The Heart of a Duke

by Samantha Grace

  He breathed out sharply. “May we set aside the lessons and just converse, Lady Charlotte?”

  Her chest tightened and she couldn’t draw in a breath. What did she have to talk about with the duke? “If you prefer.”

  “You enjoy reading, don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir, it’s my favorite way to pass time.” Already, some of the stiffness was leaving her limbs. Perhaps she could become accustomed to this.

  His smile relaxed. “I do, too. You are welcome to choose a book from my library while you are here. If you can find a spare moment from the activities my mother has planned, that is.” Glancing at his watch, he added, “This is normally the part of the evening I spend reading, myself.”

  Charlotte laughed. “Do you have to hide from your mother to do so, too? I sometimes have to slip away to my favorite spot when we’re at home, so she won’t make me practice on the pianoforte.”

  “Do you sing? You must perform for us at the musicale the duchess has scheduled.”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t! I am terrified to sing in front of such a large group. I prefer to play while someone else sings.”

  “Well, I won’t force you to, if it makes you uncomfortable. But I would enjoy hearing you play. I shall turn the pages for you, if you like.”

  The very idea made her want to laugh. The Duke of Langley turning the pages for her while she played the pianoforte. Her friends would never believe it. “You are not how I made you out,” she blurted, and then chewed on her lip.

  His eyebrow rose again as his grin widened. “Oh? And how did you discern my character? Was it based on stories Lady Eleanore told?”

  “No,” she said with a giggle. “It was—” She stopped before telling him it was based on her daydreams of him. “That is, some of it was from the little Elle said, but mostly from what I imagined a young duke must be like.”

  He cleared his throat as he stood. “Come. Our mothers will be imagining all sorts of things if we do not return. I enjoyed our little lesson this evening, Lady Charlotte. I look forward to the next one.”

  As she dressed for bed later that night, she reflected on how kind Langley had been, and how difficult it was going to be to not fall even more deeply in love with him.

  No, she wasn’t in love with Langley. She was in love with a storybook hero who shared his name. The real man had none of the qualities she sought in a husband, nothing to recommend him beyond a title and suitable income. The real man was incapable of loving her in return.

  She repeated that thought as she fell asleep.

  Chapter Four

  Charlotte awoke in a large, comfortable bed and looked about her, not recognizing her surroundings. Oh, yes, she was at Hawking Hall, probably the finest house she’d ever been to. The furnishings weren’t out of the ordinary, but the craftsmanship of the woodwork was exquisite. Even the linens were extraordinarily fine. She ran her palm over the fabric and imagined for a brief moment she could waken on such fine sheets every morning.

  Shaking off the foolish thought, she jumped from the bed, crossed the room, and threw back the wheat-colored damask curtains. Beyond the manicured garden, hedge maze and gazebo she could make out the curving line of trees along the Lymington River. The grass was still green, though not as richly so as in the spring and the leaves were beginning to turn gold. The view took her breath away.

  With a rattle of the door latch, a maid entered. “Good morning, my lady. Would you like me to bring up some chocolate, or do you prefer to join the others below?”

  Charlotte went to where her dress was already laid out. “Are they all in the dining room already? I must have overslept.”

  “Some of the gentlemen have eaten already and have gone riding. Her Grace prefers her breakfast in her chamber. Your mother asked that you stop by her chamber before you go down.”

  The girl helped Charlotte dress, and performed some magic with her hair so it appeared much fuller. “How did you do that? My face looks rounder, not so long and thin.”

  The maid frowned. “Is this not to your liking? I can pull it more tightly.”

  “You mustn’t consider it. I prefer it this way. Will you be able to help me dress for the ball on Saturday? Or at the least, style my hair?”

  “Of course. I am to help you during your entire stay here.”

  Charlotte put the gold pendant around her neck and took a hard look in the mirror. She threw her shoulders back to see if her figure appeared more mature. She turned this way and that, trying to find a curve, but none had magically developed overnight.

