Page 4 of A Duke for Adela
She cleared her throat.
He followed the direction of her gaze and realized he had yet to release her hand.
He did so now.
She was still smiling as she backed out of his office, smacking her shoulder against the door jamb on her way out. She made it no more than two steps into his antechamber before tripping over the carpet because she still had her eyes on him and not on where she was walking. Fortunately, it was just a small misstep and she recovered quickly.
The girl was not exaggerating when she said she was clumsy. “A moment, Miss Swift.”
He reached her side and offered his arm. “Let me walk you out of the building. Wouldn’t want you to fall atop any of our patrons.”
She groaned. “Now you think I am an utter peahen.”
“No, Miss Swift. To tell you the truth, I find you surprisingly charming.”
“You do?” She eyed him warily, as though waiting for him to spring his cruel jest. His heart gave a little tug, for this girl had enthusiasm and intelligence along with decent good looks, and yet no one seemed to view her as a prize.
He would have to do something about that.
Now that the Huntsford Academy was built and open to the public, he was looking for a new endeavor to occupy his attention.
Why could it not be Miss Adela Swift?
CHAPTER 2
ADELA’S HEART WASpounding as the Duke of Huntsford led her out of the Huntsford Academy’s exhibition hall onto the busy London street. The day was crisp, for the breeze off the Thames brought cool air swirling around her. But the sky above was a deep and vivid blue typical of the skies in May. Soft, white clouds billowed harmlessly overhead, passing quickly under the force of the wind.
“How did you get here, Miss Swift?” the duke asked, the waves of his dark hair falling back into perfect place after each wind gust, while hers would not stay put even if she glued her tresses to her head.
“I walked, and now I shall walk back.” The irritating strands whipped her cheeks, so she used both hands to brush them off her face, while the duke– ugh!– remained before her in utter perfection.
“To Chipping Way?” He frowned, his silvery eyes reflecting his concern.
Well, he did look like the protective sort, as many of these former soldiers were. She could often tell if a man had served in the military just by these little courtesies. It went against his code of honor to leave an unescorted woman to fend for herself, especially one as incompetent as he believed her to be.
“I shall have my carriage brought around and deliver you home myself.” He nodded to one of the footmen standing at the entrance of his exhibition hall, obviously a signal for the man to summon his conveyance.
“You?” The wind was still blowing her hair in her face, making an utter mess of her coiffure. That is, if one could call it a coiffure. Before leaving home this morning she had haphazardly piled her hair atop her head and stuck as many pins as could be found in her bureau drawer around that pile to hold it in place as best as could be managed. “Surely, you have more important things to do than ensure my safe return to Lady Dayne’s home.”
“Yes, I do.” He gave no further explanation, which was quite irritating to Adela because she did not understand why this duke was determined to stick to her side if he had other pressing matters requiring his attention.
He did not like her.
Oh, he probably did not trust her, either.
Was he keeping close to her because he was determined to find out if she was a liar?
Of all the gall!
She was about to berate him when his carriage came around the corner and the driver drew it to a halt in front of them. “Dear heaven,” she muttered, having never seen such a magnificent conveyance in her entire life. It was brightly polished and shining black, obviously made with every travel comfort in mind.
His ducal crest was emblazoned on the door, a fierce, horned stag with crossed swords in front of it and the background was a field of red. Blood red, to be precise. “Impressive, isn’t it?” the duke remarked, no doubt expecting her to fawn over it and him.
He quirked an eyebrow in expectation of her compliment.
She shrugged and put her hand to her mouth in an obviously faked yawn. “It appears adequate.”
He chuckled. “Just adequate?”
