Page 54 of A Duke's Unwanted Bride
“And what makes you think that I do not?” he arched an eyebrow at her, eating another mouthful of toast.
Adele shrugged, but though Warner’s words had been jovial, she could hear something beneath them. She searched his face. “Perhaps I just think you deserve more than you already have.”
“I assure you, Duchess, I have all that I deserve.” He gave her a smile, but it did not quite touch his eyes.
Adele opened her mouth but could not think of anything to say. She realised that her hand was still on his and released it.
“Was there anything else you needed?” Warner asked, drawing his hand back to himself as he ran his fingers across it absently.
Adele shook her head. “No. I just wanted to thank you.”
“And now you have done it.” He smiled at her again; this time his eyes were the perfect blue of a summer sky.
Adele nodded. “I shall let you get back to work.”
As she moved towards the door, she thought she saw him move out of the corner of her eye, but when she turned around, he was looking at the papers on his desk.
She shut the door of the study, her heart full. How could this man, this stranger practically, support her as though it were nothing? He had taken time out of his day to get her things she needed.
More than that, he seemed to believe in her, to want her to succeed.
I have all the joy I deserve.
“There is always room for more.” Adele walked down the stairs. “And if he gets to do such lovely things for me, I should get to do something nice for him. It is only fair.”
She walked down to the kitchen and waved over the cook. “I wanted to do something nice for His Grace. Does he have any favourite meals?”
“Well, he is partial to a good roast beef, Your Grace. He quite likes simple things. But his favourite is a blackberry pie. He has loved it ever since he was a lad.” The cook’s eyes softened.
“Excellent, I trust it will not be too much trouble to arrange the ingredients for this Thursday.”
The cook shook her head. “Not at all Your Grace. I can have the menu changed so that it will pair nicely with the pie.”
“Wonderful.” She smiled at the cook. “Though if you could make sure the meals are reasonably easy to prepare, that would be much appreciated.”
“Oh, you need not worry on my account, Your Grace. A roast and a pie will be no problem for me.” The Cook smiled at her.
“I am sure they would not be.” Adele smiled back. “But I suspect the same cannot be said of me.”
She was going to do something nice for Warner, and she was going to do it herself.
Twenty
“Your Grace! Your Grace!” The cook’s voice was shrill and breathless as it rang out through the halls.
Warner frowned at the woman and at the housekeeper who was following in the cook’s footsteps. In the near decade since he had hired the cook, he could not recall seeing her more than a handful of times.
The housekeeper, Mrs. Streatley, was giving the cook a disapproving look. “My apologies Your Grace, I told Mrs. Green that you were not to be disturbed but —”
“The Duchess!” Mrs. Green interjected wringing her hands, eyes wide.
“What about her? Is she hurt?” Warner was on his feet, striding towards the two women in an instant.
“She is in the kitchens,” Mrs. Green explained.
He arched an eyebrow at her, doing his best to keep his irritation from his face as his heart settled back into a more normal rhythm. “That is not terribly unusual, Mrs. Green. I myself have been known to frequent the kitchen. After all, that is why you had to start hiding the cake.”
“But—” Mrs. Green began, but Warner interjected.
