Page 10 of How Not to Marry a Duke

Warwick sprinted to the porch and pushed the door all the way open. Lady Adeline stood in the center of the parlor arguing with a man. But not just any man.

Edwin, the Earl of Foster.

Warwick avoided London society, but he could pick his childhood nemesis out of a thick crowd. Tall with pale hair and brown eyes, Edwin had an arrogant air, a smugness of expression that bordered on narcissism. Warwick’s blood pounded. He’d been right about the painting in the back of the wagon. Edwin’s resemblance to his father was uncanny.

Engaged in a heated argument, neither noticed him standing in the doorway. He used the opportunity to take in the scene. A broken vase and flowers lay scattered on the floorboards in a puddle of water.

He’d overheard enough of the argument to understand the situation between brother and sister. The Earl of Foster sought to arrange his sister’s marriage to a moneylender named Mr. Slade. Adeline refused.

His gaze was immediately drawn to Adeline. Her blue eyes flashed with anger and her mahogany curls cascaded across her shoulders and down her back. She was dressed in a strange garment. Her breasts heaved beneath the low neckline and a silk sash was cinched at her slender waist. Her legs were encased in loose-fitting trousers. Whatever she was wearing, it was definitely not English, and he suspected that she had been unprepared for her brother’s early morning visit. She folded her arms across her chest in a protective motion. She looked alive, lovely…and vulnerable.

Her beauty was exquisite. Thick, dark lashes framed blue eyes. Her lips were full and rounded over even teeth. Her garment emphasized her figure, and her curves were singed in his memory as he’d hauled her against him in the yard. But it was her spirit that called out to him, unafraid and fiercely challenging as she faced the earl. Warwick couldn’t look away.

A man who easily mastered complex mechanical devices, he often struggled to interpret emotions. But any difficulties he’d had in the past didn’t apply now. Adeline’s brows were drawn downward, and she lowered her hands, her fingers clenching the sides of the loose-fitting garment. She was furious and frightened.

Clearly, Edwin was the cause of her distress. Warwick didn’t like it, not one bit. His own fists clenched, and he wanted to pounce forward and tear Edwin away from Adeline and toss him out the door.

He inhaled, then slowly exhaled. Violence wouldn’t do. Not here. He disliked Lord Foster, but this wasn’t Eton, and they were no longer boys. His breath may burn in his throat at the sight of the earl, but whatever occurred in this cottage had nothing to do with him. He should walk away.

Instead, he took another step into the parlor and cleared his throat. “Pardon the intrusion.”

Two pairs of eyes met his. One brown, one bright blue.

Adeline blinked and her lips parted. “Mr. Millstone. What are you doing here?”

“Your pig decided to visit me in my workroom.”

“Henry?”

“Do you own another pig?”

“No.”

Lord Foster’s brows slashed downward. “What on God’s earth are you two talking about? And why are you here, Your Grace?”

Adeline’s gasp echoed through the parlor, and she pressed one hand to her heart. “Your Grace?” She shook her head. “You must be mistaken. This is my neighbor, Mr. Millstone.”

“Your neighbor? You’re the one who is mistaken, Adeline.” Edwin’s lips twisted with dislike. “May I have the pleasure of introducing you to His Grace, the Duke of Warwick.”

Bloody hell. Of all the people to expose his identity, he’d never dreamed it would be Edwin. The man seemed to relish revealing his title. Christ! Lord Foster had been an ass as a youth. Nothing had changed.

Warwick’s gaze clashed with Edwin’s. “May I inquire what’s going on here?”

Edwin waved him away like an annoying fly. “This is a family matter that has nothing to do with you, Your Grace.”

Warwick’s already surly mood veered sharply to anger. “Ah, but you have a grating voice, Foster, and I could hear it all the way down the lane. It sounded much like your failed argument in the House last year when you wanted to limit soldiers’ pensions. You were outvoted and outranked as I recall.” He enjoyed putting the earl in his place. “As for today, I feared the lady was at the mercy of brigands or thieves and in need of aid.” Warwick eyed the shattered porcelain vase on the wood floor. “I wasn’t far off.”

Edwin’s eyes narrowed. “As you can see, there are no brigands or thieves. My discussion with my sister is not your affair.”

Warwick had already overheard Adeline’s objection to Foster’s plans of marrying her off to a moneylender. Would her will, or the earl’s, prevail?

Despite his dislike of the Earl of Foster, he knew the man was right. Warwick had no standing to interfere. The pig was in its pen, and her hounds had ceased howling. He had no reason or right to stay. No reason to concern himself with the drama unfolding before him.

Then why am I hesitant to leave? Was it because of his animosity toward his childhood bully? Or something else?

It’s not my concern.

He needed to extricate himself from the family drama taking place. It was not his fight, no matter how intriguing he found his neighbor. Warwick started to turn away just as the earl reached for Adeline’s arm. She winced.