Page 35 of A Duke's Unwanted Bride
“None of your business. My uncle is grieving and does not need to be harangued.” His fist clenched as he nodded his head at her. “I know what you are like, and he is not in the state to meet your… fervour.”
Lady Adele poked him in the chest. “Just because you and I cannot seem to go more than three minutes without quibbling does not mean that I am like this with everyone else.”
“I remember, you save this just for me. And how fortunate I am.” He had caught her hand in his without thinking and hastily dropped it as he took a step away from her. “But I cannot allow you to see my uncle.”
“Your protectiveness would be endearing if it did not make you more stubborn than an ox.” He was not sure if he was imagining it, but he could have sworn he heard an affectionate note in her words.It is in your imagination.
“It seems you are taking several leaves out of my book where compliments are concerned. They say that imitation is the highest form of flattery after all.” he teased, running a hand through his hair.
She laughed softly and rolled her eyes. “I doubt that you are so desperate for flattery as that Your Grace. I have heard at least six women today wax lyrical over your dashing eyes and fine… form.”
“And you did not see fit to join them?”
“I had better things to do.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and fixed him with a determined stare, her jaw set. “Now are you going to let me speak to your uncle or not?”
“No.”
She threw her hands up in frustration. “Have you ever considered that your efforts to protect him are in fact doing the opposite?”
“How?” Warner’s brow creased and he took a step towards her.What game is she playing?
She shot him a withering look. “What if it was not Eric who was the target of the poison? It would have been far too easy to mix up the drinks. Or perhaps the killer was trying to send your uncle a message.”
“And what better way to do that than to kill his heir.” Warner’s eyes widened as he rubbed his jaw. “That is not a thought that should be ignored.”
“You could just say that I am right; it is far less words.”
“Your idea has merit, but that does not mean it is correct.” He stiffened.
“I thought you said you wished to practice compliments? That was a rather poor attempt.” Her tone was teasing, and it made his heart stumble in his chest.
“And you said you did not wish to help me.” He replied silkily, canting his head towards her.
“No, I said it would be the height of vanity to accept. That did not mean that I had no wish to help you.” She grinned at him. “Besides, I want to hear you say that I am right.”
“I — what was that?” He whipped his head towards the door.
“Really the lengths you will g—” Lady Adele began but Warner cut her off. “Shhh. Listen.”
The sound of footsteps rang out. “Blast! It sounds like they are getting closer.”
Lady Adele’s eyes widened, and she glanced from him to the door. “If they find us in here, like this… Goodness only knows what they will think.”
“They will not find us. Come with me.” He tugged her towards the thick curtains by the window.
Her soft skin was warm against his hands as drew the curtain around them, pressing them both as flat against the wall as it was possible to be. The smell of roses filled his senses, and he could not tell if the wild heartbeat he felt was his or hers.
Her breath tickled his neck as he looked down to check their feet were hidden from view. The movement made him all too aware of her body pressed against his. His mouth was suddenly dry.
“Stay still,” he whispered.
“You hardly need to tell me that.” Her voice was so quiet he had to strain to hear it over the pounding of his heart and the roaring in his ears.
The feel of her breath against his skin set every hair on his body on end. Gooseflesh covered him, and he swallowed.
The footsteps had stopped. Warner forced himself to take deep but quiet breaths, trying to ignore the feeling of Lady Adele’s heart against him.
He heard muffled voices outside of the study and recognised one of the voices as Mr. Harris, one of the Bow Street Runners.
