The Mad, Bad Duke (Nvengaria #2)(72)
“Are you afraid of him, Egan?” Meagan asked, eyeing him curiously.
Egan shrugged. “I haven’t decided. I’m happy he’s found a sweet thing like you to be his bride, but sometimes I feel that cold stare on me—”
He broke off and jumped to his feet. Meagan swung around to see Alexander leaning on the doorframe of the large room, bathing Egan in a good example of the cold stare. How long he’d been there Meagan had no idea.
Her heart missed a beat in relief. She let go of the chess piece she’d been righting and skimmed across the room to her husband. Alexander’s coat was unbuttoned, his sash of office in his hands, his shirt unlaced to show a V of throat and chest.
“Alexander.” Meagan threw her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. He smelled of fresh air, woods, and green things.
Alexander’s broad hand landed on her back. His embrace tightened a moment, then he gently released her.
“MacDonald,” he said neutrally.
Egan held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Don’t be giving me that look, Your Dukeness. I was merely keeping your wife company—er entertaining her—er … Damn it, man, we played chess all night and she beat me like I was wet behind the ears. Lost a fair hundred quid to her.”
“Which you do not have to pay,” Meagan said quickly. “It was kind of you to stay with me.”
“A man pays his debts of honor, even the Mad Highlander.” Egan gave her a self-deprecating smile. “I’ll send the money around with my batman. The lazy sot needs something to do.”
He swept Meagan a bow, nodded to Alexander, then moved past them to the hall. The two men never took their eyes off each other.
Once Egan had made his way around the gallery and started down the stairs, Alexander closed the door.
Meagan wanted his kisses, needed them—but she also wanted to scold. “Where on earth did you go? Did you kill von Hohenzahl?”
For answer, Alexander pulled Meagan into his arms. His lips heated hers, and for a moment she didn’t mind that he didn’t answer her question.
When Alexander eased away he frowned as though he had to think about what he’d been doing. “Von Hohenzahl? No. I believe he will no longer be a threat, at least not immediately.”
“Then what have you been up to?” Meagan’s heart squeezed. “Or is this something a wife, especially not the Grand Duchess, should ask?”
Alexander looked different somehow, softer about the eyes, as though he’d discovered new knowledge that made him thoughtful. He touched her cheek, his fingers gentle, no anger in him. “I will tell you soon. It is a good secret, love, I promise you that.”
“Layers of lies,” Meagan said, remembering what he’d told her the day he’d proposed to her—if she could call Alexander’s demand for her to drop everything and become his wife a proposal.
Alexander shook his head. “This has nothing to do with Anastasia.”
“The ton is gossiping like mad, you know, watching you hie off with her and shunting me to Egan.”
Alexander moved farther into the room, his gait restless, and paused to absently right the remaining chess pieces. “How have you heard gossip? You were to go nowhere after you departed the French ambassador’s house.”
“Well, I imagine the ton is gossiping like mad,” Meagan admitted. “When my stepmother comes to visit tomorrow, she will tell me everything.”
Alexander turned, the black king in his hand, his stance more relaxed than Meagan had ever seen it. “I left Anastasia at her hotel before I approached von Hohenzahl,” he said quietly. “I promise you that.”
Meagan gave a little laugh. “Do you know, if any other gentleman protested he hadn’t the remotest interest in a beautiful woman with a perfect face and lovely eyes, I would call him a liar. But you, I believe.”
Alexander inclined his head. “I am grateful for your trust.”
She went to him, unable to keep even a room’s distance between them. “It is not trust—I have learned how your mind works. You compartmentalize everything, especially people.” Meagan halted next to him and drew a line with her finger along a row of squares on the chessboard. “Here are the ones you cannot trust.” She made a second line. “Here are the ones you can trust until they prove otherwise. Here are the ones useful for this; there are the ones useful for that.”
She made neat columns with her forefinger, dividing the board into even rows. “Everything and every person goes into a compartment. Somewhere, perhaps in a box of her own, you have your wife.” Meagan moved the white queen into a black square. “She charms others for you, she informs you of what she learns from them, and every once in a while, she provides you with a son.” Her voice grew soft as she set the black queen in a white square. “Sometimes she is named Sephronia, sometimes Meagan.”
Meagan felt the weight of Alexander’s silence and found his eyes focused sharply on her, his gaze hot with whatever fire he usually kept dampened.
She sometimes believed she felt no fear of Alexander because he always had half his mind on something else. But now as he focused the full of his attention on her, Meagan realized the true power within him, and not only because he held the title of Grand Duke.
Here was a man who had firmly ruled Nvengaria from behind the throne and had nearly succeeded in taking over. Here was a man who had razed part of his own city to rid it of corruption. If Alexander ever seemed tame, it was because he wanted to turn that face to others in order to disarm them. Behind the civility was a ruthless man descended from barbarian tribes, and Meagan realized she had awakened him.