“Those gilded sparks in your eyes. They captured me the first time you looked down from the oak tree. Little shards that lodged right here.” He pressed a hand over his heart.
“Sounds painful,” Mina teased.
“Agonizing.” He bent forward and kissed her cheek. “Until you put me out of my misery.”
Mina pulled Nick toward the center of the ballroom.
A few guests were milling near the refreshments, some stood taking in the frescoes, and others had drifted off to the drawing rooms to chat and await the start of the dance. When the musicians saw Mina and Nick step to the center of the ballroom, one violinist began to play.
Nick spun with her, and Mina’s heart felt as if it might burst in her chest. The joy was almost too much.
As fairy tales went, she couldn’t have asked for a better one.
“You don’t mind dancing with me?” she asked him. “I know you’re not fond of balls.”
“I told you, Duchess. I’m prepared to give you anything you want.”
“And you?” Mina held him closer than was proper, needing to feel his strength and warmth flush against her body. “What have I given you?”
“More than I deserve.” He swallowed hard. “A kind of peace I didn’t expect to come my way. Ever.”
“Even here?” Mina traced the edge of his jaw with her fingers. “At Enderley?” She was still prepared to leave and not return, if that’s what he wanted.
“We’re together. That’s all I need. Wherever we are, I won’t even notice the walls. Only us.”
“Us.” Mina smiled so wide her cheeks ached. “I do like the way that sounds.”
Nick smiled, glanced around to see if anyone was watching, and then bent to take her mouth in a searing kiss.
Epilogue
Huntley frowned as if thoroughly confused, but one blond brow winged up as if he was willing to be intrigued. Iverson was so excited he bounded up from his chair and began beaming, rubbing his hands together as if he’d just won the entire contents of Lyon’s vault.
“I take it you like the idea,” Nick said drily from one of four chairs he’d set out for their meeting.
Across from him, Mina offered a smile that still caused heat to unfurl inside him.
“Explain it to me again.” Huntley crossed one leg over the other and rested his clasped hands on his waistcoat. “No more gambling? No more fun?”
Nick chuckled as Iverson paced excitedly behind him. “I suggest we phase out game play slowly. Shift the purpose of the club and then consider our options.”
“We could,” Mina started, hesitated, and then continued on when the three of them stared at her expectantly. “Might I suggest that we set aside a few rooms where inventors could wait and prepare their documents and assemble their thoughts before presenting their ideas to you?”
“I like it,” Iverson said immediately. “We needn’t even see prospective inventors every day. We could set aside one or two days per week to hear their ideas. Bring in five on that day, perhaps.”
“How many are we expecting?” Huntley suddenly looked less at ease. “You may love your bridges and railroads, Iverson, but handing out funds to every man in London with a wild idea will soon bankrupt all of us.”
“We won’t fund them all,” Nick put in. “Just as I did not loan to every nobleman who visited me in the den. We listen, assess, and then decide if or how much to invest.”
“Not all of them will come with viable ideas like the duchess’s cousin.” Iverson winked in Mina’s direction.
Nick reminded himself the man was one of his dearest friends.
“Fairchild is eager to come with other ideas, so we already have one inventor interested.”
Huntley stood too, though he didn’t join Iverson in his excited pacing. He assessed the room. “So you’re both certain this will continue to make us money? As much as the gaming tables?”
“We won’t know until we try,” Nick said, feeling extraordinarily hopeful. A sensation he wasn’t used to, but he was learning to embrace, along with his wife’s impulse to do good.
“And we’ll celebrate after every decision to invest?” Huntley asked, then looked around the unadorned space. “This room could do with a drinks cart and more comfortable chairs.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Nick saw Iverson shake his head and pinch the bridge of his nose. Mina’s laughter carried across the room, making the dimly lit space feel brighter.
“Men don’t come down to the den for entertainment and diversions, Huntley.” Nick stood up from his chair and approached Mina.
The more he looked at her, the more Nick thought a diversion directly to their private quarters was in order. He’d expanded the space and Mina had made changes to make the rooms her own, but they were still searching for the perfect London townhouse to suit them.
“Are we agreed, gentlemen?” Iverson asked. “Shall we at least try Nick’s idea of inviting inventors to the club and selecting a few to present their ideas one day per week?”
“Actually, Iverson.” Nick wrapped an arm around Mina’s waist and smiled down at her. “It wasn’t my idea.”
“Well done, Duchess,” Iverson said as he shook Nick’s hand. “And Duke.”
“What shall we call this little investors’ club of ours?” Huntley asked as he started toward the door.
Nick shrugged. “The noblemen always called it the den.”
