Page 109 of How Not to Marry a Duke

“What?” It was his turn to be utterly confused. “Why would you agree to marry that moneylender? Don’t you know that he is a blackguard?”

She turned her head to look out the window. “It doesn’t matter.”

He shook her hand until she met his eyes once more. “The hell it doesn’t. What on earth could Edwin have said to make you change your mind?”

“It’s of no consequence.”

“No consequence! If money is the issue, you never need agonize about that again. Marry me instead.”

“It’s not that simple.”

A muscle ticked by his eye. “Why, dammit?”

A flicker of anguish crossed her features. “Because if I refuse, Mary will take my place!”

Shock ran through him. A sudden furious anger pierced his chest. “Bastard. I should have expected as much from Edwin.” He rose from his knee to sit beside her once more.

Adeline choked on a sob. “He has outwitted me.”

He let out a breath, then ran fingers through his hair. “This can’t be. How much is the debt? I will pay off Slade.” Money was no object for him. The ducal coffers had grown under his care, and he was more than willing to use his gold to free Adeline.

She shook her head and bit her bottom lip. “It’s not just the money. Mr. Slade seeks to marry into the aristocracy. The daughter of an earl, even one of mixed blood such as myself, will elevate his status. That’s what he’s after.”

Warwick felt as if his cravat had tightened around his throat and cut off his air. Edwin had offered both of his sisters to satisfy Slade’s ambitions of status and social standing? Rage bubbled in his chest, and he wanted to roar with fury. Had Edwin no conscience? He knew Adeline would sacrifice herself for her sister.

“What about my proposal?”

“If I cannot marry for love, then I will wed for family.” Adeline stood.

Warwick rose. “Think about what you are saying.”

She raised her chin and faced him. “Our arrangement is over. I only hope you have managed to delay your godmother’s matchmaking tendencies until next Season.” She stepped forward to brush her lips on his cheek. “Goodbye, Your Grace. I’m to leave for London tomorrow.”

…

“The duke proposed?” Hasmik dropped her reticule on an end table and gaped at Adeline in the parlor. “What did you say?”

“I told him no.” Adeline’s voice sounded hollow, distant, to her own ears.

“Tell me why,” Hasmik demanded.

“The duke listed his reasons. He failed to set forth the most important one of all.” Hasmik had returned home and had found Adeline sitting by herself in the parlor, a glass of whisky in her hand. She remained on the sofa where Warwick had proposed to her less than a half hour ago, unable to muster the energy or will to move. After Hasmik’s inquiry, Adeline had filled her in briefly.

“You speak of love?” Hasmik sat beside her on the sofa.

“I do. He failed to mention it.” Her heart squeezed at the memory of his visit. A vulnerability had flashed across Warwick’s face when she’d rejected him, one she’d never seen before. A dominant male, a duke no less, was not accustomed to being told “no.”

Even without Edwin’s demands—which took away her free choice, she would be hard-pressed to accept Warwick’s proposal. A man who loved a woman would profess his feelings. Warwick’s reasons had not included those.

She was a sound choice for a logical man. A convenient woman who appreciated his intelligence and accepted his scientific endeavors. Someone who enjoyed his mathematical and scientific acquaintances. A woman who had her own ambitions and wouldn’t get in the way of his.

Their relationship lacked what she’d always longed for: love.

“Are you certain of your decision?” Hasmik asked.

“I will not sacrifice Mary to Mr. Slade.”

“She is a grown woman. It is her choice,” Hasmik said.