Page 23 of A Duke for Adela
Yes, Adela…she was different from the others.
“Trump suit is hearts,” he said, turning over the last card.
But it wasn’t long before Adela kept ducking her head under the table to search for something. “What is the matter, Miss Swift?” he asked when she did it a third time, her gaze as perplexed as the first two instances.
“I think Lady Granville’s lapdog must be…but no, he’s there on her lap. Perhaps it is a rodent skittering around. Oh, dear. I would not think so. But something keeps brushing against my ankles, and I–”
She stopped suddenly and her cheeks caught fire. “Lord Brynmore, kindly keep your feet from straying.”
“Stop encouraging him,” Lady Felicity Rose shot back. “He would not dare flirt with you unless you were shamelessly flirting with him.”
Adela gaped at her. “Oh, yes. You have found me out. It is my goal to seduce every man in the room.”
Ambrose growled softly and set down his cards. “Miss Swift, join me on the terrace.”
He knew he sounded severe, but Adela had to realize his irritation was not with her. The others obviously mistook his expression as one of anger at her remark, for they smirked behind their cards.
Adela had not helped the situation with her sarcastic retort.
He had to warn her to always watch her words.
That sort of caution had been ingrained in him since childhood.
Obviously, Adela’s parents had taught her no such thing.
He held out his arm.
Adela placed hers in his as they made their way through the room and onto the terrace. Other guests were outside, so they were not alone. Not that Ambrose cared anymore. He almost wished he and Adela would be caught in a compromising position. His hand would then be forced. He would have to do the honorable thing and marry her.
Chore concluded.
Duke married.
Adela would suit him just fine.
“Goodness, I am so dense sometimes,” she muttered as they stood together beside the balustrade. “Three glances at my feet before I realized it was that clunch, Brynmore, tickling my ankles. Does this ever happen to you?”
“All the time. It is not only my legs they rub up against.”
“What else do they–” She gazed into his eyes and silently mouthed an ‘oh’ as she continued to stare up at him, realizing he was referring to his manly parts.
He nodded.
“Dear heaven, are they that brazen?”
“Yes, and far worse.” He had given up on house parties because of the women he would find waiting naked for him in his bed. It happened in carriages, stables, at his less elite clubs. His own home was maintained as a veritable fortress, no one entering his sanctuary unless permitted inside by his head butler who was built like an ox.
It was a ridiculous way to live.
“I am so sorry, but it is your own fault for being so handsome, wealthy, titled, and still unmarried.”
He leaned back and rested his elbows upon the balustrade, coming to know Adela would give him no quarter. “My fault? For the constant barrage of unwanted attention?”
“You enjoy much of it, especially the power you have over everyone.”
“Are you going to accuse me of being a puppet master again?”
“No, but you know your woes are minor compared to the daily struggle for survival faced by most of the population. It cannot be overlooked that you have also done much good with your power. The Huntsford Academy is an obvious labor of love. I am eager to learn how the idea for it came about. Did your love of history and science begin as a child? It did for me.”
