Page 16 of The Marquess’s Stolen Bride (Dukes Gone Dirty #3)

16

H ayden felt like a man possessed as he strode down the narrow alleyways that made up the area known as Vestry Lane.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Malcolm asked.

“Yes.” No . Of course Hayden didn’t know what he was doing. Did he look like a man with proper reasoning skills? He doubted it. He’d shown up on Malcolm’s doorstep crazed with suspicions and fury.

The worst part was, he knew not where to direct his anger.

He didn’t want to be angry with Madeline. He didn’t want this nagging poisonous suspicion anywhere near their marriage. Everything in him wanted to believe her, to trust her…

But he couldn’t. Only a fool would trust a woman who’d lied and stolen.

He stopped short, leaning forward to catch his breath and try to get his head on straight.

Malcolm stopped beside him, his arms crossed. “Hayden, you know better than to believe a word that swine Foley says.”

Hayden straightened. “Indeed. I do.” He threw his arms out wide. “But tell me. What am I to believe when my wife will not speak to me. When she goes behind my back, and…and…” He trailed off with a curse, looking away from the sympathy in Malcolm’s eyes. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Malcolm’s voice was level, but there was a hint of amusement there that had Hayden glancing over in question.

“Remind me to tell you the sordid tale of the way I met my wife,” he said with a wry smile. “Actually, no. Forget that. Vivian would murder me. Just know that I understand what you’re going through better than you know.”

Hayden let out a huff of exasperation. “Then you know why I must confront Foley.” He looked to the gaming hell, the exterior bland and nondescript, but the interior an extravagant shrine to vice, just like nearly every other seemingly benign townhome and shopfront on these seedy streets. “If Foley has the answers, I need to hear it.”

“It’ll be lies, every word out of his mouth,” Malcolm said. “He’s manipulating you, and you know it.”

“Maybe. But it would be a start at least, wouldn’t it?” He turned back to Malcolm with arched brows. “Clearly he and her mother are holding something over her.” Something inside of him settled as he acknowledged that point. It was the one thought that gave him hope.

He’d meant it when he’d told her he could forgive and understand just about anything…if she were being honest.

“If they’re blackmailing her or forcing her hand in some way, I need to know so I can help her.”

“And if she’s not the victim here?” Malcolm said quietly. “If she is indeed complicit in some way?”

“You don’t believe that,” Hayden said.

Malcolm shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what I think. You are her husband. You are the one who needs to decide if you trust her or not. What if she is complicit in some way? I know you’re thinking it. You wouldn’t be here seeking answers if not.”

Hayden’s heart ached at the thought, and his jaw felt like it might shatter as the suspicions and jealousies he’d been trying to avoid speared him in the chest. He didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t even want to think it. But she’d left him no choice. If she’d only just spoken to him, offered some sort of explanation…

But she hadn’t. And he would not fall for a woman’s lies. He would not be made a fool by his own wife.

“If she’s not innocent then…then I’d need to know that, too,” he finally answered.

Malcolm said nothing, but his slight flinch gave him away.

“You think I’m wrong not to take her at her word.”

“I didn’t say that,” he said. “If my wife were keeping secrets from me, it would drive me mad as well.”

Mad. The word made him think of her father. The mad earl, everyone called him. Hayden could only imagine what she’d endured in her lifetime. With him for a father, and the countess as a mother... He nearly shuddered at the thought of the other woman. She’d spoken of her daughter like she was cattle to be bought and sold.

His poor wife had gone through so much.

“I want to believe her,” Hayden said, the words plaintive. He felt like a child begging Malcolm to understand.

Malcolm nodded. “You have your reasons to find trust difficult. More than most, I’d imagine.”

Hayden tensed at the inference to his mother and stepmother.

“But Benedict was right when he said that trust is a choice,” Malcolm continued. “And it’s one every man must make for himself when he enters into marriage.”

Hayden looked away. “Maybe you’re right,” as he spoke he began to walk toward the gaming hell again with renewed determination. “But I gave my wife a chance to explain and she wouldn’t.”

“So, you’re going to Foley for answers?” Malcolm called after him in disbelief.

“No,” he said, slowing so Malcolm could catch up. “I’m going to Foley for information.”

“Hayden—”

Hayden lifted a hand to cut him off, stopping short just in front of the gaming hell. “I’m not saying I’ll believe a word he says. But innocent or not, my wife needs my help. And I cannot help her if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Malcolm seemed to be stewing that over. “I don’t know that this is the right way to go about it, old friend. You’re not acting like yourself.”

Hayden gave a huff of rueful amusement. “I haven’t acted like myself since I found Madeline alone in that prison of a bedroom. I don’t suppose there’s any going back at this rate.”

Malcolm chuckled. “Perhaps you’re right. Even so…”

“Look, Malcolm, I brought you here in the event that this venture goes awry and I need a second,” he said. “But if you’d rather turn around?—”

“Don’t be daft,” Malcolm said. “Of course, I’m not going anywhere. Besides, we both know that you’ll be safer on these streets if you’re with me.”

Hayden acknowledged this with a grunt. Everyone knew that Malcolm’s bastard brother was the man best known as Beast on these streets. He was an enforcer for the mysterious and powerful man the locals called King, and everyone knew to steer clear of anyone linked to Beast. Even if the two men were far from friends, being his brother made Malcolm the safest man in this neighborhood.

“Come on then,” Malcolm said with a sigh, leading the way past a guard at the door who regarded them with a dark glare.

Inside, the air was thick with smoke and loud with raucous laughter. Whores draped themselves over the well-dressed gentlemen who gathered at tables near the back, mounds of coin heaped on the table before them.

Foley spotted them first and shouted over to them, his smile one of smug satisfaction. Almost as if he’d been expecting them.

