The Mad, Bad Duke (Nvengaria #2)(93)

Alexander rose to his feet and took Meagan by the elbow. “Anastasia, tell Myn what you just told me, but neither of you act yet. I will decide whether I should let you deliver me to von Hohenzahl. For now, I need to be a host and keep my guests speculating on why I like to disappear into anterooms with both my wife and my mistress.”

Myn remained silent, but this was usual for him. He glanced at Meagan and Alexander as Alexander guided Meagan toward the door, then his gaze moved back to Anastasia as though he could not keep it from her.

Anastasia dropped her lids over her eyes, her face still red. Alexander bustled Meagan out the door, his fingers points of warmth on her arm.

“Good gracious,” Meagan said in a low voice as they moved back to the ballroom. “I will never forgive you for not telling me, Alexander. We ladies like to know when our friends have found someone.”

“I believe what she has found is a challenge,” Alexander replied, in no way chastised. “It will be good for her. She’s built heavy walls around her heart and hidden herself behind them.”

Meagan studied Alexander’s granite-hard face and the line of black whiskers on his jaw. “Well, you ought to know all about that.”

His eyes were still. “Why do you think I understand her so well? We both have dealt with our grief by burying ourselves in our work.”

“You don’t always, you know.”

He frowned in sudden perplexity. “Don’t always what?”

“Have to bury yourself. Not any longer.”

Alexander stared down at her a moment, blue eyes narrowing. Abruptly he scooped her to him, his arm hard on the small of her back. His lips came down on hers, briefly searing her, and then he was gone.

He strode away from her back to the ballroom, nearly colliding with Egan MacDonald who was heading toward them.

Egan watched Alexander’s retreating figure in surprise. “Everything all right, Your Grace?”

“’Tis as usual,” Meagan said, taking his arm. “Danger, intrigue, Alexander stubbornly trying to solve all the problems of the world himself. A typical day in the household of the Grand Duke of Nvengaria.”

Egan bellowed laughter, but the laugh was hollow and his brown eyes looked haunted. Meagan studied him in concern. His face was unusually pale, and he had dark smudges under his eyes, as though he hadn’t slept much of late.

“Egan, what is it?”

Egan returned her look innocently. “What is what?”

Meagan pulled him to a halt outside the ballroom. “You are not very good at pretending, at least not to me. Has something happened?”

Egan’s usual good-natured look deserted him. For a moment Meagan thought he’d glare at her and walk away.

“I had some news that I did nae like, and I’ll thank you to not repeat it to anyone.”

“I’d never betray a friend’s confidence,” Meagan said indignantly.

Egan nodded, chastised. “Aye, you’re a good sort, and Alexander doesn’t deserve you, but I’ve always said that. Remember the Nvengarian lass I told you about?”

“The one called Zarabeth? Oh dear, is she ill?”

“No.” Egan shook his head, his wild hair moving. “I had a letter from Damien about her husband, who turns out to be a black-hearted, good-for-nothing, be-damned …” He broke off, eyes filling with pain. “I beg your pardon for the language, but I’d like to murder the son of a bitch.”

The viciousness in his tone worried her. “Why? What has he done?”

“He’s been scheming against Damien, pulling Zarabeth into it, unwittingly on her part. She’s a sweet lass, never would hurt anyone.” Egan grimaced. “Well, except for the time she nearly hit me on the head with a whisky bottle, but I deserved it. Her husband is a hard, cold man, I’ve been told, and Zarabeth had to choose between loyalty to him and loyalty to Damien, her cousin. She chose to tell Damien of her husband’s plots, and she’s holed up in Damien’s palace while her husband stirs up an insurrection.”

“An insurrection?” Meagan said in alarm.

“Hush, lass, that’s not for general knowledge. Damien is not worried about this particular uprising and thinks it will be put down in a trice. Apparently, it’s not the first one he’s had since coming home.”

“Good heavens, does Alexander know?”

“Of course he does. Damien tells him everything. Apparently it’s not so dire that Damien would call Alexander home.”

Meagan relaxed slightly, but her annoyance stirred. She’d been thinking so eloquently that Alexander had let her unreservedly into his life, but she realized he had not shared every secret with her, including the one about Myn and Anastasia. She would have a few things to say about that.

She patted Egan’s arm, wanting to comfort him. “Damien and Penelope will take care of your Zarabeth.”

“Aye, I know they will, but it kills me not to be there where I could take a knife to the blackguard.”

“It’s likely Damien would not let you. Zarabeth is his cousin. Prince Damien will avenge her—he has enough power to do so.”

“Aye,” Egan repeated. “But it’s a hard thing, lass. Zarabeth would not want me to protect her even were I there. We were friends, but we did not part on the most cordial of terms. She never even told me of her marriage.”