter his gaze as he averted his eyes, seemingly with the intention of looking where he was going.

"I get the sense your closeness is a little more than just friendship," Emmaline said quite boldly.

The nobleman"s gaze whipped back to hers. "I am not sure what you are implying."

Realizing she may have phrased it wrong, Emmaline gulped and quickly corrected herself, "What I meant to say was, you are quite devoted to your work for the duke. I do not know of any other nobleman who lives in the same house as his employer. In fact, its rarer for a nobleman to have an employer at all, is it not?"

Emmaline raised a brow as she spoke. The nobleman scoffed and shook his head. "Alex was right."

"Right? Right about what?" she asked, clutching the handle of her parasol just a little tighter. What had the duke said of her?

"You are quite outspoken and much unlike any other lady he or I have ever met," Sean said, laughing openly when she scowled at him.

"Why should a lady not be outspoken? Should conversation be boring and one-sided, My Lord?"

She glowered at him, feeling comfortable in the knowledge that as the wife of a duke, she now technically outranked the viscount, even if he was a man and she only a woman. She had every right to be outspoken.

"I did not say it was a bad thing, Your Grace," Sean pointed out, still smiling. His smile faded as he added, "To answer your query, it was not merely friendship that made the duke and I so close. I came to live with the late duke and his son as part of a business arrangement between the duke and my own father."

He shrugged then and sighed, glancing down. Emmaline was about to ask him what had happened when he looked at her and added, "Once that arrangement came to an end, I stayed on as Alex"s assistant. Sometimes, I believe it is because it is all I have ever known. But in truth it is because he is more family than my own have ever been."

Emmaline"s heart ached for the man as he spoke. There was such sadness in his tone that it made her stomach twist.

"I… I am sorry to hear that," she said, resting her hand for only a few seconds on his forearm.

Sean shook his head. "Do not be. I fear I would have been much worse off in life had I not been under the duke"s roof."

Emmaline sucked in a deep breath and thought hard before asking her next question, "What was the late duke like?"

She did not miss the way Sean flinched at the question. Maybe she ought to try and take it back.

Before she could, he explained, "The duke was a very powerful, well-respected man."

"Like Alex?" Emmaline asked and Sean flinched again. His reaction told her all she needed to know.

"No, nothing at all like Alex. Alex only got the very best parts of his father, though there were very few of those, his sense of ambition was likely the most evident."

Now Emmaline was even more curious.

"Alex does not talk of him much," she admitted, hoping it might encourage further talk.

Sean shook his head. "He will not. He takes every opportunity to avoid the subject. You see, his father was a cruel and ruthless man. It was he and his brother who came up with the devil lord. So I am sure just in my telling you that you can imagine what he must have been like."

Emmaline's throat ached with how tightly it constricted.

"I suspect he was much more like the devil lord and far less like the duke then?" Emmaline asked, and as if Sean were surprised she had gotten it so easily, his expression changed to one of shock before he nodded.

"Alex, the real Alex, and his father were practically total opposites," Sean explained.

"Then why does he continue this charade? If his father and uncle made the abomination, why not end it?"

Sean paused in his walking and looked down at his hands. "If only it were that easy, Your Grace. As I said before, Alex is an ambitious man. Not only that but he is a powerful man and there are many who expect certain things of him."

Emmaline swallowed hard. "Like his uncle?"

"Yes, his uncle. Though he is not the only one. He has other family who depend on him."

Emmaline nodded acknowledgement and they started to walk again. She twirled her parasol and made a show of looking in the shop windows before deciding to speak again. "Sean, I got a sense that Lord Black did not care for me. Did I perhaps do something wrong?"

Her chest tightened as she asked the question. She wasn"t sure she would like the answer.

A low kind of growl erupted from the nobleman"s throat as if he disliked the mere mention of the man. "He is almost as bad as his brother was, Your Grace. I would not care a fig for his opinion if I were you."

Again, Emmaline nodded, though she wasn"t sure she could take the man"s advice. After all, this was her husband"s family they were talking about, and it was clear to her that the duke cared greatly for them all.

She had wished so desperately to make a good impression. After all, they were technically her family now too.

"If he is so bad, why does the duke do business with him still?"

