Free Madeleine's Christmas Wish by Ella Quinn

but Georges’s moss-green eyes shuttered, telling her nothing of his thoughts. “He was sent to oversee me after Papa’s death. He began to attempt to spend more time with me than necessary, and I soon realized he thought to marry me.”
    â€œDid he make advances?” Georges’s tone was so cold, she shivered.
    â€œNo. I think he wanted to, but I always had my butler with me.” She thought back to her last conversation with him. “I kept putting him off. I think he must have realized I would never wed him.” She rubbed her forehead. There was something else. She stared at the white tablecloth, trying to remember. “I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but I believe I saw him outside the gate of our house in Beaune when I was taken away.” Madeleine gazed at Georges for a moment, then continued. “I was seated between two men. Perhaps he communicated with one of the people with me.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe I imagined it.”
    Georges’s large hand covered hers, his gaze warm and comforting. “I don’t think you did imagine it. The name Coupe is well known to some of us.”
    She remembered the look that had passed between Georges and Lord Jamison. “How is that?”
    â€œI will tell you later.” His countenance shuttered again, and she was unable to read anything from his expression. “For now, we need to get to Beaune as quickly as possible.”
    Madeleine’s chest tightened. “You mean that Maman and Genevieve are in more danger than I thought?”
    â€œYes.”

CHAPTER 7
    G eorges hadn’t meant to frighten Madeleine so much. He went around the table, drawing her up and to him. She trembled in his arms. “Shh. If he wants the title and the land, he won’t act this soon.” He would not tell Madeleine that the type of auction the brothel would have held for her would have taken time to plan, and Coupe could afford to take his time. “Come, let’s be on our way. We have a long night ahead of us.”
    They reached Dover shortly after dawn, having talked until the possibilities of what could occur were exhausted as was she. “Wake up, my love. You’ll be able to have a bath at the Ship. After which, we’ll break our fast, and walk around the town.”
    She blinked. “Have you slept at all?”
    He hadn’t, but she didn’t need to know that. “Yes. I dozed. I’ll sleep more when we reach Calais.”
    â€œ Merci beaucoup for all the care you have taken of me.” She smiled shyly before kissing his cheek.
    He wanted to draw her into his arms, but no. He would not have her feel beholden to him. If—when she came to love him—it would be because of himself, not what he’d done for her. “There is no need to thank me, you are my wife.”
    Two hours later, they strolled through the town and the docks. Next to a pie shop, a sailor tipped his hat, dropping a piece of paper. Georges covered it with his foot. “I believe those rectangular pastries are a local meat pie called coffyns. Would you like to try one?”
    â€œOh, yes. I would.”
    Damn, why didn’t he wear more fobs? Oh well, he never used his quizzing glass anyway. He dropped it to the pavement. When he bent to pick it and the paper up, he was surprised the quizzer wasn’t broken. He opened the door for Madeleine, before reading the note.
    Clear.
    God or fate, perhaps both, were with him. Crumpling the message, he put it into his greatcoat pocket and paid for the pie she’d ordered.
    Madeleine took a bite. “Oh, this is heavenly.”
    â€œThe Rutherfords like them as well.”
    â€œI think Lady Rutherford has superb taste.”
    A few hours later, as they were making their way back to the Ship for an early dinner, a flash of blue in a jewelry store caught his eye. Georges stopped, stared at the bracelet, and sent up a