Page 72 of A Duke's Unwanted Bride
“I have always thought I had rather an unpleasant smile — that it was thin and hard and not really convincing.”
“You are confusing your smirk with your smile. They are not the same. Besides, I am speaking of your real smile. The one that is slightly crooked and that makes your eyes dance.”The one thatsends my stomach into roiling fervour.Adele tried to keep the emotions from her face.
“You have been watching me rather closely.” Warner’s tone was light and teasing, but his eyes had the dark, intense hunger in them.
Adele swallowed, suppressing the shiver that threatened to steal over her. “No closer than you watch me.”
The air thickened around them, Warner’s eyes holding Adele’s firmly in place. The sound of laughter drifted around them, mingling with the clink of mugs on the table and the sound of the fiddler’s music.
“Is zat… Scarfield?” A drunken voice broke through the tension.
Adele turned to see a man stumbling towards them, his hand outstretched in greeting. She heard Warner let out a low curse and then felt his warm fingers clasp over hers.
“That is Baron Velsitter.” Warner shuddered. “I do not think a more boring man has ever drawn breath. Perhaps if we ignore him, he will go away.”
“We could do that…” Adele gave him a sidelong look as she stood up. “Or we could run.”
“Run?” Warner canted his head towards her, a spark of amusement in his eyes. “A duke never runs.”
“But tonight, you are not a duke.” Adele let her hand drift across Warner’s chest.
Warner chuckled, took her hand, and pulled her towards the street. Adele could hear a shout behind them, but she did not care. A burst of delighted laughter escaped her, mingling with Warner’s.
They burst from the pub and ran towards their London house, Warner holding her hand in his and laughing like a school boy. It filled the night air, warming Adele against the wind that whipped at her hair and cheeks.
“You are a bad influence, Duchess,” Warner called.
“I try,” Adele answered breathlessly.
Adele stumbled, and Warner was there in an instant, catching her before she could fall. He was breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed and a wild delight in his eyes.
The smell of sandalwood washed over Adele. Her head spun as she steadied herself against the firm muscles of Warner’s chest. She could feel his heart thunder against her fingertips. Or was that hers?
“Are you all right?” He panted.
“Yes.” She looked up at him, still laughing as she tried to catch her breath.
His arms were wrapped tightly around her. She could see the faintest hint of stubble on his jaw and reached out to touch it without thinking.
She heard his sharp intake of breath. Her eyes found his. Her lips parted. There was less than a hairs breadth between them. His fingers brushed against her cheek as he swept a lock of hair from her face.
“Warner,” Adele breathed.
The warmth of him was at odds with the cold in the air, but she scarcely noticed. She closed her eyes, her heavy breathing mingled with his. Her heart thundered wildly in her chest.
Something clattered, and Warner jerked away from her, pulling Adele behind him as he did. Her head spun.
“Your Grace?” Adele recognised the voice.
All the laughter and giddy anticipation dissolved. Instead, anger filled Adele, blood thundering in her ears as she moved away from Warner. “What are you doing here, Mrs. Patmore?”
“I wished to speak to you, Duchess Scarfield.” Mrs. Patmore swallowed, wringing her hands.
“And what makes you think I have any wish to hear anything you have to say?” Adele’s voice was so cool it surprised her.Were youthe one who made up that story about me? Is it because you thought I had hurt Martha?
“Please, Your Grace.” Mrs. Patmore’s eyes darted from left to right like a cornered animal. “I am sorry! Sorry for everything. We were wrong to treat you the way we did.”
“It is a little late for apologies, Mrs. Patmore. I told you that I did not want to speak to you again.” Adele moved past the woman, walking towards the house. “That has not changed.”