Sean shook his head. "It is not for me to tell you every detail of every story, Your Grace, forgive me. But I will say, do not judge the duke too harshly for he only does what he must and what he believes is right. He is a good and kind man, even if he may not appear to be at times."

Emmaline's heart ached all the more for she knew he was right, and she only wished the duke might be able to show that side of himself all the time.

Emmaline was about to say she already had a sense of that when Sean stopped outside a confectionary shop and said, "Your Grace, might we go in here?"

"Of course! Please, feel free."

She gestured Sean in and like a gentleman he held the door open for her, the bell dinging above their heads as they entered.

"Thank you," she told him before sweeping into the room filled with sweets and chocolates and all other manner of delicious things.

"Was there something specific you needed to collect, My Lord?" Emmaline asked even as the shopkeeper appeared from the backroom, summoned by the bell.

"My Lord," the man said, dipping his head to Sean. The look of apprehension in the man"s eyes told Emmaline that the duke wasn"t the only one with a dark reputation. It had clearly rubbed off on his man too.

"My Lady," the shopkeeper said, bowing his head to her. She saw the curiosity light in his eyes at the sight of her with Sean. "What can I do for you?"

"The duchess and I have come to collect the usual order," Sean said, removing his money purse from his pocket. "I expect you have everything prepared for the duke?"

"Oh, yes, yes," the shopkeeper said, hurrying to fetch a box from beneath the counter. "I would forget my head if it were not attached to my neck. Forgive me, My Lord."

"In the presence of the lady, I shall," Sean said threateningly. Emmaline noticed the tension in his shoulders, similar to that she had seen in the duke"s. Clearly, Sean was acting as much as Alex did.

It filled her with sympathy for them both though it felt awkward considering her conflicting sympathy for the shopkeeper who was on the other end of the threats.

"Very kind of you, My Lord," the man said, handing over the box. "It is all there, My Lord."

Sean took the box and with one hand started to check through it. He opened several of the brown paper bags, looking inside as if counting off what was inside.

It was only when he opened the last that a sweetly sour and awfully familiar scent hit her nostrils. "Are… are those lemon sherbets?"

Sean looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "How did you know?"

"I would know that smell anywhere," Emmaline chuckled. "I loved them as a child."

"Then help yourself," Sean insisted, holding out the box with the open bag of lemon sherbets on top.

"Oh no, I couldn"t!" She protested. "They are the duke"s."

"I won"t tell if you don"t," Sean said, offering her a wink. "Besides, I think he should like you to have one while I let you in on one secret about him."

Intrigued, Emmaline took a sweet and popped it into her mouth, leaning forward to hear what he had to say. "They are his favorites too."

Emmaline straightened up, feeling a little giddy. It was such a small, simple thing to like the same sweets, and yet it was something that made Emmaline smile immensely. If they could share something as simple as that, what else did they share a love of?

She was about to suggest that maybe she should be the one to deliver them to the duke when Sean sighed, his expression becoming somewhat unreadable.

"Is something the matter?" she asked instead, cocking her head slightly to one side.

Sean shook his and cleared his throat. "No, nothing is the matter. In fact, quite the opposite. I"m glad that Alex found you."

Emmaline raised a brow.

Sean glanced down at the box in his hand, cleared his throat and quickly said to the shopkeeper, "Thank you. That will be all."

"Please, allow me to open the door for you, My Lord, Your Grace."

The shopkeeper hurried to the door and did just that, yanking it open with a dinging of the bell.

Sean didn"t speak again until they both stood on the cobblestone pavement, the shop door closed behind them. "What I meant to say is, I am glad you found each other. I cannot speak for you, but I can see that the duke has been much happier since you arrived."

"Truly?" Emmaline asked, shocked. Much of the time she found the duke quiet, brooding and far too interested in his work to ever find happiness anywhere.

She could only imagine what he had been like before.

"The ball where you met, and then the one where he announced your marriage is one of the few the duke has attended since his accident," Sean explained. "In fact, save for the club, he seldom leaves the house. I do not remember the last time he walked anywhere, especially to the park."

Emmaline"s eyes widened. "That cannot be true. It has been years since his accident."

"Indeed," Sean nodded, "But it is true."

"But… but what about business meeting and such? Surely he has left the house for those?"

