Page 49 of How Not to Marry a Duke

He raised a hand. “Stop! I do not wish to hear more.”

She planted her hands on her hips and studied him. “Is this an elaborate ruse, Daniel?”

He stiffened. “Whatever do you mean?”

“It is no secret that I have wanted you to marry. God only knows, I’ve listed all the eligible debutantes in my recent letters to you. Not once have you expressed an interest in any of them. Then you travel to the country and come home with a lady three weeks later. Why wouldn’t I be suspicious?”

Damnation, she was too perceptive. “I would hope you would trust me.” His voice was hollow.

“Hmm. If you were any other man, I wouldn’t bat an eyelash. But I know you, Daniel. Better than most.” She came forward to wag a finger at him. “I know how smart you are. Others may underestimate your intelligence. God only knows, your own mother and father didn’t understand your keen mind, but I do.”

“I have never outright lied to you, godmother.”

“True. You were never one to be manipulative, but then again, you were never pressed with your responsibilities to ensure the progression of the ducal line.”

He’d never shirked his ducal responsibilities, but he had yet to take a wife and produce an heir. That responsibility was like a festering thorn in his side. It wasn’t as if he’d had a stellar example growing up. His mother and father had a cold, loveless marriage. They’d never shared the same bedchamber, let alone the same wing in the massive mansion. He’d often wondered if they’d slept together only once to conceive him. His mother had also been cold toward him, and as a child he’d believed she never truly loved him. How could a mother not love her son? Her lack of affection had left him with a bitter taste for marriage.

Warwick knew he couldn’t put off choosing a duchess forever. He sought only to delay the inevitable until he could complete more of his work.

Beneath the steely stare of his godmother, Warwick’s resolve grew. If his plan with Adeline was to work, his godmother had to be convinced.

“I assure you that Lady Adeline and I share true feelings for each other.” At least, that was not a lie. He did admire Adeline’s healing ability and compassion to help others. His own recovery was proof of her skill.

Lady Heywood’s expression shifted from suspicion to satisfaction. “I’m pleased.”

“I hope you will sponsor Adeline for the remainder of the Season.”

His godmother clutched her hands to her chest. “Now that I know you care for the lady, I am looking forward to it. I never had my own children, and I will treat Lady Adeline as my own. As for the upcoming Kirkland ball, leave the rest to me. I know just what to do to inspire romance.”

Inwardly, Warwick caught his breath. Good grief. What romantic-inspiring plans did she have spinning in her sharp mind? Her words did more to concern than comfort him.

…

Warwick raised his fists and circled his opponent in the boxing ring, staked off at its four corners.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come today.” Lord Drake’s right fist jabbed out and Warwick ducked, then shifted.

“What made you think I wouldn’t show?”

Sweat beaded on Warwick’s brow and chest. Both fighters were bare-chested and wore gloves. Their footwork was nimble, as they shifted back and forth, their shoes scraping the hardwood floor.

“You’ve been in Town only two days.”

“A body must exercise to keep the mind sharp.” Warwick believed in this truth. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have spared the time away from his workshop.

“You’re already the sharpest mind I know,” Drake said.

“Are you flattering me to distract me?”

“Flattery isn’t needed to best you in the ring. Besides, you are already distracted.”

“How so?”

“The lovely Lady Adeline Cameron.”

“Don’t tell me you read the gossip rags?”

“My wife does.”