Page 38 of How Not to Marry a Duke

“I will. But I shall have to add a request. Knowing Lady Heywood, she will be happy to have you and Hasmik reside with her. Her Piccadilly home has many rooms.”

“I couldn’t possibly impose upon your godmother.”

“Once you meet the lady, you will understand. She will be more than thrilled that I’ve finally lost my heart to a lady.”

…

True to his word, Warwick showed up to escort Adeline to the village fair, followed by Lady Furlong’s country dance. By the time they arrived in the heart of Chilham, the village was abuzz with activity. A quaint village green was surrounded by an old stone church, a tavern, and rows of small cottages with thatched straw roofs. Torches blazed and illuminated vendors who had set up temporary stalls selling a wide array of goods including children’s toys, clothing, candles, jewelry, farming tools, and furniture. Others offered mouthwatering grilled meat on skewers, mincemeat pies, and pastries. Fairgoers could purchase spiced wine and ale for a coin. A group of children giggled in delight at a juggler who managed to toss eight small apples in the air and catch each of them. Others on the green laughed and danced to festive music, while those interested in purchasing goods wandered from vendor to vendor, eyeing wares and sampling food. A torch popped and the aroma of grilled meat and burning candles scented the air.

Hasmik had accompanied Warwick and Adeline. “I’ll leave you two to attend Lady Furlong’s dance. There is much for me to see and buy.” She waved as she departed, leaving them alone.

Adeline glanced up at Warwick. It was their first public outing and a test of sorts. Together, they entered the village green and soon, they were surrounded by people.

“Come. I see something I want to buy,” Warwick said.

She shook her head. “We should go to Lady Furlong’s dance. We don’t want to be late.”

He looked back at her. “I thought fashionably late was desirable.”

How could she explain? Fashionably late in London, yes. The country was different. She didn’t know what to expect here. The villagers were enjoying all the fair had to offer. The upper class of Chilman was most likely different.

He took her hand. “We have time.”

She had no choice but to follow. His hand was warm and engulfed hers. After passing three stalls, Warwick stopped at the fourth one. An old husband and wife manned the stall, which offered scarves, lady’s fans, frilly garters, gloves, and other articles of clothing. Warwick pointed to a blue apron embroidered with vines on the border. When the man took it off a hook and handed it to Warwick, he turned to Adeline. “I believe you will make good use of this.”

“An apron? It’s pretty, but I’m a horrid cook.”

“I didn’t mean it for the kitchen. At least, not in that respect. When you stitched up that man’s thigh, you had blood on your apron. You need another. I chose this one because of the vines. It reminds me of your herbs.”

A flush heated her cheeks, and she looked up at him in surprise. He wanted to buy her an apron for healing patients? It was the first time anyone had purchased her a gift for her work. He threw her off balance, thoughtful one moment, agonizingly argumentative the next. “Thank you.” Her voice sounded soft to her own ears.

He flashed a grin. “Now let’s head to Lady Furlong’s event, shall we?”

She rested her hand on his uninjured arm, aware of the strength beneath his sleeve and the coiled power of the tall man beside her. “You should know that I had my butler reveal my true identity in the village,” he said.

“Why?”

“To start our story, I had to come out of hiding.”

She gave him a sideways look. He was right. She was surprised and appreciative that he had the foresight to “come out of hiding” as he’d phrased it. It would make their presence at the dance easier as well as much more interesting. “I think it was a good idea.”

Lady Furlong’s home was a short walk from the village green. It was a stately country home with white stone pillars and a small circular drive that could hold one carriage at a time. Many of the genteel country neighbors had walked from the fair. Torches illuminated a large wooden front door. Music sounded from the ballroom, not the same country music that played in the village green, but from an orchestra.

The formalities were relaxed here, and thankfully, a majordomo was not required to announce the guests as they arrived. Adeline and the Duke of Warwick were careful not to walk in together, but separately. They were not yet engaged. Rather, this was the perfect opportunity for them to practice a courtship—to pretend to be enamored of each other and have their first public dance. If rumors of their affection reached London before they’d had a chance to arrive, then all the better.

A footman led them to their hostess, Lady Furlong. A wealthy middle-aged widow two-times-over in her forties, she’d grown richer after each marriage and could carry out her eccentricities. She was dressed in an extravagant gown of yellow with billowing skirts and an overlay of gold tissue. A low bodice embroidered with Brussel’s lace did nothing to hide her large breasts. Her cheeks and lips were rouged, and a towering wig of blond hair contained a small gilded birdcage and peacock feathers.

Lady Furlong fluttered her fan. “Lady Adeline Cameron. What a wonderful surprise to meet your acquaintance. Is your brother accompanying you?”

Adeline lowered her gaze from the headdress to the lady’s necklace. A chain of diamonds with an emerald the size of a walnut rested between her ample cleavage. “No, my lady. He is in London.”

“’Tis a shame. My youngest niece is visiting. Perhaps she will meet him in Town.”

Adeline smiled smoothly. “I’m sure.” The best thing for the niece would be to avoid Edwin. He wouldn’t treat any wife with the respect she deserved.

Their hostess’s eyes lit with excitement as she traveled to the next guest in line. She pressed a beringed hand to her chest. “The Duke of Warwick! I daresay, I was surprised to learn of Your Grace’s presence in Chilham, and I am most honored to have a duke attend my country gathering.”

“The honor is mine.” Warwick bowed over her hand.