Page 47 of How Not to Marry a Duke

“Why?” Hasmik asked.

It was a pleasant spring afternoon as they walked in Hyde Park. The promenade hour had just begun, and ladies with colorful gowns and carrying parasols strolled arm in arm together, some accompanied by gentlemen, while others rode in carriages and on horseback. Tall trees shaded the walking path, and a slight breeze blew from the Serpentine River and ruffled the tendrils of hair that escaped Adeline’s pins. The scent of shrubs and evergreen filled the air.

“Because we are living beneath Lady Heywood’s roof, and I must continue with this charade with her godson.” The countess was unexpected in a pleasant way, and Adeline enjoyed her company.

Hasmik touched her arm. “She likes you and that’s all that matters. You should just try to enjoy London.”

“I suppose you are right. It’s been a month since I’ve seen my sister. I’m eager to catch up with Mary.” If she timed it right, perhaps Edwin would be out of the house at one of his clubs. It would be heaven to spend time with Mary without the dark shadow of Edwin hovering over them.

“Do you plan to tell Mary the truth? We never discussed it,” Hasmik said.

Adeline hesitated before shaking her head. She was close with her sister, and they had grown up almost as twins. It never mattered to either of them that their birth mothers were different. But her situation with the Duke of Warwick was unique, and Adeline didn’t want to involve her sister in the subterfuge. Mary was kind and tenderhearted, and she would be shocked at Adeline’s arrangement and might let the secret slip to Edwin.

“No. The fewer people who know, the better. Appearances are everything if our plan is to succeed.”

Hasmik scanned the crowded park. “Well, you were right about this interlude at the park. Many eyes will be upon us.”

Most of the well-dressed people in attendance were here to be seen rather than to enjoy the refreshing outdoors. As the daughter of an earl, Adeline was familiar with the fickle nature of the beau monde. Warwick may not care about Society’s rituals, but he was a duke, and as such, he would attract the most attention.

As if she conjured him, she spotted Warwick’s tall frame heading down the gravel path toward them. Sunlight glinted off his golden brown hair and illuminated his striking features. Even from this distance, he made her breath catch.

“He is prompt,” Hasmik noted. “It is a good quality in a man.”

Adeline forced herself to smile and raised her hand to give a jaunty wave at the same time her voice lowered. “He had best be on time. It is our first planned London outing together, and we need to get a few tongues wagging before our first ball.”

Hasmik chuckled. “Just the sight of that man will get tongues wagging.”

Adeline had no time to answer before Warwick approached and bowed. “Good day, ladies.”

Adeline curtsied. “Good day, Your Grace.”

“It would be my honor to escort you about the park, Lady Adeline.”

A couple a few yards away took notice of the duke and began to whisper to each other.

Good. Let them all see.

“It is a lovely day for a stroll, Your Grace.”

Warwick offered his arm and Adeline rested her fingers on his sleeve. Hasmik trailed behind at a proper distance. A chaperone wasn’t needed in a crowded park, and the woman knew how to make herself scarce.

Adeline tilted her head to the side and gifted Warwick with a smile. His green gaze met hers and he grinned. They began to stroll together, his long legs setting a slower pace so that she could walk beside him.

A group of riders noticed them and slowed their mounts. Another couple in a gentleman’s high-perched phaeton watched them.

“Your idea was a splendid one,” Warwick said. “I do believe that lady almost fell off her sidesaddle ogling us.”

Adeline laughed then, a rich and genuine sound to her own ears. “I do believe you have a sense of humor.”

Warwick’s eyes gleamed. “Only for those I’m most comfortable with.”

The toe of her shoe caught on a stone, and she stumbled. Warwick’s hand was quick to cover her own hand on his arm and steady her. She was highly aware of the heat of his touch. Sensations rippled through her and, despite the warm weather, she shivered. “Careful. The path isn’t even here.”

It wasn’t the path, but his words that had made her trip. Goodness, had he just confessed he was becoming comfortable around her? They had spent time together. She’d treated his wound; he’d watched her work.

But comfortable implied a level of intimacy as if they were a true couple, which they were not.

Definitely not.