The Heart of a Duke (45 page)

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Authors: Samantha Grace

Tags: #sweet, #rogue, #gypsy, #friends to lovers, #Nobility, #romance historical romance, #fortuneteller, #friendship among women

BOOK: The Heart of a Duke
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He furrowed his brow. What could she possibly
be on about?

Alison pursed her lips. “You want a woman who
is brilliant, or at least competently academic. I’m afraid I don’t
meet the qualification.”

He smiled. She must be teasing him. Her mouth
wasn’t curved and her eyes weren’t shining. She wasn’t teasing.
“Why would you believe yourself anything but my intellectual
equal?”

She pressed her fingers to her forehead.
“Because I can’t seem to help myself. I don’t want to be a silly
girl, but I am.”


Are what? Help yourself
what?”


I believe in magic. I tried to
stop myself, but I can’t help it. I have since I was a girl. I know
it’s ridiculous, because the world is made of tangible things, but
when my father said I must marry, I wore the pendant,” she said. “A
gypsy sold my friends and I a pendant when we were girls and said
it would lead to the heart of a duke. I believed it
would.”

His face became hard a stone. “You wanted to
marry the Duke of Langley?”

Chapter Ten

Alison pressed her other hand to her forehead
too. This was all wrong.


No. You don’t understand.” She
held up a hand, moving away and trusting distance to protect her
heart. “I never wanted to marry the Duke of Langley, but Papa had
said I must choose a husband. I have wished for you to show me some
sign of interest for years, but I wasn’t certain it would ever
happen. Even when I began to think my feelings were mutual, you
said you wanted to distinguish yourself first. I didn’t know what
else to do.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I understand.
I can hardly hold you responsible for a choice you made before I
arrived.”


I put on the necklace because I
was faced with a choice I couldn’t stand to make, and I wanted that
choice taken from me because I had no power to choose what I
wanted. You see. That is why I had to tell you. I believed the
pendant would help me, and I don’t want you to marry me and be
disappointed because I’m such a silly thing.”

“Well, Newton’s apple.” Jonathan
grinned as he used her favorite exclamation. “You are silly, if you
believe that’s ridiculous. Science
is
magic. The first man who thought
to rub two sticks together to create fire was making magic, and the
force that brought us together, whether scientific or not, was
and
is
magic.”


Do you mean it?”


The magic of science is what I
love most about it.”

She flew into his arms and kissed his cheeks
and nose.

He grinned, pulling back. “Does this mean you
will marry me?”


Yes.” She laughed. “I would never
have chosen another.”


Neither would I.”

His eyes suddenly burned, and her skin warmed
in response. In fact, parts of her body tingled and tightened that
she would never have expected to react to his closeness. It was
science and magic all rolled into one—some chemical reaction
delivered by a fat baby with a bow and magic arrow. Jonathan leaned
in, his deep brown eyes on her lips. For the first time ever her
nervous energy faded.

This time, when his lips pressed hers, soft
and full, the world finally felt right. She pressed a hand to his
stubble-covered cheek and let her eyes flutter closed. The touch of
his mouth was feather light, as if he were reveling in the touch of
her lips to his. She took in a deep breath and his scent filled
her, surrounded her like the brightest clouds and the best
daydreams. She let it out in a tiny whimper.

Then everything changed. His arms slid over
her shoulders and down her back. As he drew her in, he deepened the
kiss, taking her lower lip gently between his. Her breathing came
faster, and the world charged with electricity. Propriety,
nervousness, her family beyond the trees, everything faded behind
the passion of his embrace, the wild abandon of his tongue as it
found its way back into her mouth to touch her own.

After a moment of this passionate frenzy, he
slowed the kiss, pulling back. He pressed his forehead to hers for
a moment, as if he couldn’t bear to release her. The thought sent a
thrill through her. He gazed into her eyes, his forehead still
against hers. “We must be careful. Your family is waiting just
beyond the trees.”

Nervous, loud laughter bubbled up in her
throat.

He smiled, wider and wider, then he laughed, a
rich, throaty laugh. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to
feel worthy of you?”

She gazed deep into those eyes, so full of
humor and intelligence. “And you always have been.”

His shoulders released forward, as if he’d
held some tension that had finally released. “Come, my bride. Let’s
inform your family of your answer. The sooner we tell them, the
sooner we can wed and finish that kiss.”

When they reached the group, Mama, Papa,
Vallie, and Charlotte stood together.


Papa, Mama,” Alison said as she
approached. “I’ve chosen my husband.”

She held her breath, braced to see if her
father would rail about the duke, but he only smiled a genuine
smile. “Am I to understand that you’ve chosen Mr.
Foster?”

She smoothed a hand over her skirts to hide
her nervous trembling. “Yes, Papa. I love him and he loves
me.”

The women smiled, each clutching her hands to
her bosom in an expression of romantic rapture that filled Alison’s
heart as well.


A fine choice. I’m so grateful
you two chose as you did. Particularly you, my darling
daughter.”

Jonathan stepped to her side.
“Why?”


Because I do so enjoy my
discussions with you, Mr. Foster. But also because the duke didn’t
actually offer for you. He spoke to me, moments before I came to
you and informed me he would be leaving early. When I asked why, he
said because he’d intended to offer for you and his mother approved
of the match, but you were obviously in love with
Foster.”

