The Heart of a Duke
Page 9
"I was," he said, his voice rusty. His hands found her waist, fingers fisting in the material of her dress despite his intention to remain in control.
"Were you?" Her smile was slow and sure. "I'm not as convinced as I used to be."
Jacob just shook his head, unable to summon a defense when she slid her fingers through his hair in that manner. She played with the curls at the nape of his neck, and he shivered at the delicate touch.
"Langley could cause trouble and make it difficult to gain support for an appointment to the King's Court,” she said. “And to say my father is going to be angry... well, I'm not sure there's been a word invented for how furious he will be that I've upset all his carefully laid plans."
Emotion threatened to choke him as he realized that for the first time in her life, Elle had chosen a path that would certainly damage, if not outright destroy, her carefully constructed reputation as the ton's perfect princess. The greatest wonder of it was that she didn't seem to care at all. Her face glowed, love shining through, not a shadow of doubt to be found.
Jacob hadn't thought it possible to fall in love with her any further. He was wrong.
"Don't worry about my career, love. I'll find a way to get where I was going without Langley. He's not the only lord with influence. I am sorry for the trouble with your father, though. I never wanted to cause any strife between you and your family," he said softly, his breath stirring the strands of hair slipping from her coiffure. Inhaling the sweet scent of her skin, he could not resist brushing his lips over her forehead, and she snuggled closer with a sigh.
"Perhaps after Father sees how much I love you as well, he'll forgive me. But if he doesn't, I will still be content, because we are together." She drew back to look him in the eye, her gaze wary. "We are together, are we not?"
Warmth infused him as he pulled her back into his arms. He sent her a teasing grin, the cracks in his heart filling with the joy of being hers.
She loved him.
"After that declaration? I have no intention of letting you go now. I've wanted you since before I knew what it meant to love a woman. I'll be yours now and forever, Eleanor Barnaby, if you'll have me."
The brilliance of her smile chased away the last stubborn vestiges of bitter darkness in his soul. She laughed, hugging him. "Of course I will. As soon as possible."
"Well, we are in Scotland, darling." His mouth found her ear, and he nibbled at the perfect pink lobe as she shivered. "We can be married by nightfall if you wish."
Elle pulled back, her wide-eyed gaze searching his. "Do you mean it?"
"With every fiber of my body." It felt like the world stopped spinning as she studied him, his chest tight with anticipation.
"Well, then..." She took his hand and led him toward the door, glancing over shoulder. The wide smile was back, her lips curving up in mischievous glee.
"What are we waiting for?"
Epilogue
Eleanore Farrish stared up at the town house only blocks from her family's home in Mayfair, and her stomach flipped.
"What's wrong, darling?" Jacob's voice was close to her ear as he stepped forward and slid an arm around her waist.
"Nothing really. Just nerves, I suppose."
He laughed as she turned to look at him, his hazel gaze dancing. "We just spent two hours having tea with your parents, and calming your father from the precipitance of an apoplectic fit, but now you have nerves? I don't believe it."
He did have a point.
Her father's rage and Mama's chilly disappointment at her marriage had been daunting, but together, Jacob and Elle had made it through the visit. They had even managed to come to a tentative peace, as Jacob and Father discussed the finer parts of the new prisoner reform bill that had just passed in the House. The marquess even shook his son-in-law's hand with grudging respect when Jacob and Elle took their leave, and extended an offer to have dinner at his club later in the week. Impulsively, Elle had hugged her father hard, causing him to sputter in a gruff manner, but she spied the flush of pleasure on his cheeks as they left.
Perhaps the damage done to her relationship with her parents wouldn't be quite as difficult to heal as they had feared.
Society was a different animal altogether, though. Jacob had been concerned her broken betrothal to Langley and their hasty marriage in Scotland would damage Elle's reputation, and in certain circles, it most likely had. But Val's last letter had been full of wonder and wry amusement at the gossip that had ripped through the drawing rooms of Mayfair. The duke may be respected, due to his vaunted position, but he had never been as popular as Elle. The ton could be a capricious beast, bestowing its favor on whim, and taking it away just as arbitrarily.
It seemed, however, the majority of society only saw the romance of their tumble into love, and loved them for it.
Elle never doubted she could manage the household of her new home, but secretly there were occasions when she had fretted as to whether she would be the sort of wife that complimented an ambitious barrister's career. With the support of the peerage behind them, though, she now had confidence that her brilliant husband would have his place in the King's Court in no time at all.
If there was one fly in the ointment, it was the stony silence from the Duke of Langley. Though Elle knew Jacob didn't think she had seen the lengthy letter he had written to his cousin after they married return unopened, she knew it hurt her husband. It worried her that he might have lost a friendship that meant so much to him, for his love of her. She knew better than to interfere in their troubles, having grown up with two brothers who fought like rabid wolves. They would have to work it out in their own time. It would happen, she had no doubt, once Langley recovered from the blow to his pride. The duke hadn’t cut off Jacob’s allowance, which said there was hope for reconciliation.
And if Langley took too long in extending the hand of friendship again to her beloved, Elle would be more than happy to provide a little shove in the right direction.
