Page 65 of Duchess By Accident
Natalie watched him go, her head spinning, her heart aching, and she began to cry.
“You are a fool, Natalie Rokesby. A complete and utter fool.” She shook her head. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. There will not be a third time.”
She would make sure of that.
Chapter Twenty
“Another.” Adrian gestured to the empty glass of whiskey in front of him.
He was sitting in an armchair at White’s. After he had left Natalie, he could not face returning to Blackwood House. The hurt on her face had twisted something inside of him, and he had not trusted himself not to tell her everything.
“What is happening to me?” Adrian curled his fingers in his hair, scowling at his empty glass. “This is not who I am.”
He shook his head. Away from his wife it was at least a little easier to think clearly. Or he hoped it would be anyway. Something stirred in his chest and he forced it away.
The servant returned with a decanter of whiskey and a slip of paper. “Your whiskey, your Grace. And this was also delivered for you.”
Adrian took the slip of paper from the man, and slipped him a guinea. “I trust you will forget the face of whomever sent this.”
“Sent what, your Grace?” The servant pocketed the coin.
“Exactly.” Adrian nodded.
The servant bowed to him. “Let me know if there is anything else I can do for you.”
“I will. Thank you.” Adrian poured himself a measure of whiskey and inclined his head towards the servant, letting the man know he had been dismissed.
Adrian looked at the slip of paper between his fingertips. As soon as he had left for London, he had instructed his valet to find out whoever was behind the rumours. He knew that they would still need to fix Natalie’s reputation, but he had no intention of letting her slanderer remain unpunished.
The rumourmonger was a thorn in Natalie’s side, and he had no desire to let it fester. He flexed his fingers, growling softly to himself until he realised what he was doing and stopped.
“No one can be allowed to hurt my wife.” Adrian muttered, a fierce protectiveness swelling up in him.But what about me?
A stab of guilt rose in him as he recalled the hurt expression on her face. It was for the best. His weakness had hurt her too.
“How does she unmake me so easily?” he whispered, staring at his reflection in his half full glass of whiskey.
The smell of Natalie’s perfume seemed to surround him and he found himself breathing deeply. He froze as soon as he realised what he was doing. Gritting his teeth, he tried to focus on their argument, to ignore the tether that was tightening between them.
The feel of paper in his hand reminded him of the servant’s note. He opened it and let out a hiss of anger and frustration. There were two words written on the paper, in a hand that Adrian recognised as his valet’s.Marquess Bolton.
“That snivelling little worm.” Adrian cursed and downed his whiskey. “I should have seen this sooner. I would have seen this sooner. Damn me for a fool. I should not have let her get to me like this.”
“Women do have a tendency to do that.” A man’s voice murmured from a nearby chair.
Adrian whipped around and found himself looking into a familiar face. “I thought you knew better than to eavesdrop, Caverton.”
“Hardly eavesdropping if you speak so loudly that a woman three streets over could hear you, Blackwood.” Frederick Felton, Duke of Caverton, grinned at him.
He was a little younger than Adrian, with a mess of curly brown hair and an air of cockiness about him. They had first met at Eton, and had remained friends, though their encounters had lessened once Adrian had become a father.
“And what exactly are you doing here?” Adrian asked, arching his eyebrow at his friend. “I have just come from your ball.”
“Grandmother’s ball. Let us be honest, it is her affair, not mine.” Frederick shook his head. “Mine just happens to be the London House she likes best, and the title she still shares.”
“Then she is still running things.” Adrian arched an eyebrow at him.
“Of course she is.” Frederick gave a wry smile. “I run the duchy and grandmother orchestrates increasingly extravagant events to try and trick me into marriage.”
