Page 50 of A Duke's Unwanted Bride
His eyes took in the half-finished projects, the sketches, the baskets of thread and pincushions scattered around like little velvet hedgehogs. “You do seem to have quite the collection going — I am surprised the accountant has not asked me for a bigger allowance for you.”
“Much of the fabric I managed to get at a discount — partly because of the amount I have ordered and partly through a… connection of sorts.” She cleared her throat and looked intently at the cloth she was dyeing.
“I am guessing this connection is someone you met through Mr. George? Please tell me this fabric is not illicitly gained; no discount is worth that.” He took a step towards her, his brow furrowing.If she has put herself in danger over some fabric…
She gave him an affronted look, one hand resting on her chest. “Of course not! There is a certain amount of waste from the production of such things — sometimes something goes out of fashion more quickly than expected, sometimes there is a fault in the machine. They cannot sell the fabric at full price, so you get a discount.”
“Very crafty of you if you will pardon the pun.” He felt the corner of his lips quirk upwards but stopped it.
“In this instance, I’ll consider it.” Her own smile forced one from Warner’s lips. “Besides, I thought on a limited amount of money, frugality would be best.”
“If you need a larger allowance, all you have to do is ask.” His brow creased and then understanding hit him. “You have not been using your allowance though, have you? You have been using Mr. George’s accounts.”
“How do you know about those?” Adele’s eyes went wide, and she stopped stirring the pot with the fabric in it.
“I did not; it was a guess, and you have just confirmed my suspicions.” He smirked at her snort of irritation but could see a hint of amusement in her eyes as she swore under her breath.
“Such language, Adele. And here I thought you were a lady,” he teased and perched himself on one of the few bits of exposed desk as he surveyed his wife.
“You are hardly some shrinking violet; I think you will survive a little cussing.” She shook her head, blowing a strand of hair from her face. “Besides, it is very irritating when you trick me into admitting things I would rather not share.”
“Have you not heard? A husband and wife should have no secrets from one another.” He put his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching towards her and brushing the hair from her face.
The memory of their night in the inn settled over him, the smell of her almost overwhelming the smell of dye. His heart tugged at him, trying to beat out of his chest towards her, but he refused to move.
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Because you have been so forthright with me?”
“I have answered the questions you have asked. I can hardly be blamed if you have not asked the right ones.” He shrugged and massaged his neck as his eyes met hers. The rich brown color reminded him of warm earth in the heat of summer.
“Pray tell me, what are the ‘right’ questions?” Her eyes narrowed.
“You will know them when you find them.” He made a dismissive gesture and moved towards her. “You should save your secret money.”
“Why? Do you fear what might happen if I am left at your mercy?” Though her tone was light, Warner saw her shoulders tense as she spoke, and her fingers tightened around the wooden paddle.
“No. I know you value your independence, and I can only assume that if you run out of your own funds, that will add to your need to rebel against things. I would not have you feel trapped, Adele.” He met her gaze, willing her to see the earnestness in his words.
“I do not feel trapped.” She licked her lips and then looked away. “Besides my allowance should go to the house, not be spent on frivolous hobbies.”
“Few people spend so many hours on their hobby, Adele. I would say it is more of a passion, and I would say it is a rather practical pursuit at that. Dressmaking is an art, and even I can see that your skill is improving.” He gestured to one of the half-dressed mannequins. “Consider it an investment in your talent and one that I am happy to make.”
“I would feel like I was taking advantage of your generosity.” She dismissed the idea.
“Then make me something.” Warner said without thinking, his hands tracing along a bit of soft, purple fabric.
“Are you asking me to make you a dress, dear Duke?” He turned to see Adele giving him an amused smile, mischief dancing in her eyes. “I suppose it would at least show off your arms.”
“You think my arms are worth showing off?” He flexed his muscles and saw spots of colour appear on her cheeks.You are playing a dangerous game, Warner.
But he could not help but want to make her blush. To want her to smile.Stop it.He found himself wrapping the fabric he had been stroking around himself, careful not to disturb any of Adele’s projects or work.
“What do you think?” He gave her the kind of bow that belonged on the stage.
“That you are utterly ridiculous.” Adele let out a giggle. “Though the colour does suit you. It’s a nice contrast with your hair and eyes, and cut right it would…”
She trailed off a faraway look on her face as she moved to one of the sketchbooks closest to her.
“Are you imagining the kind of gown you would create for me?” Warner teased, the fabric still wrapped around him. “I think you are right; short sleeves would be best. Give the ton something to look at.”
