The Heart of a Duke (55 page)

Pinsley laughed. “I don’t recommend you let my
daughter hear you say that. She is forever lost in her romances and
believes her life should be just like them.”

The music ended, and Langley excused himself
to join his fiancée. She wore a pale gown embroidered with rosebuds
at the hem, the pink of which matched the color in her cheeks. Her
eyes shone brightly, and her wide smile warmed him. “I believe the
next dance is mine?”

“
You are correct, sir.” She took
his hand and followed him onto the dance floor.

“
When do you propose to stop
calling me sir? It is no longer required, you know.”

She tipped her head to one side. “What should
I call you? I can’t call you husband as yet, and fiancée seems
rather impersonal.”

“
Langley will do.” The music
started and he performed the first steps, speaking when he drew
close to Charlotte again. “Please never call me Andrew, though. I
expect to be sent to the nursery when I hear it.”

Her laughter floated up the scales softly. “I
shall remember that, as I’m certain it will come in handy at some
point.” She threw him a flirtatious glance and walked around the
other dancers.

Such a minx! In the short time since he’d
proposed, she had blossomed before his astounded eyes, finding a
confidence and ease he hadn’t imagined her capable of. He was
delighted to know he’d given her the opportunity to uncover that
part of herself.

Charlotte floated through the dance steps,
amazed she could perform them without concentration. When she
wasn’t focusing on which foot went where, her limbs went there on
their own.

So much had changed, and yet so little. She
was still Lady Charlotte Griffith for the next three weeks, but
everyone looked at her differently. Many more guests had come to
Hawking Hall for the ball, and word had spread quickly the duke had
chosen his bride. Those who’d been staying at the hall had probably
ascertained whom Langley had chosen by his increased attentions to
Charlotte, and they were more than happy to share the on dits with
the new arrivals.

She was used to people speaking behind their
hands as she passed by, but in the past it usually followed some
gaffe on her part such as ripping her hem when her heel caught it
in a dance. Now their gossip made her stand taller, hold her head
high.

Another change was the way Langley looked at
her. While his expression had originally bordered on perplexity in
her presence, now she read pride, affection…and maybe the
beginnings of love?

He grasped her hand in the dance and squeezed
her fingers, a silent message that sent shivers over her skin. He
was her duke, at last.

“
What are you
thinking?”

A flush warmed her neck and face. “Oh…nothing,
really.”

“
I don’t believe you. Your eyes
changed when you gazed on me.”

The dance took them apart again and she fanned
herself before taking the hand of the next gentleman. The music
eventually wound down and their set finished. Langley led her
toward the balcony. “You look warm.”

“
I am. I don’t recall dancing this
much in one evening.”

Langley’s arm brushed over her back as he
guided her around a cluster of guests. “Everyone is so excited to
meet you. They’ve spent the past few months arguing over who would
win my hand.”

And she felt like she’d won the grand prize.
She gazed up at him on the balcony and pondered on her luck. Was he
leaning down to kiss her? Would he do so in front of so many
guests? Her heart raced in anticipation.

Before he had the chance, a footman
approached. “Her Grace has requested Your Grace and Lady Charlotte
join her.”

Langley took her hand. “The moment is upon us.
Are you ready?”

“
No, but I’m not sure I’ll ever
be. Let us join her and put this behind us.”

The soon-to-be Dowager Duchess of Langley
stood near the musicians who were resting between sets. Footmen
hurried through the press of people with trays of champagne,
allowing the guests to each take one. The duchess’s face lit when
she saw Charlotte and Langley approach. “Come, children, join me
here.”

Langley squeezed Charlotte’s hand, and as they
turned to face the guests Charlotte saw her mother, father, sister,
and Mr. Foster standing nearby. The love in their expressions made
her stronger.

The duchess raised a hand and quiet washed
over the room. “My dear friends, you find me enjoying the grandest
day of my life thus far. It is my great pleasure to introduce you
to the lady who has captured my son’s heart, his future bride, Lady
Charlotte Griffith. Please join me in raising your glass to their
eternal happiness.”

The crowd cheered, then drank from their
champagne flutes. Langley lifted Charlotte’s hand to his lips and
kissed her gloved knuckles. Charlotte’s heart swelled until she
couldn’t draw a breath.

It was real, no longer a girlish fantasy. The
Duke of Langley had offered not just his heart, but also the whole
of himself, to be hers and hers, alone. Could any girl be any
happier than she?

The musicians struck a note and the crowd
backed away, like a receding wave. Langley motioned to the
clearing. “My lady, I believe this is our dance.” Then he swept her
into his arms and waltzed her about in front of their
guests.

Charlotte was unable to tear her gaze away
from his, no matter how badly she wanted to see the reactions of
those around her. Her duke, soon to be her husband, had eyes for no
one but her. Nothing could be more perfect.

