Wicked Beauty (Brazen Bluestockings #3)

Chapter 4: Plans and Provisions

Adam dipped his quill in the inkwell, staring at the half-written letter before him. How did one inform their parents that they were marrying a woman—who, despite being Ravenscroft's cousin, was still far beneath their expectations for the future Duchess of Hoyton—because she had trapped them in a scandalous situation? He had already discarded three attempts.

Setting aside the letter to his father, he pulled a fresh sheet of paper towards him. At least writing to his estate manager about preparing Bramley Hall was straightforward enough. The small estate in Sussex had stood empty since his grandmother's death, but it would serve well enough as a residence for an unwanted wife. He would need it ready as soon as possible after the wedding. The thought of sharing his London townhouse with Alice Burton, of seeing her every day, watching those grey eyes flash with temper...

No. Better to settle her far from London where she couldn't disrupt his carefully ordered life. Where he wouldn't be tempted to—

The library door opened. He looked up, his fingers tightening around the quill as Alice herself stepped into the room as if summoned by his indecent thoughts. She froze when she saw him, her cheeks flushing a faint pink. The damn woman even blushed prettily. Had she blushed like that last night when he'd...

He pushed the memory away. "Did you need something, Miss Burton?"

"I..." She glanced at the papers spread across the desk. "I didn't expect anyone to be here."

"Clearly." He set down his quill before he accidentally snapped it. "I'm afraid if you're looking for a place to hide, you'll have to find another."

Her chin lifted at his dismissive tone. "I wasn't hiding. I merely wanted somewhere quiet to think."

"About your next scheme perhaps?" The words escaped him before he could stop them. He wasn't usually this cruel, but something about her presence made his usually impeccable control slip.

"How dare you—" She took a step forwards, then stopped and inhaled deeply as if trying to calm herself. Surprising him, she closed the door behind her before taking another hesitant step closer. "Actually, I... I was hoping to find you."

Something in her tone made him straighten. "Is that so?"

"Yes, I..." She paused and swallowed visibly. "I came to tell you—" Her gaze landed on the letter on the desk, and her eyes widened slightly as she read the heading. "Bramley Hall? Where is that?"

"Sussex." He didn't elaborate, though her frown suggested she wanted more information. Let her wonder about the place that would become her prison. Though the image of her confined to that empty house stirred something uncomfortable in his chest.

"I see." Her fingers twisted in her skirts. "So you're really sending me away? And making arrangements already?"

"Did you expect me to delay? The sooner everything is settled, the better." He picked up the quill again, hoping she would take the hint and leave. She did not. Instead, she moved closer.

"And what of my opinion on these arrangements?"

"I wasn't aware you were entitled to one." He kept his eyes on the paper before him, but the words blurred. Her scent—something light and floral—teased his senses. "You forfeited that right when you decided to trap me into marriage."

"I didn't."

Without looking at her, he raised a brow. "Were you not in my bedroom last night, wrapping your arms around me?"

"I don't recall any arm wrapping," she muttered.

"Indeed? I distinctly remember your arms around my neck. Your fingers in my hair." Damn if she hadn't felt amazing in his embrace. And he would do well not to think about it.