  The maid stopped straightening the bedding and looked at Charlotte. “Is something amiss?”

  “No, nothing more than the usual.” Charlotte sighed and sat down to pull on her stockings.

  “Do you wish to wear a different gown? I can freshen another one quickly.”

  “Thank you, but don’t bother. I would still be putting the same figure in it.”

  The poor maid stood there with a wrinkled brow as if she feared she hadn’t done her job properly.

  Guilt weighed on Charlotte. “What is your name?”

  “Betsy, my lady.”

  “You’ve done your job well, thank you, Betsy. What I keep hoping for is to wake up and be rounder, like my sister.”

  “But my lady has a fine figure.” Betsy looked her up and down. “Her Grace always wishes she still had the figure of her youth. It seems to me the Quality are never happy with what they have.”

  Charlotte smiled. “You may be right.” After putting on her boots, she rose, smoothing her gown over her hips. “I’d better see what my mother wishes to speak to me about.”

  Her mother’s chamber was just across the hallway. Inside, Mama sat propped with pillows, the counterpane pulled high. A tray rested on the bed beside her with a chocolate pot and plate of toast.

  “You wished to see me?” Charlotte asked.

  “Yes, draw the chair close.”

  Moving the small, upholstered chair beside the bed, Charlotte sat and waited.

  “Now that we’re alone, you must tell me what you and the duke discussed for so long. I don’t believe what you told the duchess.”

  “Which time, during the pall mall game or after supper?”

  “Both. Begin at the beginning. He singled you out during your little game?”

  Charlotte’s lips twisted to one side as she considered her words.

  Mama frowned. She always chided her daughters about causing wrinkles.

  “The duke didn’t actually single me out. I accomplished that all on my own. The duke and Lord Pembrook were observing the rest of us as we played. My ball went astray and the duke helped me return to the lane marked off for play.”

  Mama chewed silently, then took a sip of her chocolate. “I suppose you will try to convince me you spent all that time alone discussing the rules of the game, as you said last night?”

  Charlotte squirmed under her mother’s probing glare. “Don’t be silly. I understood the rules. It was putting them into practice that flummoxed me.”

  “What did he say to you, then? Come, child, what happened that you must keep a secret?”

  “Nothing happened, Mama. Nothing worth mentioning.” Because mentioning it would cause events to fall into place which she wasn’t ready to face.

  “Really, dear girl, do you think I was never young? You don’t need to tell me his seductions, but at least admit he was paying you marked attention.”

  Once her mother learned just how marked his attention had been, there would be no discussion of whether or not Langley could love her. Mama would make certain the wedding came to pass. Charlotte knew she had to say something, mislead her, or her mother would continue to hound her. “The duke asked my advice on a rather silly matter. It was nothing important.”

  “Did you flirt with him?”

  She didn’t know how to flirt. That would require speaking to gentlemen, and the young men she felt comfortable speaking to didn’t elicit the desire to flirt. “
No, Mama. I behaved myself as you taught me.”

  “Oh, dear. You always were the perfect child, weren’t you? Now is not the time to be too proper. You must become the hunter, not the prey, if you wish to land your duke.” Mama took another bite of her toast.

  Charlotte’s heart stopped. “My duke?”

  Mama shook her head, the curls visible below her cap bouncing, and pointed a finger. “You girls didn’t think anything in our home goes unnoticed by me, did you? I know about that necklace.”

  Charlotte touched her fingertips to the gold heart. “But how?”

  “That is unimportant. Do you want to capture your duke or not?”

  It was time to confess. “I no longer wish to marry Langley. He speaks of marriage so matter-of-factly, I wonder if he’s capable of love.”

  Mama’s eyebrows rose behind the fringe of graying curls. “Does he? Charlotte, Langley wouldn’t speak of marriage unless he intended to propose.”

  “If you must know, he did suggest an arrangement between us. I believe he said he was in need of a wife and I should make an adequate duchess.”