"Indeed though I"d hardly call leaving the house under the cover of night, wearing a mask to climb into a carriage and back out again at the club leaving the house, would you?" Sean asked, his brow furrowed. He silently offered her his elbow then before he asked, "Shall we return to the carriage so that I might offload this? It is quite heavy."

"Oh, of course!" Emmaline insisted, taking his elbow while he held the box still in both hands.

"Perhaps afterwards we might go to the tearooms for a late luncheon?" Sean suggested, "On me, of course."

"I"d like that," Emmaline smiled. In truth, she would have liked to know more about the duke, much more, and seeing as Sean was his closest friend it only seemed right the stories should come from him. Who could know him better?

"You said he hasn't left the house since the accident but in truth, I have no idea what that accident actually was," Emmaline said, gulping past the lump in her throat. When she felt Sean stiffen, she added, "I"m sure you know the rumor mill has thrown out all manner of explanation for the duke"s injuries?"

"Indeed, Your Grace, though I am afraid that story is not mine to tell."

Emmaline clenched her jaw. She had felt so close to learning the truth. Why couldn"t someone simply tell her what had happened?

"I understand," she said through gritted teeth. "I only wish to know what kind of hardship faces the duke so I might know how best to help him."

"Help him?" Sean looked shocked at that. "In what way do you hope to help him?"

He looked down at her with a quizzical expression.

Emmaline met his gaze and sucked in a breath before answering, "He is my husband. Is it not a wife"s duty to help her husband?"

Sean scoffed at that. "I suppose it is."

They reached the carriage where they had left it with the coachman at the end of the high street and Sean handed the box to a waiting footman. "The duchess and I are headed to the tearooms. See the carriage brought outside for when we are finished."

"Of course, My Lord," the young man said, bowing low before he turned to put the box onto the carriage.

"I shall say again, Your Grace, I am most glad that the duke has found you," Sean said as he offered her his elbow once more. "I did fear once that the devil might entirely consume him, but I think, perhaps, you might be the very thing to rescue him from such a fate."

Emmaline was shocked at his words, not because she didn"t intend to try but because Sean believed she could. After all, she was just a woman. What hope did she truly have of rescuing anybody from anything?

Late that afternoon, long after the tearooms and returning home to prepare for dinner, Emmaline heard the duke"s own return. She heard the definitive sounds of a man in full blown anger, yelling at servants and slamming doors. Whatever had happened while he had been out on business with his uncle, it couldn"t have been good.

And for a while, Emmaline remained in her room. Even once Mrs. Farthing had finished helping her prepare for dinner and suggested that she might wish to wait in the drawing room.

Emmaline had asked the woman to go about her other business, wishing to be alone with her thoughts. After all Sean had said, she was hopeful. And her urge to go to the duke, to ask him what the matter was and try to comfort him, was so powerful that it was impossible to resist.

After almost an hour of waiting, with no sign that the duke had called for dinner to be served, Emmaline finally left the duchess' chambers and headed downstairs.

Servants paused and bowed or curtsied low as she passed, and she offered them a friendly smile in return. If there was one thing she remembered her father had told her about her mother, it was that she insisted upon being friendly with her servants.

Her father had often told her how her mother would insist that a happy, well looked-after servant is a loyal and hard-working one. And as she was now a duchess, Emmaline felt it important to follow in her late mother"s footsteps, not only with the servants but also her husband. Her father had also told her that her mother never let him be troubled alone.

When she reached the door to the duke"s study, she paused with her hand raised to knock. Quite unsure as to whether it was a good idea to disturb him after how angry he had sounded, Emmaline sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Listening, she tried to get a sense of the mood inside the room. Yet, it was next to impossible as it was silent.

Is he even in there? Emmaline wondered but she knew he was. She hadn"t heard the door open since he went inside. Nor had she heard his footsteps about the house, their sound growing more familiar by the day.

Taking one final large breath, Emmaline knocked upon the door and waited.

"Enter!" the duke called with great authority in his tone.

And when she did enter, he looked up from his desk with surprise. "Oh, it"s you," he said, the emotion clear in his voice. "I thought perhaps you were Benedict."

"Did you have need of him?" Emmaline asked, "I can call for him?"

Now that she stood before the duke, she had lost all confidence for why she had come.

