"Mrs. Danner?"
A chill ran through her. But it made no sense. The night she'd returned home, when he'd thought she was dead, Malloryn had been almost inconsolable. The way he'd made love to her on that desk had been proprietary, and then he'd spent all night in her arms.
"I'm sorry." Lena squeezed her hand. This was the way it had always been between them. Friends didn't lie to each other. Nor did they keep devastating secrets like this.
"No," Adele said, her heart giving a little squeeze in her chest. "I needed to know that. I thought...."
"You thought?"
I thought he cared for me.
But why had he not told her?
"I didn't realize Mrs. Danner was also kidnapped."
Even as she said it, her mind—that blasted devious little thing that drove her mad sometimes—began working. He'd said Mrs. Danner was only a friend and never a lover, and she'd trusted him. But both Adele and the opera singer had been kidnapped. And Malloryn had arrived at the opera too late to save her.
All of the blood drained out of her face.
A choice.
He'd been given a choice.
She just knew it.
"Adele." Lena bit her lip. "I'm the only person you'll never be able to fool, remember?"
It was instinct to protect herself, but Lena was right. They knew each other too well. And Lena could no doubt hear the rapid beat of her heart.
"When I came home, he was so shocked to see me. He thought I was dead. And he... well..." She pressed her hands to her burning cheeks. "He was quite demonstrative of the fact he was pleased I was alive. I'm so confused."
Lena's amber eyes softened in distress. "You care for him."
The sudden surge of tears took her by surprise. "No. I—I—" Yes, said her heart, giving another brutal twist in her chest. And suddenly she understood what it all meant: the way she watched him; that dance at the ball; the hungry way she turned for his kisses.... Malloryn, the icy duke who pulled the strings of everyone he knew. "Oh, no."
Practical, ruthless Adele. Where are you now when I need you most?
"It could be nothing," Lena said hurriedly. "Maybe he was given the wrong information? Maybe he thought he was rescuing you?"
Adele forced herself to face the facts, dashing the tears from her eyes. She stood, pacing to the fireplace, but even though the grate was warm there was no heat there. Not for her. "Malloryn doesn't make mistakes. He's not stupid enough to fall for the wrong information—"
"Unless he was emotionally compromised?"
And Adele made herself laugh, feeling utterly miserable. "My husband doesn't know the meaning of the words."
Or did he?
One moment she was dealing with Malloryn, who remained impenetrable, and the next she saw hints of something else. The man behind the mask.
Yet it wasn't enough.
He'd slipped into bed with her last night when he'd thought her asleep, and Adele had curled in his arms, but not once had he mentioned that Mrs. Danner had been kidnapped.
What did that mean?
"I need fresh air," she said. "I've been cooped up in here for two days."
"A stroll in the park outside?" Lena suggested.
"Perfect." She needed sunshine on her face and the day's heat on her skin. She needed to breathe the scent of grass, and smile and laugh, and remember she was alive. Regardless of whether her husband had made a choice or not, she was still alive. That fact could not be discounted.
She could heal from a broken heart.
And never let herself suffer such a risk ever again.
But it was not to be.
Herbert appeared out of nowhere in the foyer and stepped between the pair of them and the door, clasping his hands behind his back. "Sorry, Your Grace. But you're not allowed to leave the premises."
Adele stared at him in shock. "What? Why?"
She knew the who. Not a damned thing happened in this house without Malloryn pulling its strings.
"The duke's orders."
Suddenly she saw red. "I see. Is my husband due anytime soon?"
"He is expected momentarily."
"I'll wait." Adele locked all of the hurt deep inside herself as she gave Lena another hug.
Lena squeezed her firmly. "If you need me...."
"I know."
At least she had this one thing she could count on. A friend.
"And talk to him," Lena suggested. "Maybe it's all just some vast mistake."
But Adele didn't dare let herself hope.
The expression on Herbert's face warned him.
Malloryn tossed the man his hat and coat, and then paused with one foot on the staircase. "Something you want to tell me?"
He had the eerie suspicion he'd watched this entire scene play out already.
"I believe Her Grace is upset," the butler replied.
Thank God. He'd thought someone had died. "Not unusual," he replied, continuing up the stairs, "She's been through quite an ordeal—"
"With you," Herbert stressed, and shot him that look again.
Malloryn's step on the stairs slowed. "With me?" That made little sense.
"Her friend, the verwulfen ambassador's wife, was here," Herbert volunteered. "Your wife wanted to take a walk in the nearby park, but I suggested most emphatically she remain behind."
Lena Carver. Malloryn began to draw the scarf from around his neck. What had she said to Adele to upset her? Or was it locking her inside the house? "Send for a light supper. But perhaps give us a half hour before you bring it."
Enough time to soothe Adele's ruffled feathers and remind her he was doing this to keep her safe.
One step inside the study, and there she was.
Sitting in the window seat, the late afternoon sunlight streaming over her and gilding her hair. Her hands lay in her lap and she may as well have been a statue. There was no sign of her smile. No sign of the wicked glint he'd begun to recognize in her eyes.
Malloryn's eyes narrowed. Now he was coming to know her, he could sort through her moods relatively easily.
Her Grace was not just upset.
No. Not a single sign of tears afflicted her, and she wore that cool, disaffected mask he knew so well. Walled up, her expression told him. And you are not welcome here.
This was beyond upset.