  Her mother simply stared for the longest time. Her mouth opened and closed twice before she finally spoke, her voice as calm as if she were discussing the menu for supper. “And you only now thought to mention it?”

  “But Mama, that is not a proposal.” She brushed at a wrinkle on her lap to avoid looking up.

  “When spoken by a duke, it’s akin to a royal proclamation. Did you at least tell him you’d consider his proposal?”

  “Not exactly.” Charlotte’s words came out just above a whisper. “I offered to help him do a better job of it the next time he proposes.”

  “Charlotte! You didn’t. How could you?” Mama threw back the counterpane, tipping the now-empty chocolate pot on the tray. “Help me dress, child. I cannot wait for the maid to return. I must speak to the duchess this moment. Does anyone else know of this proposal?”

  “No, mum. Only Lord Pembrook.”

  Mama pulled her gown on over her night shift. “Well, I suppose that can’t be helped. What am I to do with you? Did you think to get a better offer next Season? There is no one better than the Duke of Langley. No one richer, no one more powerful, no one more handsome… I don’t understand what you hoped to gain by turning him down.”

  Tears welled in Charlotte’s eyes, and frustration burned in her empty stomach. She shrank back from assisting her mother. “I simply wanted to be treated like I mattered to him.”

  Her mother’s arms stilled and she set down her stockings and slippers. She turned around and opened her arms. “And I’m treating you no better.”

  Charlotte allowed her mother to envelop her and pat her back as she bent to rest her head on Mama’s shoulder. The tears wouldn’t come, and she couldn’t swallow away the lump in her throat.

  “The duchess says he’s been quite out of sorts since Elle eloped. She doesn’t believe her son was enamored of your friend, but the act was still a rejection. Now, if he wasn’t in love with Elle after all those years of being betrothed to her, one cannot expect him to fall in love upon meeting you.”

  Inhaling the comforting scent of lavender her mother preferred, Charlotte nodded. She straightened and smoothed her hair, but the ache inside hadn’t lessened. “I suppose you are correct. But did he have to propose to me so soon after asking my name? Only moments before, he’d told Lord Pembrook that any woman would suit him.”

  Her mother laid her palm against Charlotte’s cheek. “How those words must have stung, but gentlemen don’t look at marriage the same way we do. Sometimes they must be guided into the finer points of lovemaking. I will speak to the duchess about this.” She waved away Charlotte’s protest and sat to finish her toilette. “Between the three of us I am certain we can bring the duke up to your standards.”

  A dull heaviness settled in her stomach. Her mother was determined to see Charlotte married to Langley. But Charlotte wouldn’t be happy with anything less than love. The heart pendant radiated warmth against her skin. When she touched it, she found the metal cold. She tugged the heart from side to side on its chain.

  What an odd turning of events. Charlotte was trapped. Mama and the dowager duchess were going to scheme to help her capture the heart of the duke, whether she wanted it or not.

  Chapter Five

  Langley changed clothes after his morning ride and told his valet he’d take his coffee in his study. His mother had asked that he set aside his work while their guests remained, but he was unaccustomed to changing his schedule. He’d advised his steward to only contact him if there was an emergency, and his man of business was touring his other properties. Still, Langley insisted on sifting through the post each morning, and at least glancing at the headlines in the papers. Too many people relied on the profitability of his estates to shirk his duties.

  He was at his desk when Brooky entered, poured himself a cup of coffee, and sat in the wooden chair opposite the desk. “What is on the agenda for today?”

  “Are you referring to my list or the duchess’s? I haven’t seen her schedule. You might inquire of her.”

  “If I questioned the duchess that might imply my eagerness to participate. I prefer to make the discovery before being roped into submission.” His blew on his coffee. “No doubt whatever she has planned is aimed at finding you a wife, and I have no desire to take the blame for aiding in that endeavor. I had hoped for a good game of cards, but I’m capable of going a sennight without a wager. Although, I wouldn’t be opposed to making one on the likelihood you’re announcing your betrothal before the week is out.”

