Page 6 of How Not to Marry a Duke

Six o’clock in the morning.

Who in God’s name could it be?

For a single flustered moment, she wondered if it was her neighbor, the handsome Mr. Millstone. His visit yesterday was still fresh in her mind, thanks to an unsettling dream where he touched her waist for no protective reason at all. His nearness made her senses spin, and she was entirely caught up in her own emotions until she abruptly woke.

He wouldn’t visit again soon, though, would he? If so, he had no reason to complain. Romulus’s condition had improved after the third dose of the tonic she’d administered to ease his nausea. And with his relief his barking had ceased.

So who could it be? Other than the pounding, the cottage was eerily quiet. As was her habit, Hasmik had already risen and left for the village for fresh cream and eggs.

Adeline threw off the covers and slipped out of bed. She didn’t bother with a night rail. She slept in loose-fitting white linen Arabic pants and a tunic that fell to her hips. She dressed as a proper English lady in the day, but behind closed doors, she preferred her mother’s traditional, comfortable garb.

She padded barefoot through the cottage and opened the door.

She wished she hadn’t.

Edwin stood on her front step. His gaze raked over her from head to toe, and a look of disapproval, one that she was accustomed to, flashed in his eyes. She swallowed hard as old fears and uncertainties arose, and her fingers tensed on the door handle. She was conscious of her unpinned dark hair in disarray on her shoulders.

“Hello, Adeline.” Her name rasped across her half brother’s lips like a curse.

“Edwin.” She chose not to address him using his newly minted title. Her beloved father had held that title, and to address Edwin with it seemed like an abomination.

She wasn’t ready. She’d never be ready.

“I realize we are in the country, but must you dress like a heathen?”

Her practiced smile disguised her anger. “I was sleeping. And need I remind you that you are the one knocking on my door at this very early hour. Why are you here?”

Edwin pushed the door fully open and stepped inside the cottage. “I wasn’t aware the country had respectable calling hours. To answer your question, I am here on a matter of family urgency.”

Adeline’s pulse leaped as she shut the door. “Is Mary unwell?”

Mary was Adeline’s beloved half sister, almost a year older than her, but Adeline had always thought of Mary as a twin.

Mary was the one person both Edwin and Adeline cared for. Mary had a sweet disposition and was terribly shy, night from day compared to Edwin. She had been all nerves in anticipation of the upcoming Season, whereas Adeline had chosen to travel to the country to work as a healer.

Mary had her own secret talent. She was a prolific writer and had published short stories under a pseudonym. For almost a year, Mary had been working on a full-length novel. Edwin had no idea. Adeline had always marveled at Edwin’s ignorance of Mary’s publishing endeavors, considering Mary would disappear for hours in her room to write.

“Mary is fine,” Edwin said. “This does not concern her.”

A knot in Adeline’s stomach eased. “Then what matter of family urgency?”

His lips curled in a crocodile smile. “It’s simple, dear sister. I’ve arranged for you to marry.”

Chapter Two

Adeline gaped. “Pardon?”

“You are to marry a man by the name of Mr. Slade,” Edwin said, his tone light, as if he had announced she was to attend a frivolous garden party hosted by one of the ladies of the ton.

Of all the asinine things she’d expected her half brother to say, that he had arranged her marriage to a stranger was not one of them.

“You arrive here unannounced to tell me I’m to marry? Have you lost your mind?” In contrast to his offhand delivery, her voice was high-pitched and laced with irritation.

“I have little choice. Believe me when I say that I would be anywhere else if I were able.” Edwin walked past her and into the small parlor, his eyes darting to the sparse furnishings, consisting of a couch with sagging cushions, an end table in need of sanding and refinishing, and peeling wall coverings. Hasmik had picked a bouquet of bright yellow buttercups and placed them in a porcelain vase on the end table to add a splash of color to the drab room.

Edwin took no notice. His lips twitched in distaste as he picked up a pillow, tossed it aside, and sat on a chair with fading upholstery. She wanted to scream that he wasn’t welcome and that he shouldn’t make himself comfortable.

She also wanted an explanation.