A Duke’s Unwanted Bride (The Black Widows Club #1)

Chapter 1

One

“Have they no shame?” Lady Evelyn Carver, the Countess of Pinket, turned to her daughter, her lip curled in distaste.

Lady Adelaide Carver – no, she was Lady Adelaide Rothwell now – looked over her shoulder, trying to see if anyone had heard her mother’s comments.

They were standing in the garden of the Marquess of Kidlington’s estate where tables and chairs had been arranged for her wedding breakfast. She could not quite think of it as their estate, not yet anyway.

The wedding guests seemed too involved in their own conversations to have heard, but Adele forced herself to keep a smile on her face as she looked into her mother’s angry grey eyes.

“Mother, it is my wedding day —” Adele began, but her mother cut her off.

“Exactly! The groom should be staring calf eyed at his wife, not some strumpet. How can you stand to have him flirting so openly? And with a servant, no less!”

Adele winced. “Please keep your voice down; no one is supposed to know.”

“If they know, it will not be because of my voice. They are being so open with their affections a blind man could see it!” Her mother scowled.

“All he has done is look at her.” Adele tugged on an errant thread on her sky-blue dress. “He is hardly the first man to look at a pretty woman.”

“Most men have the decency to hide it, especially from their wives.” Lady Pinket arched an eyebrow, gesturing to Lord Eric Rothwell, Marquess of Kidlington with the merest flick of her pinky finger.

“And if our arrangement was different, then perhaps I would expect him to do so, but it is not. I knew about Martha when I agreed to this.” Adele did her best to keep her voice level and even, her brown eyes meeting her mother’s. “I am not some spurned woman.”

“Yes, but surely even you have more self-respect! To marry a man for his title is one thing, but this? I do not understand where I went wrong with you. Both your sisters found matches that were promising in position and even in affection.” Her mother took a sip of her drink.

“Though I will admit, their roads have not always been perfect, but they are at least happy and respected.”

“And you do not believe that I will be those things?” Adele scoffed, thinking of her brothers-in-law and their wandering ways. What good is love when it never lasts? “At least I am already aware of the promises my husband plans to break; I will suffer no heartbreak on that front.”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Just the indignity of being second choice to a servant.”

“Perhaps that is the best I can do!” Adele’s voice rose, and several people looked around at her which made her cheeks go scarlet.

“I have seen from my sisters the fickle nature of love. Why else do you think I have avoided marriage so long? Lord Rothwell’s heart may belong to another, but marrying him will give me my freedom.

Who cares if I am not his first choice?”

Adele’s voice caught on the last words, and she swallowed around a lump in her throat. Her mother’s words were still ringing in her ears. Second choice.

There was a beat of silence, filled with the gentle clink of cups and glasses as Adele tried to regain her composure. Why is this affecting me so much? She had known the truth of their arrangement, but having her mother fling it in her face, that was not something she was prepared for.

She could see the shocked expression on Lady Pinket’s face and forced herself to smile. “Let us not dwell on such things. After all, just look at the opulence around us! I do not think I have ever seen so many pineapples in my life.”

“The benefit of marrying a duke-to-be.” Her mother touched a finger to her lips. “Though I would have chosen guinea fowl not pheasant.”

Adele sighed, but she supposed that was all she could hope for. “I will make sure we serve guinea fowl when you and father visit us.”

“Speaking of your father, I should really find him. Who knows where he has wandered off to?” Her mother looked at her, mouth open as though she was about to say something, but instead she shook her head and left.

Adele debated following her, but before she could, a deep voice said from behind her, “I owe you a great debt, Lady Adelaide.”

She turned to find herself staring up into the kind eyes of Lord Rothwell. He ran a hand through his black hair, streaked with grey, and Adele noticed the creases around his eyes as he smiled down at her.

“I am not the only one who gets something out of this arrangement, Eric.” She smiled back at him.

His brow creased, and his eyes flitted away from her for an instant.

She followed his gaze and saw him looking at Martha.

Adele noticed the servant’s jaw tense, the tight smile on her face as she watched them both.

“Lord Rothwell, Lady Adelaide.” His eyes flicked back to Martha again. “I do not think using our Christian names would be kind to Martha.”

