Page 11 of How Not to Marry a Duke

Warwick’s gaze met hers, pain and anger and fear flashing in the blue depths of her eyes. Something tightened in his chest, something uncomfortable and unexpected, and, before he could stop himself, he turned back, his booted feet solid and square on the hardwood floor. He shot the earl a penetrating look as the words escaped his lips.

“You’re wrong, Foster. This matter has everything to do with me. You see, I’m courting your sister.”

Chapter Three

I’m courting your sister.

Comprehension came slowly for Adeline. She’d barely begun processing the shock of her ornery and handsome neighbor being the Duke of Warwick, and now he announced they were courting?

Confused thoughts and feelings tumbled through her. What on earth was the duke thinking? They’d met only once, and it hadn’t been pleasant. Oh, she recalled their physical collision before Henry had charged. The shock of the heat and hardness of him when he’d hauled her against him had been quick, but unforgettable. The shock on his aristocratic face as the pig had nuzzled him after the fall had been just as remarkable. She also remembered the first time she’d seen him—the golden brown hair, the chiseled profile, and the piercing green eyes—were not ones a woman could easily forget.

Until he’d opened his mouth. She’d thought him arrogant and high-handed.

So why would Warwick claim that he was courting her?

Adeline stole a quick glance at her brother, and he looked just as taken aback.

“What did you say?” Edwin released her arm.

The duke arched an imperious brow. “I said I’m courting your sister. If you’d given her a chance to explain, I have no doubt that she would have told you herself.”

“I see.” Edwin turned to Adeline. “Is it true?”

The words were thick as molasses in her throat. “I…I—”

“She is obviously speechless from happiness,” Warwick interrupted. “It has been easy to keep our secret in the country far away from the gossipmongers of the ton. We realize it will have to come to light soon enough when we return to Town.”

Edwin eyed him with a critical squint. “This is…unexpected.”

The duke held his gaze. “Unexpected, indeed.”

“From what I’ve heard, Warwick, you’re interested only in intellectual matters and associate with scientists. Not women.”

“That’s because I never met a woman like your sister.” The duke flashed a wolflike smile at Adeline that suddenly caused her heart to thump in her chest and her frayed nerves to tighten.

“Who knew the country air could inspire such sweet romance?” He motioned to the scattered flowers across the floorboards. “I see my flowers have fallen victim to your…discussion. I gave them to the lady only yesterday.”

Edwin’s eyebrows shot up, even as his mouth curled in a sneer. “Your flowers? Do not tell me you have written poetry as well?”

The duke shrugged. “Her beauty inspires me.”

“From what I’ve heard, steam engines inspire you.”

Understanding dawned as Adeline watched the exchange between her brother and the duke. Clearly, they had a past—and it was not pleasant. And somehow, she’d become a pawn in whatever standoff they were now engaged. She wanted to demand an explanation from the duke but couldn’t until her brother departed.

Warwick sighed. “I find you tiresome. What will it take for you to believe us?”

Foster tore his attention from Warwick to glower at her. “Is there a witness to this courting? You are a maiden alone in the country and your virtue is at stake.”

Adeline shook her head, heart pounding. The notion that he was suddenly concerned with her virtue was ridiculous. He couldn’t wait until she’d left their Berkley Square home. He’d never inquired about her whereabouts or what she’d been doing in the small country village.

“I’m not alone. Hasmik is with me,” she said.

Edwin glowered. “That dark-skinned heathen is hardly a proper chaperone.”

Adeline’s temper spiked and she glowered. “Do not speak of her that way! She has been with the family for years and is my devoted companion. Father always treated Hasmik with respect and kindness.”

“Only because your mother had bewitched him with her Middle Eastern concoctions.”