"Well, if you need time to calm your nerves," Jacob mused, interrupting her thoughts. "We could go for a drive in the park instead of going inside. But that would be a disappointment for the servants who are waiting eagerly to meet you."
She bit her lip, amused by the mock gravity in which he regarded the front door. "True."
"Not to mention, we won't have any time for ourselves before attending the opera with your brother and Miss Bell this evening." The sensuous look he gave her sent a rush of heat through her body and weakened her knees. Even after a month of being married, and all that came with it, she still loved the way he could jumble her thoughts with just one look.
The temptation of spending a few hours in the wickedly thorough embrace of her husband had her grabbing his hand and tugging him up the stairs. She tossed a grin over her shoulder. "Oh, I think we shouldn't disappoint the servants. I don't want to start off on the wrong foot, after all."
"Perhaps you should be off your feet altogether."
His naughty murmur had Elle choking back a giggle. She would attempt not to rush through the household introductions, but she had a feeling it would be an exercise in futility. The staff would just have to learn to rub along together, whenever their master and mistress abruptly abandoned duty to disappear together.
As they passed through the doorway, Jacob and Elle were confronted with several rows of neatly dressed servants with faces wreathed in eager smiles. She reached up automatically to touch her locket, and remembered why she no longer wore it.
Hopefully, this evening the gypsy locket would grace Val's neck, infusing her with the confidence she needed. Magic or not, the necklace had helped Elle recognize her true love. She couldn't wait to see what it brought her friend.
Jacob's hazel gaze shined with love and humor as he turned to introduce her to the staff.
"I'd like to introduce my darling wife, the woman who captured my heart before I'd even realized it was in danger. Craftier than any pirate, she didn't even fire a warning shot acro
ss my bow."
A ripple of chuckles echoed through the hall, and Elle swatted his arm, a smile tugging at her lips. Who knew that under the sharp barbs and teasing digs lay the heart of a romantic? Her new husband had fully revealed himself in the past few weeks. She would never be fooled by his prickly guard again.
Jacob raised her hand to his lips and her breath tangled, then he laced his fingers through hers in a firm grip.
"This Amazon of whom I speak is, of course—" His gaze locked with Elle's as he spoke into the hush of the front hall, one side of his mouth curling in a smile that made her suddenly feel quite, quite bold— "my beloved Mrs. Eleanore Farrish."
About Olivia Kelly
Olivia Kelly writes all sorts of things, in between chasing her children around their small section of North Carolina and drinking copious amounts of Coke Zero. The stories run the gamut from historical fiction to urban fantasy, but they always include smooching. She has two historical romance novellas published, It Could Only Be You and the Amazon Bestseller The Lady and the Duke. You can also find Olivia's work in A Summons from His Grace (from the Regency Summons Christmas Collection). The upcoming urban fantasy Good Ghoul Gone Bad will be published in Fireside Fiction Co. (June 2014), under her pseudonym D.B Starler. You can find Olivia at her website, http://oliviakellyauthor.weebly.com/, or on Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest, Goodreads and Google+.
Samantha Grace
Chapter One
June 1810
Valera Bell touched the heart pendant hanging around her neck and silently repeated the gypsy’s words. This necklace shall lead to the heart of a duke.
Her stomach fluttered. Well, she was about to put the gypsy’s prophecy to the test. That is, if the Duke of Langley exited the card room before her sister realized she was missing from the ball.
A creak outside the dark sitting room where Valera was hiding sent her scrambling to check the corridor. No one was there, yet again.
“This is madness,” she grumbled and sank against the wall. The duke could be in there all night.
She was tempted to abandon her post and scurry back to her place among the wallflowers, but the memory of her older sister’s cutting remark about Papa having wasted money on her coming out made her fingers tighten on the locket.
Valera wasn’t the prettiest debutante. Nor did she have the largest dowry. Her family wasn’t even among the most influential in England. But she had something better.
She had magic.
And she was going to need it if she planned to marry the most sought-after bachelor in Town and make her Papa proud. She nibbled her bottom lip and prayed Elle had given the locket—and her blessing to pursue her former betrothed—to the right friend.
The muffled noises from the card room grew louder for a moment, as if someone opened the door, then quieted again. Valera shifted her weight to peek through the crack between door and jamb. Two men were headed in her direction. They passed through a pool of light from the wall sconces and her legs began to shake.
It was Langley. His dark curls created a halo with the light behind him, and his face became lost in shadow.
A wave of nausea swept through her as she realized what she needed to do to gain his attention. She took a deep breath and grabbed the door handle with trembling fingers. God helps those who help themselves. Jerking the door open, she flew into his path and braced for impact.
The duke collided with her, but instead of warm arms wrapping around her to save her from a fall as she’d anticipated, she stumbled back and landed on her bum with an undignified “Ooff!”
“Miss Bell!” An alarmed voice barely penetrated the rattling in her ears. “Look what you have done, Langley.”
“What I have done? The chit ran into me.”
And the duke hadn’t even tried to save her. This did not bode well for the start of a courtship.
