Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

" I must say, Holbrook, your plans for expanding the sheep farming operations are most impressive," Lord Weatherby said, his eyes alight with interest. "Have you considered exporting wool to the Continent?"

Edmund felt a surge of satisfaction at the genuine curiosity in the older man's voice.

"Indeed, I have," he replied, warming to the subject. "I've been in correspondence with several merchants in France and Italy who've expressed interest in high-quality English wool."

The Earl of Blackwood, a distinguished gentleman with salt-and-pepper hair, leaned in, his expression thoughtful. "And what of the labor force, Your Grace? Surely such an expansion would require a significant increase in the number of workers?"

Edmund nodded, pleased by the astute question. "You're quite right, my lord. I've developed a plan to train local villagers in the necessary skills. It would provide employment opportunities for the community while ensuring a dedicated workforce for Holbrook."

A murmur of approval rippled through the small group of gentlemen.

Lord Ashworth, who had been listening intently, spoke up. "I must confess, Your Grace, I had my doubts when I first heard of your agricultural reforms. But I can see now that they're well-considered and forward-thinking."

Edmund felt a weight lift from his shoulders at these words. After months of skepticism and resistance from his peers, it seemed that he was finally making headway.

"Your Grace," Lord Blackwood said, his tone serious, "I'd be very interested in discussing these plans further. Perhaps you might visit my estate next week? I'm hosting a small gathering of like-minded gentlemen, and I believe your insights would be most valuable."

Edmund's heart leaped at the invitation. This was exactly the kind of opportunity he'd been hoping for. "I would be honored, my lord. Thank you for the invitation."

As the conversation continued, Edmund found himself riding a wave of euphoria. The gentlemen around him were engaged, asking intelligent questions and offering valuable suggestions.

For the first time since inheriting the dukedom, he felt truly respected as a peer and a businessman.

His eyes scanned the ballroom, seeking out Adeline. He spotted her across the room, deep in conversation with her grandmother. She had such a natural elegance about her, which Edmund couldn't help but admire.

A fresh wave of desire washed over him as he remembered their heated dance earlier in the evening. The feel of her body pressed against his, the soft gasp she'd made when he'd whispered in her ear…

Edmund shifted slightly, trying to focus on the conversation at hand.

But his mind kept drifting back to Adeline. He couldn't wait to share his success with her, to see the pride in her eyes. More than that, he longed to hold her again, to feel the warmth of her skin under his hands.

"Your Grace?" Lord Weatherby's voice broke through his reverie. "Do you have any thoughts on the matter?"

Edmund blinked, realizing he'd lost the thread of the conversation. "My apologies, gentlemen," he said smoothly. "I'm afraid the excitement of the evening has me a bit distracted. Perhaps we could revisit this topic at Lord Blackwood's gathering next week?"

The men agreed readily, and as they began to disperse, Edmund made his excuses. He had to find his bewitching wife, to tell her about this unexpected triumph. And perhaps, if he was lucky, to steal another dance with her.

As he made his way across the ballroom, his mind raced with possibilities. The future of Holbrook suddenly seemed brighter than ever. And with Adeline by his side… well, who knew what they might accomplish together?

But as he approached the spot where he'd last seen her, his steps faltered. His wife was no longer with her grandmother. Instead, she stood alone in a secluded alcove, her back rigid. And approaching her, he spotted none other than Lady Strathmore, a predatory smile on her crimson lips.

Edmund felt his euphoria evaporate, replaced by a cold dread. Whatever Joanna was up to, he knew it couldn't be good.

With a sense of grim determination, he changed course, intent on disrupting this potentially disastrous encounter.

Adeline's fingers tightened around her fan as Lady Strathmore approached, her crimson gown a stark contrast to the pastel hues favored by most of the ton . The older woman's eyes gleamed with a predatory light that set her nerves on edge.

"Lady Strathmore," Adeline said, proud of how steady her voice sounded. "Good evening."

Joanna's lips curled into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Good evening, Your Grace. I don't believe we've been properly introduced. How remiss of dear Edmund not to have done so."

Adeline's brow furrowed slightly at the woman's use of her husband's Christian name. "I'm afraid my husband has been quite busy this evening with business matters."

"Ah, yes," Joanna purred, moving closer. The scent of her heavy perfume made Adeline's nose twitch. "Edmund was always so dedicated to his responsibilities. Tell me, does he still work himself to exhaustion? I used to have to practically drag him away from his desk for a moment's rest."

