In Need of a Duke (The Heart of a Duke Book 1)

In Need of a Duke

Christi Caldwell

Copyright © 2014 by Christi Caldwell

Cover Art & Formatting by
GraphicsForAuthors.com

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or borrow it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

For more information about the author:

[email protected]
 

www.christicaldwellauthor.com

Prologue

1805

L
ady Aldora Adamson really supposed she should be attending her friends’ excited chattering with a bit more attention. But then, when one’s world hung in a very precarious place, well then the sight of a man spewing fire like a demon, and swallowing swords seemed so very silly.

“You seem rather distracted,” Valera said, bringing her back to the moment. “Are you paying attention, Aldi?”

And here Aldora had thought she’d giggled and chatted at all the right moments today.

“Er, yes,” she lied. She supposed she should be more grateful at the invite issued her family by the Marquess of St. Aidans’ but it seemed rather hard to be anything other than terrified when thinking about the trouble Father had wrought upon their household.

Her friend snorted. “No, you aren’t. We were talking about Elle’s betrothal to Langley.”

“Must you continue to spoil my fun,” Eleanor groused. “I’d rather not think on Langley tonight.”

The four girls looked to Aldora almost expectantly. Her mind spun as she tried to come up with any suitable response. She took Elle by the arm. “I agree. The very idea of marriage and Langley makes my skin crawl.”

“Aldora!” Valera frowned.

Aldora lifted her shoulders in a desperate shrug. “It is just that he’s…”
A powerful duke.
“He’s…” Her friends continued to stare.
Wealthy
. “He’s so old,” she finished lamely.

Her response set off a whole flurry of discussion on Langley’s age, and somehow Elle’s brother, and well…Aldora just welcomed the diversion.

She continued to trail along behind her friends, past colorful tents, and vibrantly attired gypsies.

Then her friends drew to a stop. Aldora bumped into Charlotte’s back. “Forgive me,” she murmured.

Valera spun to face her. A smile wreathed her face. “We are going to have our fortune’s told.”

“Our fortunes told?” She detected the heavy skepticism in her own question.

“Oh, yes,” Valera said on a nod.

Elle poked her head inside a nearby tent. “This is the fortune-teller tent, isn’t it?”

Aldora glanced up and bit back the urge to point out the sign hanging on a post above that read “Fortune-Teller”.

A young gypsy woman peeked her head from outside the tent, and the girls jumped backwards. However, she only waved them forward. “Come in. I am Nadya.”

The girls shuffled inside with varying levels of enthusiasm.

Nadya motioned to the old woman seated on the floor. The old, serious-faced gypsy woman greeted them. “Come in,
chav
,” she urged when they hovered at the entrance of the tent. “I am known to the gypsies here as
Bunic
ă
. And I will tell your future.”

Aldora didn’t need a fortune-teller to know that her family was one step from financial ruin, and certain disaster.

Eleanor marched head held high deeper into the tent. “I already know my future, but everyone should be able to boast about having had her fortune read at least once.”

The old gypsy smiled and urged the others closer

“Perhaps you will be,” the gypsy paused, “surprised,” Her gaze lingered a moment on Aldora, and then returned to Eleanor. “Eleanor,” the woman finished.

In spite of herself, Aldora’s eyes widened. A chill stole down her spine. For an infinitesimal moment, before she’d gone and directed her attention toward Eleanor, it had seemed as though the old gypsy spoke directly to Aldora.

“How does she know Elle’s name?” Charlotte whispered.

Valera shot a look in Charlotte’s direction. “She is magic. That’s how she knows her name.”

Lady Eleanor pursed her lips, obviously doubtful of
Bunic
ă
’s
powers. “Papa has paid for their services. Everyone knows who I am.”

Envy tugged at Aldora’s insides. There had been a time when she too had been confident in her own Father’s wealth and power. The dream of that life had disappeared as quick as one could utter the word faro.

The young gypsy woman, Nadya, glowered at Eleanor, as though offended by the girl’s pomposity.

“I have magic, too, and I will use it to decipher
all
of your names.”

