Page 98 of Unraveled By the Duke
“A man whose patronage is valuable for an artist.”
“His collection is one of the finest in the country, outside of the National Gallery,” Celia said. “His patronage is already bearingfruit. He has paid in advance for a series of landscapes of the City of London. Twelve paintings to display in his home!”
She was practically bouncing on her toes with excitement.
Alexander grinned, happy for his wife’s success. Happy for her happiness, in fact. It did not matter where it came from. He would that she was always smiling and bouncing on her toes. He would that her eyes were always shining the way they were now.
When she told him how much the Duke of Westminster was offering for the commission, he gaped. It was more than the debt he owed to Grimaire. Much more.
Alexander turned to face his wife, his arms around her waist, those around them fading to the background. She beamed up at him, probably not realizing that she was his savior. She had been from the moment she swung a vase at his head and set them both on this path.
Without her, he would have been a bitter, cold man who resented his father and hated the world, convinced that his hatred and loneliness were strength.
“I love you, Celia,” he whispered and kissed her.
EPILOGUE
Alexander entered the tavern, which was located just off the Strand. A woman stood on a table and sang to the tune of a fiddle and a drum being played by two men who stood on either side. People sang along in a dozen different tunes and with as many different melodies.
The air smelled of ale and straw, with an undercurrent of peat and tobacco. He glanced at the woman and shook his head. Celia could not sing.
He moved through the common room, a tankard of warm, foaming ale in his hand, barely touched. The customers of theWorship’s Bootwere a mixture of sailors, dock workers, and gentlemen like him.
He sat at a table where a card game was underway. The players were all men hiding from their wives and their ages, reveling in the reckless pastimes of youth. Maxwell’s hand thundered down on his shoulder.
“It is good to see you, my fine, married friend. And in such a place! I had despaired of ever seeing you anywhere but ballrooms and Vauxhall Gardens!”
Alexander sipped from the tankard before putting it down. He could tell that his friend had already imbibed more than one—couldsmellit on him.
“Turney, how goes the night with you?” he asked.
“Better for the return of my friend. Has married life finally lost its luster?” Maxwell asked, indicating to the dealer across from them that they both be dealt into the game.
“Never. I am here for an altogether different purpose.”
“And what is that? To increase the fame of this already famous establishment with your presence?” Maxwell drawled, turning his cards over by the corners.
“And how should I do that, exactly?” Alexander asked, casting his eyes around the table at his fellow players.
Two wore army officer uniforms. One was a rotund man with thick whiskers and a red face. The other was a young man with thick spectacles and long, dark hair that hung over his face.
“You must know. The most famous duke in London. Business partner of the Duke of Westminster. Philanthropist. And the only man to get the better of Sir Nathaniel Grimaire at court.Midas himself! You are celebrated, my friend. I do not know what has happened these last six months.”
“Marriage made me, old friend,” Alexander admitted, watching the next cards dealt and making his wager.
Maxwell looked again at his own cards and grimaced, turning them over. “Fold,” he said.
The young man and one of the officers, as well as the rotund man, made wagers. Alexander raised.
“Indeed? Marriage? To Celia? What was her name?”
“Frid. Daughter of the Earl of Scovell. And yes, I am aware it began as a marriage of convenience. But it has since become something more.”
Maxwell took a long swallow of ale. “Everyone knows the story, old chap. It was circulated by the gutter press. I have never seen the scandal sheets championing someone, let alone a duke! They are damnably revolutionary at times. However did you get them on your side?”
“Through my friendship with the Dowager Countess of Cleland,” Alexander said, raising again after another betting round.
Only he and the young man were still in the game. He watched him carefully, thinking that there was some familiarity in his dark eyes.