She was finally in the arms of her duke, and
there she planned to stay.

About Aileen
Fish

Aileen Fish, author of the Bridgethorpe Brides
series, is published under several pen names, with stories ranging
from historical to paranormal, and heat levels from sweet to
scorching. She is also an avid quilter and auto racing fan who
finds there aren't enough hours in a day/week/lifetime to stay up
with her "to do" list. There is always another quilt or story
begging to steal away attention from the others. When she has a
spare moment she enjoys spending time with her two daughters and
their families, and her fairy princess granddaughter.

Stay up to date with book releases
at her website
http://aileenfish.com
or
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.

October 1811

Nadya Pankova placed unlit candles
around the tent in preparation for the evening’s fairgoers. She had
already hung the beads and arranged the pillows around the table,
but there was still much to do before her grandmother returned to
check her progress. Nadya hoped to have everything ready
when
Bunic
ă
returned so her grandmother would
rest before the fair opened.

Last night the elders had toasted to their
sponsor’s health with pints of ale provided by the high lord, and
their leader told tales of numerous houseguests milling about the
duke’s lawn with sticks and balls when he arrived to meet with the
duke’s man of business. Everyone in the camp was anticipating heavy
pockets when the caravan rolled away at the end of their
stay.

Baba Donka had arrived early that morning with
gossip about the Duke of Langley. The house party and fair were a
gift for the duke’s bride of one year. Apparently, he sent several
envoys all over England to find Nadya’s clan. No one knew the
reason only her clan would do, but Nadya suspected her
grandmother’s reputation as a brilliant fortuneteller was
responsible.

A month earlier the duke’s man had
barged into
Bunic
ă
’s
tent
and asked her grandmother several questions while eyeing Nadya as
if he had never before seen a gypsy. At the end of his interview,
he had stalked from the tent without a word, but soon Nadya learned
a generous offer had been extended, and the elders accepted it
without much fuss.

“
The duke is smitten with his
wife,” Baba Donka had pronounced, nodding her head as if she’d just
come from tea with the duchess and heard about the doting duke from
the lady herself.

Nadya released a dreamy sigh as she placed the
last candle in a tarnished holder. Call her a romantic, but she
enjoyed a good love story. She recalled Luca’s clear voice singing
around the campfire last night, the firelight flickering in his
dark eyes. He’d sung of two lovers separated by the gods, doomed to
roam the earth forever searching, but never finding one another.
The song was mournful and often brought her to tears, but Luca had
altered the ending to reunite the lovers. He’d given her the happy
ending she’d always craved.

If only she could have her happy ending with
him…

At three and twenty, she was well
past the age to marry, but she had no male relations to broker a
marriage arrangement on her behalf. Neither did she or
Bunic
ă
have money for a dowry.

It was just as well she had nothing to make
her appealing to her clansmen, or she might have been pushed to
accept a match. And she only wanted Luca.

Surprisingly, Luca’s father hadn’t gone in
search of a lost little cow yet, which was the men’s clever idea of
announcing they were seeking a wife for their sons. As long as
Luca’s father postponed the hunt for a wife, Nadya’s hope stayed
alive.

“
Don’t forget the
burners.”

Nadya jumped at the sound of her
grandmother’s voice. “I haven’t forgotten, Baba Lyunda. I will set
them outside next.” She held her breath as
Bunic
ă
shuffled into the tent. Her grandmother had grown unsteady
since her spell two years ago, and she refused to use the cane Luca
had carved for her. Nadya hurried to the tent’s entrance. “Come sit
at the table.”

Her grandmother’s slim fingers
clamped around Nadya’s shoulder, and she leaned on her as Nadya
assisted her to the table. Her grandmother grunted softly as she
lowered to her favorite pillow with Nadya’s help. Then she crossed
her legs with the agility of a much younger woman and smiled up at
Nadya. “Thank you,
chav
. You should do the readings tonight, I think.”

Nadya’s eyes widened. “Why? Are you feeling
unwell?”

“No,”
Bunic
ă
said
with a shake of her head. “But you should do the
readings.”

As usual, her grandmother provided no
explanation. Nadya suppressed a sigh so as not to insult her
grandmother, but she didn’t have much confidence in her own scrying
abilities. Most times Nadya was certain the things she saw and
heard were the result of a fanciful imagination, but the ones who
came to her seemed pleased with her readings.

“
Do you think it is wise when the
duke wants you, Baba Lyunda?”

“
You assume you know what is in
the man’s mind.”

Nadya didn’t argue. It was true. She didn’t
know what was in his mind, and his wishes were less important than
her grandmother’s anyway. “Very well. I will do the readings if
that is what you want.”