Page 5 of A Duke's Unwanted Bride
Rothwell’s wife.
No, his widow.
His newly wealthy, now very free widow.Warner rubbed a hand over his mouth as he paced. It had been after he kissed her hand that Rothwell had collapsed. The image of Lady Adelaide’s wide brown eyes swam before him, full of innocence and shock. Or had they truly been?She has the most to gain from his death.
Anger rose up within him, but he clamped it down hard. He needed to stay in control; he needed proof. He clenched his fist, the memory of the slight flush of her cheeks when they had met, the pretty way she had blinked at him and then looked away, her lips slightly parted. Who would suspect a pretty thing like her? With those big, brown eyes and her shy smile? He growled.
“And somebody, find me that widow.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” a chorus of voices sounded, and the last of the Bow Street Runners and the coroner left the room, leaving Warner alone with his uncle.
His uncle stared around the room as though he were not seeing what was there. His hands shook; his lips trembled. His hair was in complete and utter disarray. Warner doubted he looked much better.
“Uncle?” Warner’s voice was gentle, as though he was talking to a scared, wounded animal.I suppose in some ways he is. The man has just lost his son.
The thought pierced his heart like a blade, but he pushed his pain aside. There would be time for that later. He cleared his throat and moved closer to his uncle, trying once more to get the broken man’s attention.
“So much blood. So quickly. The sound…” His uncle shook his head and clutched his stomach. “I did not know a man could make such a sound.”
Warner swallowed, the memory of his cousin’s last breaths playing in his mind, and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “We need to write to Tobias. To tell him what has happened and that… and that he must come home and take up his duties as heir.”
His uncle nodded but made no move towards his writing desk. Warner was debating whether to gently guide him to it when there was a knock at the door.
“Enter,” Warner called when his uncle remained silent.
The door swung open, and the smell of roses told him who it was before she even entered.
Lady Adelaide walked into the room. There were no signs of tears around her eyes, and she walked with a calm grace that surprised Warner. The Bow Street Runner who had fetched her closed the door, leaving the widow, Warner, and his uncle alone.
Flecks of blood spattered her dress, and her russet hair was wild and messy. Warner realised that he had been reaching towards her and clenched his fist, curling his arm behind him.
“Duke Erindale, I… I do not even know what to say.” Lady Adelaide curtseyed, her voice gentle but unshaken. “I am so sorry for your loss. How are you?”
His uncle made no answer, and Warner cleared his throat. “My uncle is as well as can be expected, Lady Adelaide.”
Spots of colour appeared on the woman’s cheeks. Her eyes flitted to his and then away quickly. The hairs on the back of Warner’s neck prickled.
Avoiding eye contact. Interesting.
Still looking at the floor, Lady Adelaide asked, “You wished to see me, Your Grace?”
“Yes. I have some questions for you, some things that I must know if we are to get to the bottom of all of this.” He gestured tothe empty sofa, and she sat down, curling her hands into fists in her dress. “Please sit down.”
He sat in the chair across from her, straightening as he did. She fidgeted beneath his gaze, and he leaned forwards. Silence stretched between them. Her wide, warm eyes made her look so young, innocent, and he felt an urge to go to her and shelter her. His brow creased.Focus.
“I imagine you had a rather different image of your wedding breakfast.” He arched an eyebrow at Lady Adelaide, watching for even the smallest movement.
“Just a little.” Her smile was small and brittle, not quite reaching her eyes, and it tugged at something within his chest. “I doubt many women expect to become a widow on the same day as they are married. His death… it has changed everything for m-me.”
Lady Adelaide’s eyes widened as she stumbled over the word, and she hastened to add, “What I mean is… well, many people will have been imagining a future with him, not just me. I mean with him in it. After all, your uncle… I mean… I doubt even you expected your farewell to be quite so permanent. Not that I am making light of this. It is awful, truly awful what happened.”
She shuddered, wringing her hands in her lap. Warner surveyed her. Her hands were clenched tightly, delicate bones showing white at the knuckles, and her slippered foot tapped on the floor. The movement of her foot brushed aside the fabric of her dress for just a moment, exposing the bare skin of her ankle. Warner’s mouth went dry, and he swallowed, looking up into Adele’sface.Did she do that on purpose?“And what do you think happened?”
“I assume he was murdered.” Her eyes flicked up to meet his, her head canted in question.
There was a clatter from behind them, and they turned to see his uncle clutching an upset ink bottle. “I should leave.”
“Duke Erindale, I —” Lady Adelaide began, but his uncle cut her off. “Forgive me, Lady Adelaide. I… I cannot be here.”
