Page 18 of No Duke of Mine

“Well, um. Come along, my dear,” Algernon held out his hand to Maggie. “I’m sure you need the quiet to recover from our journey.”

Maggie turned to look at him pointedly. The longer she studied him, the more hostile her expression became. Eventually, she set her hand in his. “Yes, I think that is a very good idea. I should like some privacy before our next discussion.”

Algernon gulped. Oh dear God. This was a disaster.

He escorted her inside the inn and immediately upstairs to the chambers the innkeeper directed them to, his blood pumping wildly in his veins. Married? To Maggie? She was going to ring a peal over his head or kill him. She’d already threatened to do so.

The entire way up the stairs, Maggie’s fingertips dug into the back of his hand. He would apologize profusely once they were alone, but the damage was already done to her good opinion of him. He had entirely forgotten that he was known here.

He opened the door for her and allowed her to precede him into the first bedchamber. But before he could cross the threshold to talk, Maggie slammed the door in his face.

He sighed. Yes. That was one imposition too far.

He went to his own chamber and entered a tidy little room. He glanced at the connecting door and went there to knock.

Maggie flung it open. “What were you thinking to ask for a connecting room when you are known here?”

“Yes, I had forgotten about that,” he said, as he peeked into her room, noticing it was larger and prettier than his. He approved of that. “I am sorry.”

“He will remember meeting your new wife, too, the next time you visit,” Maggie whispered, clearly horrified.

“Possibly.”

“Algernon!” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “I cannot be your wife.”

“I know that. You know that.”

She set her hands on her hips. “Why does this not bother you more?”

“I will regret it if he gossips, but I would not change anything about this day.”

“You have become reckless. Impulsive. Presumptuous and⁠—”

Algernon quickly put his finger over her lips. “I assure you, I have no intention of bothering you as a real husband might hope to.”

He dragged his finger off her lips slowly, and heard a small gasp leave her throat.

Algernon stilled, struck by what he was doing…and wanted to do next most of all: find any excuse to kiss her again.

He was being reckless, and normally would act on his impulses around a woman he fancied. But Maggie was his dear friend, and he ought to behave with more restraint around her until invited to do otherwise. She had not voiced such an invitation yet, though there had been ample glances that suggested she was considering his appeal.

He stepped back from her. “Have dinner in your chamber if you wish to punish me for wanting you near, Maggie. I deserve it.”

He pivoted and retraced his steps to the door, deciding that Maggie might need time to cool her temper before she would forgive him.

The inn boasted a taproom, and he went there to wait at a table near a window. The ale was decent and the room warm, and he drowsed a little as the room filled with newcomers, and considered what he was doing with Maggie.

Maggie, while highly desirable, was the last woman an indebted duke should flirt with so often. She had said little about her circumstances, but he’d gleaned enough to piece together that she lived in near poverty and was disappointed with her life. Her cloak hid from most the poor condition of her gown, but the soles of her shoes were nearly worn through.

He could not be another disappointment to her.

And yet he had thought all day of kissing her again. Today, and since meeting Maggie again, he had ignored that he was traveling to London to rendezvous with a wealthy viscountess.

Lady Stephanie Kent had the connections, the pedigree, and the elegance, not to mention the money, to provide Algernon’s immediate needs in a bride.

But the idea of marrying her did not appeal. Not when there was no affection between them. He had tried to like her more last season, and failed. He hoped further time spent with the woman before he proposed might rectify that situation. And it was why he was headed to London…to see her again and find the right moment to propose.

Algernon was sipping his fifth tankard when he heard a shrill laugh that reminded him of Lady Kent. He repressed a shiver, which was not the correct reaction for a prospective groom to have at all.