Page 78 of A Duke for Adela
“I could not let him hurt you, Ambrose.” She was on the verge of tears and needed to explain her motives so he would understand them and not believe her to be a reckless dolt. “I am not sorry about what I did. Why can you not simply accept it? He was going to shoot you.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? Is that not reason enough? Dear heaven, I did not realize he had a pistol in hand and thought he was just going to toss a rock. I’m glad I did not know. But I don’t think it would have changed my actions no matter the risk. You are too important to me and I don’t ever want to see you hurt.”
She paused now that Watling had returned with clean cloths and brandy.
“Thank you, Watling,” Ambrose said and gave a curt nod of dismissal which the dear butler ignored because he had no intention of walking out until he was certain she was not seriously harmed.
“Your Grace, I shall be just outside in the entry hall should you require anything more. You have only to call out and I shall rush in.”
Adela could see the kindly, old man was overset by her condition. Even though Ambrose had dismissed him, he still stood beside her regarding her with fatherly concern. “Forgive me, Your Grace…but perhaps Miss Adela would like a nice cup of tea.”
Adela smiled up at him. “That would be lovely, Watling. Yes, please.”
However, she was not smiling when she returned her attention to Ambrose and the permanent scowl affixed to his face. Why was he still angry with her? In the first place, he had no right to be even the littlest bit miffed. “I thought you were different from the others.”
He paused in his ministrations to glance at her.
“I thought you would understand and be appreciative,” she said, taking a deep breath in order to muster her resolve. “Not that I need accolades, but I do not need to be frowned at and told my actions were heedless. Would you feel the same if I were a man and had brought Runyon down?” She answered for him. “No, you would not. You would have been thanking me and inviting me to share a drink.”
“But you are not a man.” To prove his point, he stroked his hand lightly along her leg once more, the rough pads of his fingers surprisingly arousing and sending her heart into flutters.
The gesture was blatantly seductive.
He saw her responsive blush and was ridiculously pleased by the way he had so easily disconcerted her. Well, he was not really gloating about it. But she caught the glint of satisfaction in his eyes.
Such gorgeous eyes.
What did he see when he looked at her?
A hoyden?
A hellion?
A mistake?
Was he now trying to think up a way to bow out of marrying someone so unsuitable to be his duchess?
If he wanted out, she was not going to stop him. “Is this what our marriage is to be, Ambrose? Me walking on eggshells, always afraid of disappointing you?”
He was frowning again.
This is what happened when a couple did not love each other…well, she loved him but he did not love her.
Was he going to run into the arms of Lady Victoria now? Her heart twisted just thinking of the possibility.
“This is going to hurt, Adela,” he said gently, holding up the cloth he was now dousing with brandy. “In fact, it will sting like blazes. Just hold your breath.”
“I don’t care. I am already going to cry.”
He sighed. “Why are you going to cry? I haven’t even applied the cloth to your knees.”
“I am going to cry because…” She released a ragged breath. “I wanted you to fall in love with me and now it will never happen. I can just imagine what is going through your mind, the regret that you did not accept Lady Victoria’s offer of an assignation.”
“Are you serious?” His eyes turned an even stormier shade of gray than they already were. “This is what you think of me? That I would rather be in the bed of a married woman? One who cares so little of her husband’s feelings that she approaches me in front of her friends and even strangers who happened to be dining at the Wilton Hotel? Am I supposed to admire her more than the young woman willing to risk her own life to save mine?”
“This is precisely my point. You ought to be admiring me, but you are not. You look upon me as a disappointment and just wish me to go away, just disappear. Believe me, I know that look. I have been on the receiving end of it for much of my life.”
