arms, even though several
packages already dangled there.
As if Miss Cooper was a servant, rather than a companion. He felt affronted on her
behalf, guilty that her predicament was partly his fault, then filled with renewed
determination to make things better for her. His own sister would never treat a companion
that way—
And that was the perfect solution, he realized. Miss Cooper would not accept money
or an open-ended offer of help, but perhaps she would accept a new position, a gentle
one where she would enjoy his sister’s companionship—and he could make sure Miss Cooper
wasn’t worked too hard.
He watched as she deposited the parcels in a carriage with the help of the coachman,
then rushed to catch up to her young charge, who was entering a milliner’s shop.
Adam made sure he was right in Miss Cooper’s line of sight before she entered. He
rested his shoulder against the brick wall, arms crossed over his chest, and grinned.
She pulled up short upon seeing him, eyes wide and distressed, and he tipped his hat
to her.
Pressing her lips together, she focused on the doorway as if she meant to go through,
then whirled toward him. She passed by without speaking, stopped near the street as
if looking for someone, and spoke quietly over her shoulder.
“What are you doing here, Your Grace, following me?”
When he straightened, she immediately said, “Do not dare to act as if we’re speaking!”
He went back to lounging against the wall. “Very well, but I do assure you, Miss Cooper,
that I did not follow you. Your appearance was simply fortuitous.”
He nodded at two women who strolled by and blushed upon seeing him.
“If you’re not following me,” she continued softly, “then I suggest you turn around
and leave.”
“I cannot do that. We have unfinished business.”
“We do not, sir. I want nothing to do with your halfhearted apologies and offers of
assistance. As if I’d take money from you!” She inhaled a gasp and looked around as
she realized her voice had risen.
Adam understood her anger—hell, he was angry at himself. But he wouldn’t let that
anger keep her from seeing what was best. “I promise I do not offer money, Miss Cooper,
but a chance at a better life. I see how Miss Warburton treats you, like a lady’s
maid.”
She stiffened with each word, until he thought her shoulder blades would meet, her
back was so straight.
“My position is none of your business.”
“Except that I can offer you better. Come work for me. My sister is in her first Season,
and often feels lonely away from our country seat.” That was an exaggeration—his sister
made friends everywhere she went. “There are servants aplenty to deal with her clothing
and her hair.”
Miss Cooper blushed, proof that she’d been assigned such chores.
“I’m sure you believe you know what’s best for your sister,” Miss Cooper said impassively,
“just as you seem to believe the same about me. I assure you that you’re wrong. Good
day, Your Grace.”
She marched into the milliner’s shop without another glance at him, and he almost
followed her inside before catching himself. Such an error in judgment would not win
her over.
“Adam?”
Upon hearing the call from behind him, he realized he’d almost forgotten his sister.
W ith a cloth wrapped about the handle, Faith guided the iron and pressed it against
the skirt of Adelia’s gown. She sucked in a breath at the sudden sting as she burned
herself. Carefully, she set the iron back near the hearth instead of throwing it,
like she wanted to.
She wouldn’t have burned herself if not for the duke and his proposal. Who’d have
thought she’d find another position alluring and forbidden all at the same time?
But all day long, as Adelia prepared for a dinner party and had Faith changing her
gown and gloves and slippers over and over again, Faith had thought of nothing other
than the
Douglas E. Schoen, Melik Kaylan