Alison had entirely forgotten the duke, though
it seemed it was for the best. She frowned. “You tricked us,
then?”


From the very start.” Charlotte
swept a hand toward them. “We’ve all seen how perfect you two would
be for each other.”

Mama stepped forward, her hands clasped in her
usual demure pose. “For years now I’ve invited him to our home, and
your father and I have watched your eyes light up. It only took a
little cajoling on our parts to make you see it.”


Thank you,” Jonathan said. “I
know I should be angry at being tricked, but you all helped me to
see that I didn’t need to wait for happiness. Whatever comes in the
future, we shall have each other.”


I agree. I cannot begrudge the
method, since the outcome is precisely what I desired.” Alison
smiled, not caring if her mouth was open too far or curved too
wide, or if she was moving too fast or frantic in front of the
group. None of that mattered anymore. She had her scientist, her
magician . . . her happy ending.

About Robin
Delany

Robin Delany lives in a beautiful
spot in the Northern California wine country with her husband and
two sweet little ones. Unfortunately, the aforementioned little
ones keep her from exploring said wine country. More's the pity.
She loves to spend time with her family, read, and travel. Whenever
she can find a moment, she sneaks off with her muse and writes
historical romances filled with sinfully sexy adventure and a dash
of humor. Learn more at
RobinDelany.com
and then join
the conversation on
Twitter
or
Facebook
.

 

Aileen Fish

Chapter One

October, 1810

Hampshire, England

 

Andrew Vickers, the 5th Duke of Langley, stood
beneath a yellowing oak tree observing his guests with a yawn. The
titled young men and ladies Mother had invited scampered about with
a select few members of the gentry, chasing after their wooden pall
mall balls on the vast lawn at his southernmost estate, Hawking
Hall. Exceedingly bored, Langley wished he were in Town. There was
no one in London he really cared to see, but at least there he
could retire to his chamber when he wished, or bury himself in a
book and speak to no one for hours on end.

Standing beside him his friend, William
Butler, Viscount Pembrook, absently swung a mallet in the air,
appearing no more interested in the game than Langley
was.

Langley made no attempt to disguise another
yawn. He could use a nap before the evening activities, if he was
to be at his best. It was important he be sharp witted so he could
finally put this matter of marriage behind him. “I’m beginning to
wish I had simply let Mother decide who was the most qualified
young lady on her list and I had agreed to marry that
one.”


Hardly the most romantic way to
proceed.”


Having our fathers arrange the
match between myself and Lady Eleanore wasn’t romantic either.
Everything would have been settled if she hadn’t eloped with my
cousin.”

Pembrook lifted his mallet behind his
shoulders and stretched. “You aren’t suddenly going to declare
yourself heartbroken over her at this late date, are
you?”


Of course not. I’ve seen the
couple since they returned from Scotland and they seem genuinely
happy. I wish them the best. But it was such a damned nuisance
finding another barrister, since I could no longer trust Farrish to
have my best interests in mind. Not to mention what I’m going
through trying to find a replacement for Lady Eleanore.”

Shaking his head, Pembrook said, “You mean,
trying to find a wife, not to replace Lady Eleanore. You can’t tell
a girl she’s merely a replacement for something you can’t
have.”


Yes, of course, what else would I
mean? I’m in a position I never expected. I’m turning thirty in a
few weeks and had planned to be married by now. Until Lady Eleanore
eloped, I’d never considered another woman for my wife. But, blast
it. I’m running out of time.”


What difference does it make if
you marry at thirty, or thirty one? You’ve waited all this
time…”

Langley shoved at the locks of hair drooping
over his brow and pursed his lips. Brooky was a good friend, one of
his closest now that his barrister cousin was married to Langley’s
former intended. His ties to Brooky, however, didn’t go back as far
as his school days, when his father had died. His friend’s
questions stirred up painful memories that he usually kept deeply
buried. “My father died rather young. He was forty-eight. I was
sixteen when he left us. I feel like I barely knew him.”

He glanced at the young people playing on his
lawn. “I knew the man who loved me and my mother, but not the one
who made decisions affecting the lives of so many people living off
the successful running of our estates. I would like to have been
eased into the role I play. The Duke of Langley. The very act of
assuming the title means you cannot ask advice of the former
duke.”

Brooky cleared his throat. “That’s very true.
I suppose I have it lucky to be part of the running of the earldom
before my father turns up his heels.”


Yes, well…I don’t plan to die
young, but I would like to be here for my sons.”

One of his guests cheered as his ball
connected with that of another player. While Langley was pleased
they were enjoying themselves, he had no desire to join them.
Mother claimed he was too serious, but the frivolity of scampering
about after balls was something he’d outgrown around the time his
father died. “I hate this process of looking for a bride. Every
young lady I’ve considered these past few months has had someone
else in mind. I thought all young ladies aspired to marry a
duke.”

His friend chuckled. “Perhaps if you slink up
behind the next one and catch her unaware, she can’t escape like
the others have.”

Langley frowned. “I don’t appreciate the humor
in that. I’ve discovered I have a knack for choosing the next noble
daughter to announce her betrothal to some other man.” The thought
left a bitter taste in his mouth.

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