A tap came on the door, making her flinch. She straightened up just as a butler—she thought his name was Brown—entered.
“Your Grace, a visitor for you,” the man intoned gravely. “The Duchess of Arkley.”
Madeline beamed. “Charlotte?”
“You’re in there?” came Charlotte’s muffled voice. A moment later, she elbowed past the butler and came bustling into the room. Madeline was on her feet in a moment, wrapping her arms around her friend.
“It feels like an age since I saw you,” Madeline said, her voice muffled in her friend’s shoulder. “How can it only be one day?”
“Your Grace, shall I send in tea and cake?” Brown asked gently. When Madeline pulled back from her friend and caught his eye, she thought she saw a twinkle there.
“No,” she found herself saying. “Charlotte and I are going for a walk. A breath of fresh air, that’s what we need. Perhaps we’ll have tea when we come back.”
“Perfect, Your Grace,” the butler answered, making a neat bow. He retreated, closing the door gently behind him.
“A walk, eh?” Charlotte laughed, catching Madeline’s eye. “I thought you might be too tired.”
Color rushed to Madeline’s face. “I told you, it isn’tthatkind of marriage,” she responded tightly. “And I need to stretch my legs. This house is very nice, but there is nothing for me to do inside it but wander around all day. I wantair.”
Charlotte gave an understanding nod, but there was a strange look in her eye, as if she could see something Madeline could not.
“Then let’s go,” she said at last.
Fifteen minutes later, the two women were walking, arm in arm, down the street toward the park. It wasn’t quite the fashionable hour for promenading, but the hour was coming soon. A good many people were there already, preparing for the social event that was a walk in the park.
“That’s a pretty pelisse,” Charlotte commented, nodding at Madeline’s gold and brown brocaded pelisse, very neatly matching her gown. “Is it new?”
“Yes, I suppose so,” Madeline responded, smoothing the front of the pelisse. “The duke bought it for me.”
“Presents already? Heavens.”
“He bought me dresses and that sort of thing,” Madeline burst out, frowning. “He didn’t tell me. He just had them put in my closet for me to find. Is that normal, Charlotte? This is a marriage of convenience. We aren’t in love. He doesn’t care for me, so why is he doing all of this?”
“Perhaps he likes you more than you think.”
Madeline shuddered. “Don’t say that.”
Charlotte stopped, turning to face her. Her expression was serious and a little perturbed.
“Do you truly hate him?” she asked softly. “If you cannot stand him, Madeline…”
“No, no,” Madeline interrupted. “I don’t… I don’t hate him. It’s complicated.”
“Well, I am your friend. You can explain it to me.”
Madeline closed her eyes briefly. Howdidshe feel about Tristan? There was no denying that she was attracted to him. His kiss had seemed to warm her whole body, the heat flyingfrom the crown of her head to the soles of her feet in an instant, sending rushes of sensationeverywhere. It was intoxicating, like how she imagined it would feel to be drunk. Or something along those lines.
He was infuriating, and sometimes he even frightened her a little, but there had been such softness in his eyes when he looked down at Adam. He cared for his little nephew; that was undeniable. And he’d done kind things for her, too, like buying all those gowns and whatnot for her. Theywerebeautiful.
Why did he kiss me? That made everything strange.
No, that wasn’t true. Things had felt strange between thembeforethe kiss. The simplest thing to do, in Madeline’s opinion, would be to avoid him. Yes, that was the key. If she kept away from him, that unsettling sensation would leave her alone.
She glanced up and met Charlotte’s eyes, narrowed in something like suspicion.
“Don’t worry about me,” Madeline said at last. “I’m safe, and I do nothatehim. I don’t hate anyone. Everything is fine.”
“Hm,” Charlotte said, with a disbelieving sniff. “If you say so. Well, let’s go inside, shall we?”