  “Seeing as that is the premise of this gathering, what would be the point of my wagering against it?”

  Brooky quirked an eyebrow. “No, I’m on the side of ‘against.’”

  “You speak nonsense. I could propose to any woman here to win. Has my mother put you up to this?” Langley pulled out his pocket watch and stood. “I’m not in the mood for falderal. It’s time I should be playing the host. Are you coming?”

  Before Brooky could answer, the door opened and Lady Charlotte entered. After closing the door softly behind her, she turned and gasped. “Forgive me, sir. I didn’t realize anyone was in here.”

  “As you see, we are enjoying some coffee,” he explained. “Would you care to join us?”

  She shook her head. “I shouldn’t be in here alone with either of you.”

  Here was a great opportunity to make her more at ease around him. Langley approached her with what he hoped was an earnestly friendly expression. The light from the window gave her face a soft glow. Rather angelic, in fact, and the effect made her quite pretty in an innocent way. “Why did you come?”

  “You said I might avail myself of your library.” She twisted her hands in front of her, obviously uncomfortable.

  “Of course.” He extended his arm toward the walls of books. “Feel free to borrow any of them. What do you prefer?”

  “I dearly love a romance.” She stepped hesitantly into the room. “Although I enjoy history and horticulture, as well.”

  He crossed to one bookcase and scanned the titles. “You might enjoy this one. And this.”

  When he reached for a third, Lady Charlotte spoke. “I’m only here a few more days, sir. Both our mothers would be rather upset if I stayed in my room the entire time.” Her voice had gathered strength, and a slight musicality kept it from harshness.

  “Oh, yes. I imagine you’re right.” He handed the books to her. “I wouldn’t be able to partake of my lessons, either.”

  Brooky snickered. “And the poor lady would be forced to marry you. Perhaps there was a method to your overloading her with books?”

  A startling wave of heat washed over Langley at the accusation, making him tug at his cravat to cool himself. He’d not even considered that aspect. “I hadn’t planned any such thing. The lady’s enjoyment was foremost on my mind.”

  “I imagine there is always a first time for everything.”
Brooky leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “What sort of enjoyment did you have in mind?”

  Langley ignored him. “Lady Charlotte, are there any other books you would prefer?” He didn’t know her well enough to be certain, but she appeared slightly less the timid mouse now. The notion pleased him more than he would admit, especially in front of Pembrook.

  “No, these will suit me, thank you.” She made no move to leave.

  “I believe the duchess has card games scheduled.” How curious he couldn’t recall the schedule when Brooky asked, but it came instantly to mind when looking for an excuse to spend time with Lady Charlotte. “Will you be playing?”

  “I imagine so.”

  He smiled. “Splendid. Perhaps I can partner with you. Do you play backgammon or chess?”

  “I do, both. I used to beat my father quite often in chess, though, so you might not want to challenge me.” There was a slight shift in her jaw as she said that, thrusting her chin out.

  “I’ll take that challenge. Lord Pembrook, here, doesn’t come close to beating me.”

  “I haven’t the patience to sit through those games,” Brooky argued.

  Again paying Brooky no mind, Langley guided Lady Charlotte toward the doorway. “Shall we see if the others have begun to gather in the drawing room?”

  Not waiting to see if his friend followed, Langley led Lady Charlotte down the hallway. Seeing a footman step out of the stairwell to the servant’s quarters, he asked, “Where are Her Grace’s guests?”

  “They are playing whist in the drawing room, Your Grace.”

  Just as he’d suspected. Entering the room, he found the young men and women sitting at small tables scattered about the room. Some of their parents also played, while others sat in small groups conversing. Not wanting to cause a stir, Langley let Lady Charlotte mingle on her own.

  He strolled about the room speaking briefly to his guests and moving on. As he approached one table, the elder of the two Martin sisters tipped her head to one side and batted her lashes at him. “There you are, Your Grace. I feared you’d abandoned us as too dull.”