“Little maggot,” Malcolm muttered beside him.

“I honestly have no idea how he’s stayed alive this long,” Hayden said.

Together they made their way toward the weasel who was whispering in another man’s ear. The fellow looked up from his cards with a start. The man was unfamiliar to Hayden but he was dressed well enough. He had a thick, well-oiled mustache and beard, and a cigar dangled from his lips. But it was the predatory look in his eyes that made Hayden’s gut clench with wariness.

“Birds of a feather,” Malcolm muttered as they drew closer.

Hayden grunted his agreement. The bearded man stood and towered over Foley, but there was something disgustingly similar in their demeanors. It was cruelty mixed with triumph.

Whatever they were up to, they clearly thought they held the upper hand.

The thought that either man had anything to do with Madeline made him temporarily overwhelmed with fury. His steps faltered.

“You all right?” Malcolm asked.

“I will kill him,” he growled. “I will muder them both.”

Malcolm put a hand on his shoulder with a weary sigh. “And this right here was why I’d thought it best to wait until you had your emotions under control.”

Hayden shrugged him off as the two men headed toward them. “I’ll never have control of my emotions where Madeline is concerned.”

Malcolm glanced at him in surprise at the admission. But what was the point in denying it? His life had been upended the moment he’d met her. Everything he’d thought was important was flipped on its head. His freedom? His independence? Bah! They’d paled in comparison to having someone to take care of. And then he’d gotten to know her and it was suddenly impossible to imagine what life had been like before her.

And now…

Hell, now he couldn’t begin to imagine what life would be like if he lost her.

“I had a feeling you’d come,” Foley said, his lips curved in a sneer. “Not too good to address me now, are you, Lord Hayden?”

Hayden ignored him. He’d learned long ago that this was the best way to infuriate a sycophantic little arse like Foley, who wanted nothing more than to prove himself a man.

“Who are you?” he said to the bearded man.

“Name’s Mr. Percer, my lord.” His smile was insinuating and left Hayden feeling queasy.

“Percer. Just what do you have to do with the lies this jackass was spouting to me earlier?”

“I beg your pardon,” Foley sputtered. “I came to you in good faith to tell you what sort of woman you’d wed.”

Hayden reached out and snatched the pissant up by his neck, choking him until he turned red.

It was a testament to the sort of establishment King ran that not a soul stopped what he was doing to pay any attention.

“Careful what you say about my wife, Foley,” Hayden said, his voice low and calm despite the way his blood boiled with rage. “She is a marchioness and anything you say against her you will pay for with your life.”

“My lord, I assure you,” Percer started, his hands up and his gaze maddeningly innocent. “Foley and I only want to spare you humiliation in the future. Indeed.” His smile was sickeningly triumphant. “I do believe you’ll be indebted to me for my honesty once you’ve heard what I have to say.”

The man toyed with his mustache, feigning humility so poorly that Malcolm muttered an exasperated oath beside Hayden.

“You may even wish to support my business once you’ve learned the embarrassment I could spare you and your…wife.”

The derisive tone he used to say ‘wife’ left Hayden shaking with rage and he let his hand drop from Foley’s neck.

“It’s money he’s after,” Malcolm murmured, derision clear in his voice. “Another attempt at extortion, I’d guess.”

Hayden’s eyes narrowed on the bearded man. “Speak now before I kill you,” he growled.

The man’s eyes flared wide, and he looked to Malcolm who shrugged. “He may just kill you anyway. You’re an awfully unlikeable fellow. I’d speak if I were you.”

“Yes, well…” He cleared his throat. “You must know we are trying to look out for your best interests, Lord Hayden.”

“Of course,” Foley said, rubbing his neck. “The countess herself asked that we convey this information. She did not wish for you to be saddled with her wayward daughter without knowing the truth of her character or the extent of what she’d done to get herself locked up in that tower.”

Hayden seethed with fury, but behind that pounding rush of anger, he knew he needed to hear this. Whatever lies they were about to spew.

And they were lies. He knew that, too.

He trusted her that much.

The thought was a punch to his gut. He trusted her. He did trust her. But he forced his attention back to the men. “Tell me then.”

“You see, sir, the rumors about her being locked in that tower were true. But not for the reason you believe,” Foley said. “The countess did it for the girl’s own good. To keep her from ruining herself. You see, the girl has a…” He glanced over at Percer, who looked grim. “A penchant, you might say. She inherited her father’s wicked urges, you see…”

He looked to Percer again, and the man dipped his head in a poor imitation of humility and embarrassment. “I didn’t know she was meant to marry another, you see?—”

“Say it,” Hayden growled.

Say whatever slander you have in mind and be done with it.

“Well, I’ll just say this….” Percer arched his brows meaningfully. “Man to man, you know.” He leaned forward. “That birthmark is in just the right location, isn’t it? Looks like a map to the holy land, if you know what I mean.”

Hayden’s mind flashed on the birthmark on his wife’s thigh. His blood ran cold even as his mind scrambled to justify this man’s knowledge of his wife’s body. Her mother told him or…or…

His mind went blank as the men kept talking.

He barely knew what they said. And it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. For in that moment, he knew the truth. He didn’t need an explanation.

He knew not how this man was aware of his wife’s body, he only knew that his wife was innocent. She’d been a victim all her life, and these men meant to make a victim of her now.

Rage the likes of which he’d never known gave him an unearthly sense of calm. It all seemed so simple and so clear.

He trusted his wife.

He loved his wife.

And he would happily kill any man who set out to harm her.

“Meet me at dawn,” he said to Percer.

“What?” The other man sputtered, his face going red. “I’m trying to help you, my lord?—”

“By spreading lies about my wife? I think not. I’ll see you at dawn. You choose the weapon.”