His companion knelt in front of her, his thick brows drawn together.
“Lord Ravenswood,” she said on a breath. Elle’s brother, Alex. Thank heavens for a familiar face. She practically melted into the carpet gazing up into that handsome face so close to hers. It had been a few years since they had spoken, but Valera had been watching him from afar this Season.
“Have you been injured, Miss Bell?” Alex’s blue eyes lit with brotherly concern as his large hands closed around her upper arms.
A current shot through her where he touched her, leaving her more rattled than the fall. “N-no, my lord. I do not believe so anyway.”
Langley watched the exchange with a dispassionate stare. “The girl is unharmed. Let’s continue to the ballroom.”
The tingles dancing along her skin faded and her heart dropped. Could His Grace not spare a moment to pretend concern for her?
Ignoring the duke, Alex gently helped her stand then readjusted the headpiece knocked loose in the fall. It flopped against her ear again. A slow smile spread across full lips and chased away the chill of Langley’s dismissal. “Perhaps you’ll want to visit the retiring room before returning to the ball.”
Langley raised an imperious brow and leaned to peer inside the dark room. “What were you doing in there, girl?” His piercing stare made her palms moist.
She picked at her gloves. The duke had made her a little uneasy the few times she had been in his presence, but she thought everything would be different since she was in possession of the locket and destined to become his bride. “Uh… I thought it was the withdrawing room?”
“Is that a question?” The duke’s voice snapped like a whip. “Where is your chaperone?”
His chastisement hit its mark and she blushed. Her sister had been basking in the adoration of a foppish viscount when Valera checked before stealing from the ballroom. Janine thought her too meek to do anything this daring.
More like foolish. Tonight wasn’t turning out like Valera had envisioned.
Alex drew her protectively to his side, towering above her and lending her a sense of security. “Miss Bell isn’t responsible for your foul mood,” he said.
The duke sniffed. “No, that would be your fault, Ravenswood. Another kick from the Barnaby clan. You’re as loyal as your sister.”
Valera gasped as Alex tensed beside her. If anyone overheard Langley, he might conclude the duke hadn’t given his blessing for her dear friend Elle’s marriage to the duke’s cousin, Mr. Farrish.
Langley’s mouth twisted sardonically. “Now I see the reason you avoid innocents in favor of widows, Ravenswood. Too easily shocked.”
Intense heat engulfed her. For a moment, she had forgotten Alex’s roguish habits and allowed herself to be caught up in the lovely sensations his touch created.
Foolish girl. Alex was her best friend’s brother. He would never see her as a lady of interest, nor should she want the kind of attention he bestowed on women. Valera was seeking a husband and the duke was in the market for a wife.
Alex nudged her in the same direction where the card room lay. “You should run along to the retiring room, Miss Bell. It is to the left at the end of the corridor.”
She bobbed a quick curtsey before lifting her skirts and hurrying away from the men.
“Watch your step, Your Grace,” Alex bit out, his deep voice carrying on the air.
“I didn’t see the chit. She is as quiet and small as a mouse.”
“That was not my meaning.”
The duke’s words were like a dark cloud chasing her heels. Even after he’d mowed her down, he thought her beneath his notice, as invisible and insignificant as a rodent. This was going to be tougher than she’d imagined, winning the heart of a man who might not have one. Perhaps she should give the pendant to one of her other friends and set her cap for a gentleman with a lesser status who wasn’t so surly.
Her step faltered and her eyes widened as her favorite fable came to mind. The mouse and the lion. The duke’s surliness could simply be a case of Langley with a thorn in his paw. What if all he needed was a brave little mouse to show him kindness?
Alexander Barnaby, Earl of Ravenswood, heir to the Marquess of St. Aidans, shook with repressed anger as he entered the ballroom with Langley. To Hell with smoothing over the rift created between their families when Alex’s sister jilted the duke. Alex had tolerated as much of the man’s company as he could stomach that evening. He should find an accommodating lady’s bed to warm and cut the evening short.
He scanned the ballroom for a promising prospect, but all he could picture was Miss Bell sprawled on the plum Aubusson, her whiskey-brown eyes round with shock. And damnation! Little Vallie Bell had grown up and filled out in all the right places when he hadn’t been paying attention.
Alex hadn’t seen his sister’s childhood friend in some time, but he remembered her as a shy, sweet girl. In truth, he’d always held a soft spot for her over Elle’s other friends. Vallie had always seemed a little too wise for her age. Perhaps it was because she had been forever spouting off proverbs like ‘Think twice before you leap’ and ‘He laughs best who laughs last.’ His personal favorite was ‘Figures don’t lie, but they won’t make a hen lay’. What did that even mean?
He warmed inside at the memory of finding her in the library one day with a stack of his father’s books beside her on the table. She had chosen the oddest subjects—animal husbandry, architecture, battle strategy. And she had fascinated him with her ability to speak intelligently about the Vikings’ tactic of retreating to a protected bay and tying their ships abreast to meet their enemies head-on if forced to battle at sea. Alex had become so engrossed in their conversation he had forgotten about attending one of the local horseraces he’d been looking forward to all week.