Page 5 of How Not to Marry a Duke

And then there were his large hands on her waist as he’d helped her up…

“That was chivalrous of the man, but there must be more to the story.”

Adeline let out a huff. “He said pigs cannot be pets.”

“Most would agree. What else?”

Adeline shook off her inappropriate thoughts and tried to focus on the conversation at hand. “Henry, in his overly affectionate manner, may have hurt the man.”

“Hurt him? Where?”

“When we got to our feet, Mr. Millstone flinched and cradled his forearm. I don’t think it was entirely due to the force of stopping the pig, or the fall, based on the way we…landed.” Heat rushed to her cheeks again, and she cleared her throat. “I suspect the man has a prior injury.” Another person may not have noticed, but Adeline had seen the signs. Mr. Millstone’s reaction, his flinching at the contact, then the way he’d held his arm, had alerted her.

Hasmik shook her head in disapproval. “Hmmm. Perhaps you should pay this neighbor a visit.”

Her neighbor’s face flashed in her mind. He’d left abruptly, but not before he’d expressed his ire. Was it possible his anger was exacerbated by pain?

Adeline shook her head. “I do not think he would appreciate seeing me. Best if I focus on the cottage’s repairs so I can attend those who seek my help.”

“But you are already thinking of him, aren’t you? You have a soft heart, habibti.”

Hasmik used the Arabic endearment sweetheart—that Adeline’s mother had used. And Hasmik knew her better than anyone. Adeline had difficulty turning away people in need. Her empathy superseded her stubbornness. She’d even once brewed Edwin a medicinal tea when he’d had a bad cold.

Not that Mr. Millstone was in need or would accept help.

But if her instincts were correct, then he’d had an injury and the incident with her pig had exacerbated it. Her stomach roiled. Damn.

Was he suffering as they spoke? Was she responsible for his pain? Had protecting her made his injury worse?

Still, she knew when she was unwanted. “My efforts are best served elsewhere. I need to gather enough funds for the cottage repairs.”

“You can ask Lord Foster for aid.”

Adeline laughed out loud, a harsh sound to her own ears. “Edwin wouldn’t spare me a shilling.”

Hasmik clucked her tongue. “Your father would disapprove of how your brother is treating you.”

“Our father is dead.” Her heart squeezed in her chest. A day didn’t pass that she didn’t think of him. At least her father had thought to leave her the cottage.

A cottage in disrepair.

He wouldn’t have done so if he’d known of the poor condition of the dwelling. The more she thought about it, the more she concluded that her father must have forgotten to pay a groundskeeper to keep up the cottage.

“We will make do, habibti. I’ll enlist the aid of the locals in the village to help with repairs. I noticed two young boys while shopping this afternoon.”

“How will I pay them?”

“The boys may be willing to work for a bit less than the town carpenter.”

Adeline looked about her. The leaky roof and creaky floorboards. The fencing in need of repair. The overgrown garden. Even the shutter hanging askew. “I hope so.”

Hasmik’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “If all else fails, maybe the man next door will come to your aid. Again.”

Adeline rolled her eyes at the ludicrous notion. He may be handsome, but he was maddeningly arrogant. “That will never happen.”

…

The following morning, Adeline woke to loud pounding on the front door. Heart jolting, she bolted upright in bed. Blinking, she glanced at the mantel clock.