Alcott Hall: Second Sons Book Three

Alcott Hall: Chapter 16



Burke’s mouth fell open in surprise, as next to him, Rosalie shrank back. “Oh, Madeline,” she murmured, her tone almost sympathetic.

Recovering his senses, Burke barked out a laugh as he glanced at the duchess. “Oh my god, can you even imagine?”

Madeline deflated instantly, shoulders slumping in embarrassment.

“Burke, don’t be cruel,” Rosalie chastised.

“I’m sorry.” He stepped forward, daring to reach out and place a firm hand on Madeline’s shoulder. She stiffened under the weight of it. “Madeline, I am. I’m truly sorry, but no.”

“Why not?” she murmured, tears stinging her eyes. “You are unmarried.”

He stifled another laugh. “And is that your only prerequisite?”

“You could take my dowry and make it your own,” she urged. “I’d never question you on that score. And if I am not…if you don’t…we would never have to be intimate,” she forced out, her thoughts still buzzing with the memories of Mr. Warren. “But if you demanded it, I would—I trust you, Burke—”

“Oh god,” he groaned, dropping his hand away.

“Do you see what you’ve done?” Rosalie snapped at him. “You thought you were so clever spouting your nonsense about ravenous affairs.”

He looked instantly penitent. “Madeline…” His hand raised and lowered back to his side as he watched her shrink away from his touch. “You honor me with your proposal, but I cannot accept. Frankly, I can’t imagine two people more poorly matched for matrimony than you and I. Perhaps George and I,” he added under his breath. “But seeing as that match is illegal, I consider myself more than safe.”

Madeline took a step back. “Do you never wish to marry then?”

He tensed, his gaze darting to the duchess. “It’s not a question of whether I want to marry—”

“But you could set the terms,” she urged. “We would never have to see each other again after we said the vows, if you preferred it. You could be free of me. A paper husband, as you said. And I would never fault you for seeking your pleasure elsewhere if you never wish to be with me in that way—”

“Madeline, stop,” he urged. “This conversation cannot continue. It would be impossible to marry you, as I consider myself already married.”

Those words had the effect of a cannon blast, splintering the walls of the drawing room, rattling in Madeline’s chest.

Mr. Burke is married?

Rosalie sighed, stepping away to snatch up her glass of Madeira, turning her back to the pair of them.

Madeline tried to read the expression on his face. “Married? But…when?”

He shrugged. “It’s not official or anything, and never can be,” he said with a wave of his hand. “But I consider myself married, and so I am. Thus, I cannot marry you…lovely though you may be,” he finished gently.

She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“It is not for you to understand,” he replied. “I have made my choices, and I am beyond content in my current situation. I will not leave Alcott Hall. I will not abandon my post as steward. The Corbin’s are my family. I belong here. I can be your friend, Madeline. Your devoted friend,” he added with a kind smile. “I will help you in any way I can, but I cannot marry you.”

She nodded, biting her lower lip. It was madness anyway. What would a man like Mr. Burke ever see in her?

Her shoulders slowly relaxed and, before she knew it, she was smiling. Mr. Burke took a step back in surprise as her pained smile turned into a laugh. Rosalie turned, her own eyes wide as Madeline lost herself to a fit of laughter.

In moments, the other two were both smiling. When the first laugh left Burke’s mouth, Madeline bent over, gasping for breath, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Did—did I just ask you to marry me?” she said through her gasps.

“Aye, you did,” he replied, his face stretched into a grin. “And I turned you down flat.”

They doubled their laughter and Rosalie stepped forward, one hand on her stomach. “And he wasn’t even your first choice,” she added, tears in her eyes. “You were after Tom when you first sat down.”

“Holy god, I nearly forgot about Tom,” Burke howled, wiping a finger under his eye. “Rosalie, please, when he comes home, can we tell him he’s engaged? Oh god, his face. I can’t—” He turned away, snatching up his glass of Madeira and draining it.

Madeline clutched at her sides, trying to settle her breathing as Burke turned back to face her.

“Now that we’ve gotten all the truly terrible ideas out of the way, why don’t we see who is left and go from there?” he teased.

Before she could reply, there was a knock at the door, and a tall footman entered.

“Ah, Jeremy,” Burke called. “Just the man we wanted to see. You’re unmarried, right?”

The footman blinked as Madeline’s smile fell. “Yes, sir,” he replied.

“Wonderful, have you met Lady Madeline?” He waved a gallant hand towards her.

Madeline gasped.

Rosalie stepped forward and gave Burke’s chest a light slap. “That is enough out of you,” she ordered. “I don’t want to hear you speak another word about this for the rest of the night.”

“Run, Jeremy,” he called around her. “Before you’re next to be caught in the matrimonial snare!”

Madeline groaned, turning away.

Ignore him, Jeremy,” the duchess countered. “Mr. Burke is confused—”

“Mr. Burke is hungry,” he retorted, still all smiles.

“Dinner is ready, Your Grace,” the footman announced, his tone wary as he kept himself glued to the doorframe.

“Is His Grace back from Carrington?” Rosalie called.

“Yes, Your Grace. Only just. He’s changing now and said to begin without him.”

“Very well.” Rosalie sighed, glancing over her shoulder at Madeline. “We don’t stand on much formality here, I’m afraid. The fire has upset our sense of normal. We even have a few families staying here in the servants’ hall and outbuildings. We’re hosting a dinner for a few of them tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not in the least,” Madeline replied. “It is kind of His Grace to show such care.”

“That’s James,” Rosalie said with a loving smile. “He carries the weight of it all.”

“Yes, thank providence he has such broad shoulders,” Mr. Burke teased, waiting for them at the door.

“I don’t mean to lay all the credit at his feet,” Rosalie replied, taking his offered arm. “You’ve been indispensable too, Burke.”

He smiled, placing his hand over hers as he led her forward. “I wasn’t searching for a compliment. I just like ruminating on the broadness of His Grace’s shoulders.”

“Incorrigible,” Rosalie muttered with a shake of her head.

“Utterly irredeemable,” he replied with a wink.

Madeline watched their verbal sparring with a sense of awe. They flowed together like birds in flight, wordlessly following a pattern only they knew.

“Oh, and we’ve had word from the parsonage, Your Grace,” the footman called.

Rosalie and Mr. Burke both paused and turned. “Yes?” she replied.

“Mr. Selby sends his regrets he cannot attend dinner tonight, but he offers the company of his nephew in his stead.”

Rosalie and Mr. Burke exchanged a glance. “His nephew?” Rosalie asked with a raised brow, clearly unsure of the gentleman’s identity.

A sudden change came over Mr. Burke as his smile fell. He glanced sharply from Rosalie to Madeline. “Oh, goddamn it.”


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