"No, no," the duke said, leaning back in his chair. He gazed at her intently. "Did you have need of something?"

Before she could answer, he gestured to the armchair opposite his desk and added, "Please, sit."

Emmaline did just that, feeling her knees growing weak at the sight of him. How could this gentleman of a man possibly be the devil lord?

It utterly baffled her that he seemed to play his act so well that nobody else had seen beneath the mask, that damn mask that sat on the desk beside him right now, glaring at her with its sightless eyes.

"I… I came to see if you were well," Emmaline said, deciding it best to see if his mood had recovered somewhat. "You came home in such a temper. I thought, perhaps, you might need to talk?"

The duke regarded her gently for a moment and she actually believed he might tell her the truth. Then his gaze hardened, and he shook his head. "There is nothing to talk of."

"Forgive me, Alex, but I can see that is not true," Emmaline said carefully. She played with the hem on the folds of her skirt as she spoke, hoping to keep herself calm though her heart was racing. "And since I am your wife, who better to talk to?"

Again, the duke"s gaze softened. The inner turmoil was clear in his eyes as it hardened once more. He shook his head. "It is nothing I cannot handle alone."

"But must you?" Emmaline asked, feeling a little braver as she saw the fight going on behind her husband"s eyes. Perhaps if she just gave a little push, she might be able to crack him.

"What is it that you want from me, Emmaline?" the duke asked. Emmaline paused, surprised and pleased by his using her name.

Gulping, she admitted, "I wish to know the truth."

The duke raised a brow. Clasping his hands together on his lap, he asked, "What truth is that?"

"I have married into the Black family, and I can see that its past is still affecting the family"s future, so therefore, I wish to know the truth of the matters surrounding it," Emmaline said, holding her head high even though inside she felt she had the heart of a mouse staring down a lion.

The duke scoffed at that. "There is little to tell. You met my uncle today. I am sure you got a true and accurate impression of him," he said, clearly unwilling to give anything else up.

"Is he the one forcing you to be this?" Emmaline asked, gesturing at the mask. "What does he have over you that causes you to put yourself in so much pain and torment?"

The duke actually flinched at that. It was as if she had struck him clean across the face.

"My uncle holds nothing over me," the duke snarled through gritted teeth. He leaned forward and added, "You do not know of what you speak."

And yet, his words made Emmaline think quite the opposite.

"Then does this have something to do with your late father? You have barely spoken of him and yet you handle his business and his estate in much the same manner as he did from what I have heard," Emmaline said, meeting the duke"s gaze.

It was in that moment she saw something of devil lord in him. He blew up so fast that Emmaline barely had time to blink before he was on his feet.

"What have you heard and who have you heard it from?" he bellowed.

Though she wanted to avert her eyes and cower away, Emmaline continued to meet his gaze.

"I do not believe that matters," Emmaline said, her hands growing still. "What matters is I have heard enough to know that you are troubled, and I wish to help. Please, Alex, tell me of your father."

For a second, she saw the shock in his gaze at her using his name. It was, however, quickly overwhelmed by the subject.

He shook his head so vigorously that Emmaline thought it might well roll over his shoulders. "You will not ask me of him. I will not speak of it."

Emmaline"s stomach twisted. What could be so bad that he utterly refused to talk of the man who had helped bring him into this world?

"I… I only wish to help you," Emmaline insisted, pleading with her eyes though he was barely looking at her now.

"You cannot help me. Nobody can. My father"s debts are my own now. I am The Devil Lord and nothing shall change that," he hissed, grabbing his mask from the desk. "Dredging up the past shall not, no matter how hard you might try. Leave it be, Emmaline."

With that he stormed out from behind his desk and headed for the door.

"Your Grace, where are you—"

Before she could finish, he turned back and said, "You married a scarred man, Emmaline, inside and out."

His gaze met hers. There was such pain there that Emmaline flinched. She opened her mouth to speak, to tell him otherwise, but he turned away all too soon.

"I have to open the club," he growled and then he was gone from the room, leaving her feeling utterly deflated.

How was she supposed to live a life with this man if he did not even deem her worthy of the truth?

It was one thing to allow the rumor mills to spout out meaningless and sometimes atrocious gossip, but it was quite another to deny your wife the truth.

What would it take to truly connect with the man she was to spend the rest of her life with?