Page 25 of His Scarred Duchess
“They were exquisite,” Adeline said, warming to her task. “Lady Townsend wore a stunning emerald-green silk gown that perfectly matched her eyes. And the Countess of Marlowe hadon a gown of deep purple velvet with the most intricate gold embroidery on the bodice.”
As Adeline described the various fashions she’d witnessed, her mind couldn’t help but wander to the stranger in the garden. What had he thought of her simple blue gown, now stained and rumpled from her misadventures? She wondered what he might look like in the full splendor of evening wear, rather than the shadowy figure she’d encountered in the moonlight.
“Adeline? Are you listening to me?” Isabella’s voice broke through her thoughts.
Adeline blinked, focusing on her sister’s puzzled face. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
“I asked if you danced with anyone interesting,” Isabella repeated, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “But it seems your mind is elsewhere. Could it be that my spinster sister has finally caught someone’s eye?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Adeline scoffed, though she could feel a blush creeping up her neck. “I’m simply tired. It’s been a long evening.”
Isabella, however, was not so easily deterred. “Oh, come now, Adeline. I know that look. Who is he? Is he handsome? Rich? Do tell!”
For a moment, Adeline was tempted to confide in her sister. To share the exhilarating, confusing encounter that had set her heart racing. But the memory of her father’s words in the carriage held her back. She couldn’t risk Isabella’s future for the sake of a fleeting fancy.
“There’s no ‘he,’ Isabella,” she declared firmly. “Just the usual crowd of lords and ladies, none of whom spared me more than a polite nod.”
The light in Isabella’s eyes dimmed slightly, and Adeline felt a pang of guilt for disappointing her.
“But enough about my uneventful evening,” she continued quickly. “Tell me, what have you been up to while we were out? Besides reading novels you probably shouldn’t, that is.”
As Isabella launched into a detailed account of her day, complete with dramatic reenactments of particularly juicy scenes from her latest literary acquisition, Adeline found her thoughts drifting once again.
The stranger’s laugh echoed in her head, rich and warm. The way his eyes had crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the intoxicating scent of sandalwood and leather that had enveloped her when he stood close. It was foolish to dwell on such things, she knew. And yet…
“Adeline!” Isabella’s exasperated voice cut through her thoughts once more. “You’re doing it again. Are you sure you’re quite well?”
Adeline shook her head, forcing a smile. “I’m fine, truly. Just tired, as I said. Perhaps we should continue this in the morning? I fear I’m not very good company at the moment.”
Isabella pouted for a moment but then yawned, betraying her own fatigue. “Oh, very well. But don’t think you’re excused. I want to hear every detail over breakfast.”
After exchanging goodnights and seeing Isabella safely back to her room, Adeline finally allowed herself to relax. She changed into her nightgown, her movements slow and methodical as she tried to clear her head.
But as she lay in bed, staring up at the canopy, sleep proved elusive. Every time she closed her eyes, she sawhisface. Heardhisvoice.
Who was he? Would she ever see him again? And why, after years of being overlooked and dismissed by gentlemen due to her scar, did this stranger affect her so?
Adeline turned onto her side, punching her pillow in frustration. This was madness. She was leaving for Scotland soon. There was no point in entertaining such fanciful notions.
And yet…
She couldn’t help but replay their encounter, analyzing every word, every gesture. The way he’d looked at her, not with pityor revulsion at her scars, but with genuine interest. The spark of challenge in his eyes as they traded barbs.
For the first time in years, Adeline had felt trulyseen. Not as the scarred spinster, the burden to be shipped off to the countryside. But as a woman of wit and spirit, worthy of attention.
As the hours ticked by and sleep continued to elude her, Adeline found herself indulging in impossible daydreams. What if she were to see him again? What if, by some miracle, he saw beyond her scars and station? The questions multiplied in her mind, each one more tantalizing than the last.
She groaned, burying her face in her pillow. This was precisely the sort of foolishness she’d always prided herself on avoiding. She was practical, level-headed. Not some moonstruck girl swooning over a chance encounter.
With a sigh, she rose and dressed quietly. As she slipped out into the cool morning air, Adeline took a deep breath, trying to center herself.
The garden was peaceful at this hour, free from judgmental gazes. Here, she could just be herself. And if her mind occasionally wandered to moonlit encounters and laughing gray eyes… Well, there was no one here to know but her.
For now, at least, she could allow herself this small pleasure.
Chapter Eleven
“For heaven’s sake, Edmund,” came an exasperated voice from his left. “You look as though you’re facing your doom, not a garden party.”
