“I am sorry for the interruption,” she murmured. “It all felt rather urgent at the time.”
“I would have won, you know,” he added with a grin, and it took her a moment to realize that he was talking about the fight.
“I… I don’t much care for violence,” Madeline admitted.
He chuckled. “Not even the friendly sort?”
“No. Although I did meet some people this morning who made me think of violence.”
This seemed to intrigue him. He waited, and she told the story about the promenade in the park, and what Charlotte had told her about the gossip regarding Adam’s birth.
Tristan did not seem as shocked as she had expected him to be. Perhaps he had already heard the gossip and did not care.
“I suppose that is the reason for your presence here, then?” he inquired, tossing the towel over his shoulder. He tilted his head, eyeing her curiously.
“I wanted to talk to you about Adam. About his christening, specifically.”
“I see. I’m sure his parents christened him already.”
“Maybe so, but I think a public christening would put paid to these rumors. And it will be a good way to introduce him to theton.”
Tristan was silent for a long moment, lost in thought.
“You must know,” he said at last, “that a christening will not make this gossip go away.”
She reddened. “No, but we must try something.”
There was a moment of silence between them. During the silence, Madeline noticed just how quiet the world around them had become. She could hear the ticking of a clock somewhere. The man called Orion had spilled a little water on the counter, and she could hear it falling, drop by drop, onto the floor below, slow and even as a metronome. She could even hear a footman shuffling past outside, talking in a low voice to his companion. The voices passed by and disappeared, yet Tristan still did not speak.
It occurred to her then that he must be getting cold. The room was not warm, and the exercise had caused sweat to break out on his skin, which was surely cooling off now. She glanced apprehensively down at his chest and saw that goosebumps rippled across the surface.
“You really should put on your shirt,” she said.
Tristan lifted an eyebrow. “Perhaps you should stop staring at me.”
“I am not… Oh, I cannot argue with you. What do you think of my christening suggestion?”
He shrugged. “I have no objection to christening the child. Do you wish to arrange it yourself, or shall you let my mother do so?”
“I don’t mind,” Madeline confessed. “There is another thing, too.”
“You do love to create suspense in our conversations, don’t you, my dear?”
She felt her cheeks heating at his teasing tone.
Curse my fair skin,Madeline thought mournfully.Heroines in novels don’t blush at the drop of a hat, do they?
It was too late to wish herself a sturdier complexion, of course. She shook back her hair and tried to imagine herself resolute, a firm and capable duchess who knew exactly what she was doing.
“I would like to go dress-shopping with Dorothea. For christening outfits, you know. We can have tea afterwards. Perhaps Charlotte, too.”
“Of course, Charlotte too,” Tristan chuckled. “I shall accompany you.”
Madeline blinked. “Well, you don’thaveto.”
“Hmm. To refer to our earlier point and the matter of this gossip, I should tell you that I already know about it.”
She frowned. “And you never thought to tell me?”