Adeline felt her stomach tighten at the implication of intimacy in Joanna's words. She forced her expression to remain impassive, though she could feel a muscle jumping in her jaw.

"I'm afraid I don't quite take your meaning, Lady Strathmore."

Joanna's eyebrows rose in mock surprise. "Oh? Has Edmund not told you about our… history?" She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "We were quite the item, you know. Before the war, before his father's untimely passing. I dare say I knew him better than anyone."

Adeline took an involuntary step back, her mind reeling. Edmund had never mentioned a past relationship with Lady Strathmore. She swallowed hard, trying to wet her suddenly parched throat.

"I… I'm sure that was a long time ago. People change."

"Do they?" Joanna asked, her tone sharp. "I wouldn't be so sure. Why, just the other day, I sent Edmund the most delightful letter, reminiscing about old times. I've sent quite a few, actually. Has he not mentioned them?"

Adeline's heart was pounding so loudly that she was sure Joanna must be able to hear it. She shook her head mutely, unable to form words.

Joanna's smile widened, taking on a cruel edge. "No? How… interesting. I wonder what other secrets dear Edmund has been keeping from you."

Adeline forced herself to take a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. "I don't interfere in my husband's correspondence. I'm sure if there was anything of importance, he would have mentioned it."

"Of course," Joanna said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "I'm sure he tells you everything. After all, you two seem so… close."

The sarcasm in her voice was unmistakable. Adeline felt her cheeks burn, remembering the heated dance she and Edmund had shared earlier. Had Joanna seen them? Had others them?

"You know," Joanna continued, circling her like a cat toying with its prey, "I must admit, I was rather surprised when I heard about Edmund's marriage. You're not exactly… well, let's just say you're not the type of woman I expected him to choose."

Adeline's fingers clenched around her fan so tightly, she feared it might snap. "And what type would that be, Lady Strathmore?" she asked, unable to keep a hint of steel from her voice.

Joanna's eyes raked over her, lingering pointedly on her scarred cheek. "Oh, you know. Someone more… suitable for his position. Someone who could truly understand his world, his needs. After all, Edmund deserves a real woman, not a damaged shadow of what a lady should be."

The words hit Adeline like a physical blow. She felt as though all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. Her vision blurred, and for a moment, she feared she might faint.

"I…" she began, but her voice failed her.

She blinked rapidly, holding back tears.

Joanna's smile was triumphant now, sensing Adeline's distress. "Oh, my dear. Have I upset you? I do apologize. I sometimes forget how… sensitive some people can be."

Adeline straightened her spine, drawing on every ounce of dignity she possessed. "Not at all, Lady Strathmore. I simply find it sad that some people feel the need to belittle others to make themselves feel important."

For a moment, Joanna's mask of polite disdain slipped, revealing a flash of genuine anger. But before she could respond, a deep voice cut through the tension.

"Adeline, my dear. There you are."

Edmund appeared at Adeline's side, his hand coming to rest possessively on the small of her back. She felt some of the tension leave her body at his touch, even though her mind whirled with doubts.

"Lady Strathmore," Edmund uttered, his voice cold. "I trust you're enjoying the ball."

Joanna's smile was back in place, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, immensely. Your lovely wife and I were just getting acquainted. She's quite… charming."

Edmund's hand slid to Adeline's waist and squeezed it gently. "Indeed, she is. If you'll excuse us, I believe it is time for our second dance."

Without waiting for a response, he guided Adeline away from Joanna and towards the dance floor. As they moved, Adeline could feel the curious eyes of the ton following them.

"Are you all right?" Edmund murmured, his lips close to her ear. "What did she say to you?"

Adeline forced a smile, though she knew it didn't reach her eyes. "Nothing of consequence," she lied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Merely idle chatter."

As Edmund pulled her into his arms for the dance, Adeline tried to lose herself in the music, in the warmth of his embrace. But Joanna's words echoed in her mind, feeding the doubts that had taken root in her heart.

A damaged shadow of what a lady should be.

The words stung all the more because a part of Adeline feared they might be true.

As she moved across the dance floor in Edmund's arms, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was playacting as a duchess, as a wife.

That at any moment, the illusion would shatter, and she would be exposed for the fraud she feared she was.