Page 92 of Maid for the Marquess

“Excellent.”

“What will you do now? Tell Maddie?”

“Yes,” I replied promptly. “I believe it will ease her mind, knowing that awful man will never be seen again. That he can never again hurt her.”

He nodded, rubbing his eyes.

“Retire for the evening, Edward. Tell me the rest tomorrow, unless there is anything pressing.”

“No. I dealt with the matters you sent me on. I have documents for you. Some new items to discuss. But nothing urgent.”

I rose to my feet and extended my hand. “Thank you for your work. As usual, you have proven to be exemplary.”

He smiled and shook my hand. “I believe I shall wander to the kitchen and see if I can persuade Cook to share some of her delicious treats.”

“Do. The roast joint tonight was exceptional. And the cherry tarts divine. Maddie ate three.”

He laughed. “I will see you in the morning, Alexander.”

“In the morning,” I agreed.

He left, and I picked up the miniature and added the small package of letters, planning on reading them to her. I decided to go upstairs locate my wife. She had been emotional since reading her mother’s journals, and I sensed these letters and likeness would do the same to her, so I wished to stay close.

I swallowed the last of my brandy and headed for the stairs.

MADELEINE

Curled up comfortably on a chair by a crackling fire, I was waiting for Alexander when he came to our bedchamber. The open book of poetry in my lap no longer held my attention as my handsome husband crossed the threshold. I took a moment to admire him as I oft did, still unable to believe that he was mine, that my father would never dare to harm us again, and that our future would be as bright as the morning sun that shone in our windows each morning.

He wore a dark coat and trousers, his cravat snowy white to match his crisp shirt, his waistcoat a lighter shade of gray. His long, dark hair was pulled away from his face, and his strong jaw was clenched, as if something troubled him.

Since he had sent my father away, I had observed a lightness in my husband, one that filled me with happiness. His somber countenance made my stomach tighten.

“What is amiss?” I asked him.

He closed the door at his back, striding toward me.

I moved to stand and greet him.

“Stay as you are, Maddie mine. There is no need to rise on my account. I’m sure you’re tired after carrying our babe about all day.”

My back and feet were tired and sore, but my joy at our impending child more than assuaged any physical infirmity I suffered. I rose despite his protest, setting aside my volume of poetry.

“Something has distressed you, and you aren’t telling me what it is.” I pressed a hand to my lower back, thinking that I would soon need to let out the seams of my dressing gown. Or perhaps have a new one fashioned for me, one with room for my ever-growing belly for my lying-in.

“Nothing is distressing me,” he assured me, “but I do come to you bearing news. Edward has returned from his sojourn to London.”

Belatedly, I noticed he carried a stack of papers bound with ribbon and something that looked like a miniature.

“What news does he bring?”

Alexander reached me, his countenance gentling as it did for me alone. “Please sit, my love. Some of the news may overset you.”

“Alexander, please, you’re worrying me.” I reached for his coat sleeve.

He was my anchor. My everything. We had weathered so much together. He knew me better than anyone. Sometimes better, even, than I knew myself. If he believed I would find the news upsetting, then it must be something dreadful indeed.

He kissed my brow. “Sit first. I’ll not have you swooning and injuring yourself or the babe.”