Adele felt a sharp twist in her chest. Second choice. She forced her mother’s words away and nodded. “Of course. I… Forgive me, I did not think… Though, do you think you might call me Lady Adele? I find Adelaide has never sat comfortably on my shoulders.”

“I think we could manage that, Lady Adele.” He took another sip of his drink. “I expect you cannot wait to be rid of me; it will not be long now.”

“You speak as though you are on death’s door! You are not so old as that.” Adele put a hand on her chest, her eyes widening as she shook her head. “Besides, I have no wish to be rid of you. We may not be in love, but I should hope we are friends. And I would not wish any harm on a friend.”

“I was referring to our honeymoon, Lady Adele. Not my advanced years.” His laughter rang out, and Adele looked at the ground, trying to hide her embarrassment.

“Oh.” Adele mentally kicked herself.

“Though it is reassuring to know you have no wish to be rid of me, and I too hope that we might remain friends, even as we live our separate lives.” Adele looked up in time to see the Marquess look at Martha once more. “No doubt you have many exciting plans for your new freedom.”

Adele opened her mouth, her mind filling with thoughts of Paris and dressmakers, but the words stuck around a lump in her throat. She blinked and something of her difficulty must have shown on her face because Lord Rothwell opened his mouth as though to say something.

The sound of whispering and muttering filled the space, cutting off whatever he said. Frowning, he turned away from her, and Adele tried to see over the crowd at the source of the disturbance.

All eyes were turned towards a spot near the great oak tree that sheltered the garden from view of the road.

Adele tried to peer around the guests but was not blessed with the height of her sisters.

Beside her, Lord Rothwell took a step forwards, his hand raised in greeting.

The movement caused the crowd to jostle and part, revealing what held their attention.

Adele could not tell if the gasp she heard came from her or the people around her.

A man walked into the party, emerging from behind the tree as though he had simply been waiting to make his appearance. His black hair was cut short, highlighting the sharp angles of his face, the shadows of his cheekbones, and the sharpness of his jaw.

Every movement he made was slow and unhurried, as though he were doing nothing more than taking a pleasant stroll in the grounds of his own estate. Yet Adele could see by the precision of his steps that he was used to commanding the attention of a room.

Stop staring! She could not look away, but she knew she was far from the only one transfixed by this stranger.

His midnight blue coat swayed in the wind, and there was something about it that made Adele think of danger lurking just out of sight.

She licked her lips, her heart thundering in her chest.

The stranger looked towards them. The corner of his lips twitched, and Adele wondered how it was possible that a mouth could draw such attention when the lips were pressed into little more than a line.

“Presenting… Warner… Scott. Duke… of Scarfield.” The Master of Ceremonies’ voice, gasping and short of breath, seemed to break the spell cast over Adele, and she managed to look away.

“Cousin!” Eric’s voice cut through the quiet muttering of the crowd. “Trust you to show up so late you almost miss the party!”

He laughed, and the crowd laughed with him. For a moment, Adele was sure Duke Scarfield would smile, but he did not.

“My deepest apologies. My carriage threw a wheel on the road. Apparently, it was in need of repair, and no one saw fit to do it. Suffice to say, I am looking for a new head groom.” The Duke’s voice was deep and rich, reminding Adele of honey on a hot summer’s day, yet there was a steel in it as he talked of the repairs.

I would not want to be on the receiving end of such displeasure.

Duke Scarfield drew level with them, and the scent of sandalwood washed over Adele. His clothes were perfectly tailored, highlighting his broad shoulders and well-muscled arms. What am I doing?

“Do not be too harsh on him, Cousin.” Eric waved a hand dismissing the statement before his cousin could reply. “It matters not, you are here now, and I am glad. I could hardly leave on my honeymoon without seeing you.”

“I am glad to have caught you before you left.” There was something in the Duke’s tone that made Adele suspect he was not entirely sorry to have missed the festivities, and she wondered if he had done it on purpose.

The Duke’s piercing blue eyes found Adele’s brown ones, and the thought was driven from her mind. Gooseflesh spread across her body, and she swallowed, forcing herself not to flinch under the intensity of his gaze. “Lady Adelaide.”

“You know my name?” Adele blurted, relieved that her voice was even.

The corner of the Duke’s mouth quirked upwards, and Adele’s cheeks flushed. “Of course. After all, only a bride could look as radiant as you.”