Page 32 of The Madame Catches Her Duke

“Mayhap it is you who is the fool,” he mused. “Thinking Tobias would keep your secrets from me.” He turned away from her and faced the bed. Marce glanced at the door for only a brief moment.

This moment was as good as any to follow for her escape.

The cords in his neck tensed as his desperation turned to something far darker. “Has he visited you here?” he asked, gesturing to Marce’s rumpled bed sheets. “Or mayhap you journey to Cresthaven Park to see him.”

“What?” Marce stumbled over the word, not fully believing she’d heard him correctly.

“I suppose I must take after my mother a bit as it took me this long to notice what was going on right in my own house. My best friend and my—” His words cut short.

“Yes, Rowan, your best friend and your…what?” She was baiting him. It was wrong, and would only end badly for her, yet how could she not pressure him to finish? If he said the word—not that she knew what it would be—it would certainly be simpler to tell him to go to the Devil. Regardless, she was leaving Hadlow Estate and Rowan. When he remained silent, she prodded, “Your what, Rowan?”

His eyes flashed and clouded.

This would likely be the only moment of true honesty between them.

“Do not squander this private moment to share with me how you truly feel.” Marce took a step toward Rowan. It was his turn to retreat. “There is no one here but you and I. This meeting is years in the making. Your what?”

“You are nothing to me; however, no matter what profession you embroil yourself in while in town, you will see to it that you do not conduct business in my home.”

Marce’s breath left her in a whoosh. It was as if someone had punched her in the gut. No, not someone—Rowan. And he questioned her friendship with Tobias, of all people. “You accuse me of bedding Lord Cresthaven…and doing so to earn a living?”

She wasn’t certain what offended her more—Rowan thinking she and Tobias were intimate, or that he’d called her a whore. Marce had never so much as lain with a man, let alone embarked on illicit coupling with Tobias while in residence at Hadlow.

Marce had half a mind to confirm his accusation—if she thought it would injure Rowan as much as he’d wounded her.

“Need I remind you, Your Grace,” she seethed, placing her hands on her hips. “It was you who came to me and demanded that I fulfill the financial obligation to your family. Need I also remind you that it was you who demanded I agree to your proposition or risk my entire family being turned out onto the cold, harsh streets of London? What I do, and do not do, outside of those obligations is not your concern.”

“Nowhere in our arrangement were you to seduce my best friend.” He stepped forward, mirroring her pose, but Marce was not prepared to back down.

“Nothing in our agreement forbid it either,” she challenged.

“It is just not proper.”

It was Marce’s turn to laugh. “Nothing about our arrangement is proper.”

He cursed under his breath, running his hand through his hair, mussing it even more.

“But, be that as it may,” Marce said, straightening her shoulders, attempting to give herself the nerve needed to continue. “I have been meaning to speak with you about—”

“Is this what you wanted a private moment to discuss?” He paused for a moment, dragging in a deep breath. “You and Tobias?”

“No, Rowan. However, I did come to Hadlow with the intent to end our association.” She’d spoken the words, there was no going back. A weight she hadn’t realized she carried all these years fell from her. Freedom would be hers, as long as she remained calm and escaped Hadlow. “And I am well aware of the repercussions of my decision. If you allow me to collect a few belongings—family mementos and clothing—from Craven House, I will turn over the house”—she could no longer think of it as a home—“to you within a few days.”

And with those words, the gravity of her decision set upon her.

She’d always been Marce Davenport of Craven House. Now, she was simply Marce Davenport. Hadn’t that been exactly what she desired?

Looking up into Rowan’s tantalizingly raw and hungry green eyes had Marce wondering if she’d misinterpreted her true desires.

Chapter 14

Rowan stood perfectly frozen, the air trapped in his lungs, and his entire body tense. Focusing his glare on the single blond curl that had been lightly grazing her creamy shoulder since he entered the room, Rowan pleaded with his head to stop spinning. He must remain in control. If he let his guard fall for even a moment, he’d never get the control back.

He’d accused her of bedding his best friend, all because Rowan selfishly longed for the connection the pair obviously had.

Yet, her words invaded every crevice of his mind, making Rowan question both his words and the feelings behind them. In his heart of hearts, he knew Marce and Tobias had not betrayed him.

“You do not have the right to end our arrangement.” Rowan knew that wasn’t accurate. If she were willing to give up Craven House, then there was nothing to hold her to their bargain. She was free to walk out of Hadlow and never look back. How had he not seen this coming?