Dating the Duke (The Aristocrat Diaries 2)

“Duly noted.” He paused. “Thank you, Addy. Truly. This was very kind of you.” Alex reached over and rested his hand on top of mine, and the warmth of his palm seeped through my skin, sending a fissure of delight over me.

Bad.

Bad, Adelaide.

This was not something we were going to entertain.

Not after those damn dreams where my hand was the most innocent thing he touched.

I cleared my throat and slid my hand from under his. “You’re welcome. Do you want to talk about what happened with your mum?”

“No, but I do wish to hear more about your visit to the café. More specifically, the cross-stitch meeting at the pub. Can you even cross-stitch?”

“No.” I sipped my tea. “I’m a very proficient sewer, but cross-stitching? Crochet? Knitting? Those things have always eluded me. I think I only agreed to attend so I didn’t appear rude.”

“Don’t worry. Maggie is the best cross-stitcher I’ve ever seen, and Millie won’t steer you wrong, either. We went to school together.”

“Oh, did you?” I wiggled my eyebrows.

“Primary school, Adelaide.” He laughed and leaned back. “Although we did have a wedding planned when we were eight, but the pretend priest didn’t show up. Turned out he was marrying her to someone else.”

“The audacity.”

“I know. Childhood weddings were quite traumatic.”

“Speak for yourself. At my playground wedding when I was seven, I was stood up and found him plaiting Annabelle Lewis’s hair behind the frog pond.”

“The worst. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m sorry you had to see Millie marry a random boy.”

“Thank you. I bet she regrets it now.”

I grinned. “Why? Because you’re a duke?”

He flicked his collar. “Well, not to be that person, but…”

I burst out laughing and leaned forwards on the counter, burying my face in my hands. “Humble, you are.”

“Settle down, Yoda. I’m merely saying it as it is.”

“Oh, shut up!” I shoved him in the arm and shook my head while I laughed.

I was going to ignore just how tense his arm was beneath my fingers, thank you very much.

Alex met my gaze, and his eyes shone with a silent laughter I wished I could hear in reality. “I will not. Now, tell me more about your trip to the café. I want to know.”

CHAPTER SEVEN – ADELAIDE

The Pheasant Arms was exactly what one would expect a small village pub to be.

Small.

At least that was how it looked from the middle of the square, where I was leaning against the formidable tower that was the town clock. It wasn’t a little country pub with a thatched roof and pretty little flowerboxes on the windows, but it was pretty enough.

It was detached from the other buildings around it and had Tudor-style cladding across both stories. The entryway was a step out from the rest of the building, and that was a rich, red brick that was the same as the chimney stack that protruded from the side of the pub.

And I had to go in there.

And meet people.

I was not good at the whole meeting people thing. I never had been, and I doubted it would ever truly be my forte.

I mean, I wasn’t trying to become a successful author because I was an extrovert.

I could do this, though. I would do this. I had to do this.

Lord knows I needed to get out of that miniature castle with all the tension between Elizabeth and Alex.

Okay.

I was going to do this.

I took a deep breath and walked towards The Pheasant Arms, then pushed open the solid oak door. It was only slightly cooler than outside, and I paused as I stepped out of the entryway and into the pub area.

A large wooden bar stretched out through the middle of the pub, and each beer pump had a local beer or cider etched onto the bit where the drink logo went. One even had a piece of paper taped over the top of it announcing one I’d never heard of.

The stools were all full bar one, and one side of the bar had numerous tables that were only half occupied. A large, stone fireplace had a bouquet of flowers in the open fire, which made sense since it was summer, and I’d barely had a chance to focus in on the people when I heard my name being called from the direction of the fireplace.

“Adelaide! Over here!”

I turned and caught sight of Maggie’s fiery hair. With her orange hair and her pink shirt, she stood out like a homing beacon, and I was very grateful for the fact she was mine right now.

She waved me over and I weaved through a couple of tables to get to the much comfier looking armchairs they were all occupying.

“I’m so glad you made it!” She wrapped me into a big hug that was rather enthusiastic. She left one arm around my shoulders and turned me to face the group.