Page 73 of How Not to Marry a Duke

“Truly?”

He winked. “Trust me.”

Butterflies fluttered in her chest. His teasing nature had its intended effect. She followed beside him, her attention drawn to his profile from beneath lowered lashes.

The bookstore was not a hubbub of activity and didn’t seem like a hotbed of gossip. Once more, she wondered if Warwick knew what he was talking about. Still, she did enjoy the surroundings. Hundreds of books were on display for the establishment’s patrons. When her father was alive, he’d had a membership to Hookham’s. A yearly fee of forty-two shillings entitled a member to take out twelve books from the circulating library. Visitors could browse the collection, and if they found a novel they wanted to own, a special arrangement could be made with the bookseller to purchase a book. It was a wonderful arrangement for both the patrons and the bookshop.

Warwick escorted her to a reading room where tables and comfortable armchairs and settees were arranged before a fireplace with a marble mantel. A large window allowed for plenty of sunlight. Patrons could peruse newspapers, magazines, and books in casual comfort here. It was also an area where a patron might wait while one of the books they’d selected was fetched by a clerk and delivered to the reading room.

The door opened and a servant wheeled in a tray and offered both coffee and tea to those reading or waiting for their reading material to be delivered.

Adeline could spend an entire afternoon here, drinking tea and reading books. Mary would love it as well, and Adeline made a mental note to bring her sister here soon. Mary could even bring her notepad and pencil and write her next novel while Adeline read beside her. It would make for a lovely afternoon.

Warwick brushed her sleeve, and she was reminded of their purpose here today. “Are you certain we will attract attention?” she asked.

His lips curved in a smile. “Leave it to me.”

He motioned for her to sit in a settee then sat close beside her. Her nerves tingled with awareness. Several ladies eyed them above the edges of their magazines and novels.

“Do you see those two in the corner?” he asked.

She did. Either the pair of middle-aged women were not as engrossed in their books or the presence of the dashing duke was enough to draw their attention away from their penny romance novels.

He opened a newspaper and raised it for them to read together. For all pretenses, it looked like they were using the paper to cover a romantic interlude. Warwick waggled his eyebrows and Adeline giggled. She was enjoying herself. He inched even closer on the settee until his muscular thigh brushed her skirts. Her heart leaped wildly in her breast. A lock of hair fell rakishly across his forehead and gave him a boyish appeal. Only he was a man, one who was “courting” her. Sitting on the settee, heads together behind the newspaper, it would be easy to ignore the outside world and focus entirely on him.

Except that would be reckless.

She could hear the two women in the corner whispering, no doubt about them. Soon after, the ladies stood and left the reading room.

Warwick lowered the newspaper. “No doubt they will spread gossip.”

She pressed a hand to her heart and giggled. “I anticipate tomorrow’s edition of the Scandal Sheet.”

The door opened, and two different women entered the room.

Adeline’s smile faded along with her joy. A sinking feeling settled low in her stomach.

“What is it?” Warwick asked.

Adeline lowered her voice to a whisper. “Those two. I overheard them gossiping at the dressmaker’s the other day.”

“About us, I assume.”

She shook her head. “Not at first. They were too busy talking about my mother.”

He looked at her quizzically. “Your mother?”

“They called her an Arab foreigner who practiced a heathen religion and traditions. I’m no better in their eyes, you see, because I’m a harem girl who enticed a duke to court her.”

His eyes widened and he visibly stiffened. “Bloody hell.”

At his anger, her cheeks grew warm, and her lashes lowered. “It’s not the first time others have insulted my mother. Or me. My mother understood their prejudice. She said it was from fear and ignorance. She also told me to ignore those who chose to spew nonsense. Not everyone holds hatred in their hearts.”

“You mother was a better person than I am, and I cannot begin to understand the prejudices your mother had to face. Or that you do.”

“What should I do? Confront them? Lash out?” She shook her head. “No matter how badly the urge to retaliate, I do not want to give them the satisfaction.”

“If they were men, I would challenge them to a duel.” Warwick’s voice was hard, cold.