Page 46 of Wedded to the Beastly Duke
A wave of feminine laughter greeted him, along with the unmistakable sound of a male guffaw. Adam froze, all the warmth draining from his body. The laughter was unlike any he had heard in his life.
“That’s what I wanted to tell you, Your Grace,” Keaton said apologetically, wringing his hands. “A gentleman arrived earlier today, traveled down from Glasgow. He said he was a friend of yours.”
“A friend of mine,” Adam repeated. “And what, pray, is this friend’s name?”
“He said his name was Rickard Hansen.”
Adam barely registered the surname as he absorbed the fact that this Rickard, whoever he was, had intruded on his wife under false pretenses. His fury was sudden and burning, and he barely heard the butler attempt to announce him as he stalked into the room.
The first thing he saw was Emmeline’s face, the relief and affection that swept across it before she registered his anger. Defiance leaped into her eyes, and he relished it, the way she never cowed before him.
The same could not be said for the gentleman she had been entertaining. He was a handsome man, Adam could say that, and he had a certain suave charm that instantly infuriated Adam.
“So,” he growled, eyes locked on the strange gentleman, who had turned a slightly gray color. “I gather you were not expecting me home so soon?”
Emmeline rose from her chair, hurrying across to him and taking his arm. “Adam,” she said in a low, warning voice. “Don’t cause a scene.”
He glanced down at her slim hand and the slight flush on her cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to scoop her into his arms and kiss her until she forgot her name, but that would, unfortunately, not be happening.
“Well?” he demanded, knowing his voice was harsh but unable to help himself. “What is happening?”
The man rose to his feet and executed a deep bow. “Your Grace. I am Rickard?—”
“I was informed as to who you say you are. But the question remains. What are you doing in my house, with my wife?”
“Adam,” Emmeline hissed. “He’s your friend.”
Adam looked down at her face, saw she believed what she said. Or, at least, she had begun to believe it. Now, cracks were forming in her conviction.
Good.
“I have never seen this man before in my life,” he said dismissively.
“Wait!” Rickard—if that was his real name—took a step forward. “You’re right that I’m not your friend. I was acquainted with your late brother.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And what was his name?”
Rickard only hesitated for a fraction of a second. “William, Sir.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“I would hardly come to your house and lie to your face.” Even as he said it, he wiped his forehead with his cuff. “Forgive my intrusion. I came to speak with you and become better acquainted. Your brother said I was free to visit whenever I was in the country.”
“And why are you in the country?”
“When I heard of your brother’s death, I was sadly tied up in Scotland, but now I am on leave to travel, I wanted to come and pay my respect.”
“You cannot be angry with him for that,” Emmeline said, tugging at Adam’s arm. “And if you object to him staying, then you may take that up with me.”
Was it possible that this man could have turned her head? Adam had never had much cause to be jealous before, but there was no mistaking the emotion that spiraled through his body now.
He wanted this Rickard gone.
But Emmeline was giving him a reproachful look, and he knew that this would become yet another rift between them if he kicked Rickard out immediately.
