Page 11 of A Duke's Unwanted Bride
“They found poison on them!” Adele’s voice sounded far from her ears.
“Not yet, but they will. And when they do…” the Duke trailed off. “Well, let’s say that you ought to enjoy your freedom while it lasts. You will not escape my net much longer.”
“Why are you doing this?” She tensed, pressing her hands against the wall, ready to push off and try to make her escape.
The movement moved her closer to the Duke, and she felt his own muscles tense behind her. Her blood roared in her ears, heart pounding in her chest. Adele steadied her legs.
“I owe my cousin a debt. One that I will never repay, now that he is dead.” Was that pain in the Duke’s voice? His next words were so cold that Adele was sure she was mistaken. “The least I can do is catch his killer.”
“Then why are you wasting your time with me?” Adele pushed away from the wall, whirling around to face him.
The Duke had moved, but not enough for her to escape his grasp. She could see every detail of his face. His cold blue eyes full of raw emotion, his handsome mouth parted in surprise — and then it was gone, replaced by his smug smirk.
“If you are as innocent as you proclaim, then you have nothing to worry about.” He reached towards her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he leaned close and whispered, “But I think we both know, you are nowhere near as innocent as you profess.”
She closed her eyes. The feel of the Duke’s fingers against her skin sent a shiver down her spine. Her legs shook. “You are wrong.”
She opened her eyes and the Duke was gone. There was nothing but an empty alley. The only proof the Duke had ever been there was the faint scent of sandalwood.
I am going to wipe that smug smirk of his handsome face if it is the last thing I do!
Four
“What the devil is she playing at?” Warner frowned down at the report his private guard, Mr. Porter, had just handed him. “You are sure of what you saw?
They were standing in the study of Scarfield castle. It had been nearly a week since he had seen his cousin’s widow at the gentleman’s club, and in that time, she had managed to become a nearly constant headache.
“Yes, Your Grace. It was definitely her. She had those widows with her.” Mr. Porter wrinkled his nose. “Mind you, they were dressed as men, but I saw through their disguises.”
“But why were they there?” Warner chewed on his lip. “What would they want at a boxing match?”
“As far as I could see, they simply wished to enjoy the fight. I followed her after, but she went straight back home.” Mr.Porter shrugged. “She visits many places, sometimes dressed as a man, sometimes a woman. Sometimes with her friends and sometimes alone.”
Warner scanned the list of places Lady Adelaide had visited, trying to put together a pattern, but he could see none. Well, he could see some, namely that many of them were once familiar to him.
That version of me is gone.He would not let it back, not when his cousin had spent so long saving him from it.
The places Lady Adelaide visited were scandalous yes, but nothing that seemed to suggest she was the poisoner. If anything, it looked like the adventures of a particularly rebellious youth.
“She certainly seems to be enjoying herself,” Warner muttered, and to his irritation, he realised that the corner of his lips were quirking into a smile.What is wrong with me?“It seems she took my warning to heart.”
Unbidden, the scent of roses filled his mind. The memory of the warmth of her against his body in the alley set his hairs on end, and he absently ran a hand across his chest.
How she had thought anyone could mistake her for a man in that disguise, he would never know. Even with that ridiculous, fake moustache, she had been far too beautiful to be anything but a woman.
His eyes fell onto one location, and his heart skittered to a halt. “These visits to the docks. Do you know what they are about?”
“She goes to the King’s Arms.” Mr. Porter clearly mistook Warner’s shocked expression for something else and added, “It is a public house, Your Grace.”
“I am aware of it, thank you,” Warner replied drily. “I have even graced it with my patronage on a few occasions.”
Mr. Porter flushed and tugged at his collar. “I was not sure if you would be. It is a rather… rough establishment. Few people of your station would see fit to visit.”
“That is one way of putting it. Which begs the question, why are she and her friends going there so often?” Warner traced his finger across the name of the pub.
Is this proof of her guilt?
To his irritation, he had found it increasingly difficult to believe that the woman had murdered his cousin. Yes, she still had the most to gain, but even from his brief interactions with her, there was something that did not seem to fit her as a killer.