“Then it’s the Duke’s Den now.” Huntley waved resignedly as he crossed the threshold. “I shall see you all next week with a pile of pounds to give away to some madman with a clever idea.”
“He doesn’t seem fully convinced,” Mina whispered when he’d departed.
“Huntley is a bit of a pessimist,” Iverson told her as he donned his overcoat and straightened the cuffs. “Don’t let his n’er-do-well exterior fool you. He’ll come around and he’s bloody impulsive. The first time a man presents us with an idea he likes, he’ll be the first to commit funds.”
“What about a woman?” Mina asked.
Iverson frowned and then glanced at Nick with a bemused expression. “Huntley is very fond of the fairer sex.”
Mina’s laughter echoed off the low ceiling. “I meant what if a woman wishes to present her invention?”
Nick exchanged a raised brow glance with Iverson. They’d followed the custom of most gentlemen’s clubs in not allowing women entrance or membership. But this was a new venture, and with Mina by his side, Nick was prepared to consider almost any possibility.
“Isn’t that a thought,” Iverson said with the hint of a smile. Apparently, he didn’t mind the idea either. He turned his assessing gaze on Mina and then Nick. “You two make an excellent pair.”
“I think so.” Nick shook his friend’s hand, one firm grip, as if they were agreeing to a bargain. “Between the two of you, I’m beginning to see the usefulness of progress.”
When Iverson had gone, Nick turned to Mina and held her close. Her eyes were shadowed with worry, her brows dipped into a frown.
“What is it, Duchess?”
She stared at his shirtfront, toying with one of his buttons. “When I got word you were coming to Enderley, I was full of apprehension. I thought you’d dismiss me because I hadn’t told the entire truth to your solicitor. Then—”
“I came and began burning artwork.”
She choked back a burst of laughter. “It was just the one painting. But now I see that your arrival changed everything for the better.” She pressed her lips together before looking up at him. “And now I’ve suggested that you change everything you hold dear. Are you sure it’s for the better?”
Nick bent his head and kissed her softly, then whispered against her lips, “Yes.”
“No doubts?”
“None.” Lifting his head, he gazed around the space where he’d taken such glee in watching other men suffer. He quite liked the notion of undoing that avarice by giving smart inventors like Colin Fairchild a chance. “You have changed my li
fe, Mina, but whether I knew it or not, I was in desperate need of alteration.”
She lifted onto her toes and pressed her mouth to his, her fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. “Not entirely, I hope. There’s quite a lot about you”—she trailed her hand down his body—“that I like just as it is.”
Nick reached down and clasped her hand, then started toward the door.
Mina hesitated only a moment and asked in an amused tone, “Where are we going?”
Over his shoulder, Nick grinned at his wife. “To our chamber. I thought perhaps you could show me all the parts you like.”
Acknowledgments
Love, appreciation, and a thousand thanks go out to Darcy, Lana, Erica, Christina, Megan, Jan, Karen, Charis, Cynthia, and my agent, Jill, for feedback about this book from the earliest kernel of an idea through the writing process. The faults in execution are, of course, only my own, but your insights were never faulty. And your thoughtfulness was always appreciated. Thanks too to Monique for amazing insights.
Heartfelt thanks, too, to everyone at Avon who touched this book as it moved from proposal through to production.
Most of all, enormous gratitude to my readers, whether this is the first book of mine you’ve ever given a chance or if you’ve followed me for story after story. Thank you.
Anything But a Duke
Iverson’s story is next in
ANYTHING BUT A DUKE
On sale April 2019 from Avon Books!
Pre-order now!
About the Author
Fueled by Pacific Northwest coffee and inspired by multiple viewings of every British costume drama she can get her hands on, USA Today bestselling author CHRISTY CARLYLE writes sensual historical romance set in the Victorian era. She loves heroes who struggle against all odds and heroines who are ahead of their time. A former teacher with a degree in history, she finds there’s nothing better than being able to combine her love of the past with a die-hard belief in happy endings.
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By Christy Carlyle
The Duke’s Den Series
A Duke Changes Everything
Coming Soon
Anything But a Duke
Romancing the Rules Series
Rules for a Rogue
A Study in Scoundrels
How to Woo a Wallflower
The Accidental Heirs Series
One Scandalous Kiss
One Tempting Proposal
One Dangerous Desire
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
a duke changes everything . Copyright © 2018 by Christy Carlyle. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.
Digital Edition NOVEMBER 2018 ISBN: 978-0-06-285396-7
Print Edition ISBN: 978-0-06-285395-0
Cover illustration by Jon Paul Ferrara
Avon, Avon & logo, and Avon Books & logo are registered trademarks of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America and other countries.
HarperCollins is a registered trademark of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America and other countries.
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