Page 83 of A Duke's Unwanted Bride
“I did think it rather a stodgy name when mother and father gave it to you,” Bianca admitted, smiling at her. “It really is a lovely house.”
“Thank you.” There was more warmth in Adele’s thanks this time as she felt a heaviness shift from her heart. “If I am honest, it feels a little lonely at the moment.”
“Then we should fix that.” Bianca squeezed Adele’s hand. “What if we visited you again tomorrow? We could bring the children as well.”
“I think I would like that very much.” Adele beamed at her sisters.
She may not have Warner, but perhaps wanting him was simply greedy. She had the widows, and now, she had her sisters. It was everything she had ever dreamed of.
In time, she was sure the pain of a life without Warner would fade. The hole in her chest would be filled with the sound of her nieces and nephews, her friends and her family. That would be enough.
“Your Grace, you have — you have —” Mr. Jenkins knocked on the door, his voice shaking.
“Tell them to come back another day —– I am spending time with my sisters.” Adele waved Mr. Jenkins away.
“I fear that will not be possible, Duchess,” a voice said from behind Mr. Jenkins.
A tall man stepped into the room, accompanied by a handful of uniformed men behind him. He had greasy black hair and ill-fitting clothes. “I am arresting you for the murder of Lord Eric Rothwell, Marquess of Kidlington and heir to the Duke of Erindale.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Anne and Bianca were on their feet, standing between the man and Adele.
“Exactly what I said.” The man gave them a smile so vicious it would have made a wild dog flee. “If you two want to join her, I’m sure we can make that happen.”
Anne opened her mouth, but Adele put a hand on her arm and shook her head. “They have nothing to do with this.”
She was pleased that her voice did not betray her and that the thick fabric of her dress hid the shaking of her legs. “I will go with you.”
The man moved towards her and held out thick, iron manacles. Adele let him place them around her wrists as her mind worked furiously. When the man reached to grab her arm, she glared at him.
“That will not be necessary. I am still a duchess, and you will not touch me.” Her voice was iron, matching every bit of cold anger she had ever seen Warner use.
The man shrugged and jerked his head towards the door as he gave her a mocking bow. “Your carriage awaits, Your Grace. You are to spend the night behind bars, and your trial will be in the morning.”
“No.” Adele shook her head. “I demand an audience with the King. It is my right.”
“You little —” the man began, but Adele cut him off.
“I would think carefully about your next words. My husband is not known to tolerate slights against me.”
“Your husband cannot save you now, girl.” The man leaned close to her. “You might get your audience with the king, but it will do you little good. Who do you think he will believe? A little chit like you or a duke?”
Does he mean Warner?Panic flooded Adele, but she forced herself to look coolly back at the man. “I expect he will believe the truth.”
The man let out an unpleasant laugh that made Adele feel as though someone had covered her with oil and grime. “Oh, dear. I thought you were clever. The truth is what men of power make it, and you are no man.”
Adele’s blood turned to ice in her body. She should have realised sooner; she should have tried to find answers sooner. And now, she was going to die.
I knew I should never have indulged my heart.Warner had betrayed her, he had never believed her, and now, he had thrown her to the wolves.
Adele’s footsteps echoed as she walked through the chamber the next morning. Her back ached, and her wrists chafed. Her hair was in utter disarray, and she was still wearing the same clothes she had been in the day before.
Before her were two thrones, one empty and more ornate than the other.King George’s throne.She was not surprised to see it empty; the King was rarely seen, and a part of her hoped that would serve her well. The hope dimmed, though, as her eyes fell on the woman in the other throne.
Queen Charlotte stared down at her, her face impassive and unmoved. The last time Adele had seen her was when she was presented at court, and the woman had seemed kinder, gentler then. There was none of that gentleness today.
Adele swept into a deep curtsey though the move was made difficult by the chains on her wrists. “Your Majesty. I thank you for granting my request for an audience and to plead my case before you.”
“Why is the Duchess in chains?” Queen Charlotte’s mouth thinned. “I was under the impression that we were a civilised society.”