Aldora would far prefer the kind of magic that could convert a pence into the fortune Father had lost at cards, but still, feigned an appropriate level of awe and interest in the exchange between the young gypsy and Eleanor.

“Very well then.” The arching of Lady Eleanor’s delicate brow demanded Nadya show her proof.

The woman’s jaw hardened. Then, she placed her fingers against her temples, closed her eyes, and began humming and swaying.

Aldora pointed her eyes to the ceiling of the tent. Surely her friends didn’t believe…

“What is she doing?”

“Shh.”

Yes, it appeared from Charlotte’s questioning, they did believe this great act.

Nadya snapped her eyes open. She pointed a finger at Valera. The bangles on her wrist jangled like chimes. “I see a letter.”

Charlotte hurried to the pillows and plopped beside Lady Eleanor. “What letter is it?”

“There is no such thing as magic,” her sister mumbled and came to sit too.

“I see a V,” Nadya said, slowly in her thick Romany accent. She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers over her temples.

Aldora peeked from the corner of her eye at her friends, wondering if they intended to part with their coins on a gypsy’s tricks. Her own hands tightened reflexively about her reticule, as the contents within had come to be all the more important in light of her family’s financial circumstances.

“It’s becoming clearer. I see a second letter, an A.”

“She is guessing,” Alison grumbled.

Aldora rather agreed.

Nadya’s eyes opened. “It’s
Vallie
. Your name is Vallie.”

Valera’s response was lost to the loud humming in her ears. Surely the gypsy’s act was all for show. Surely…
but what if it is not, Aldora
, a voice needled?

What if the gypsy possesses knowledge of what awaits you in the future?

Did she really want to know?

Her back straightened. As the eldest of her siblings, she did not have the right to bury her head from the truth of Father’s gaming, or the creditors calling. She had an obligation to confront her future with courage and strength. After all, she was fifteen.

Nadya waved her hand over a spot at the old gypsy’s feet. “Come, come,” she urged.

The girls hastened over to take their seats.

Aldora paused a moment. She pushed her spectacles up on her nose and hurried over as well.

Her friends handed their coins to the old woman. Aldora hesitated, and then registered the six sets of eyes trained on her. Heat climbed up her neck and she dropped her attention to her reticule. She fished around inside for several coins, and pulled them out.

“Come on, then,” Eleanor urged.

Aldora dropped the coins into the gypsy’s waiting hands. The woman stuffed them inside a purse, pulled the cord tight, and then tucked it into her lap.

Then Aldora waited.

The gypsy took several deep breaths. She grasped the sides of a nearby bowl and peered into the smooth water.

“I see a duke,” she said. “I see the heart of a duke for those of you bold enough to believe, and brave enough to embrace it.”

That would certainly be convenient considering Aldora’s circumstances.

The old gypsy directed her focus on Eleanor.

Aldora sat there wanting the old woman to turn to her, wanting her to share some optimistic view of her future, but in a specific way.

Alas, the gypsy spoke quickly, and curtly to Eleanor, and then the magic of the moment was ended.

Aldora stood on a sigh, and followed her friends from the tent. She cast a longing glance backwards as she thought of the coins she’d lost this afternoon.

They started down the fairway as one and reached the spillway. “Wait! Lady Eleanor, wait!”

Aldora and her friends turned back.

The young gypsy, Nadya unclasped a necklace about her neck, and hurried after them.
 
Reaching them, she held out the pendant. “There is more. My grandmother forgot to tell you about your necklace.”

Aldora’s eyes widened. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes, it is,” Lady Eleanor said. “But it isn’t
my
necklace.”

Nadya’s brows lifted. “Aye, but it could be yours.” She looked at each girl gathered around her. “Or yours, or yours, or yours, or even yours, Charlotte.”

Unable to resist the lure, Aldora leaned closer to better examine the pendant. Nadya lowered her voice as if to share some great secret. “Whoever wears this necklace shall win the heart of a duke.”

Aldora chewed at her lip. Weren’t all duke’s wealthy? She would greatly welcome a powerfully wealthy…

Lady Eleanor burst out laughing and her friends joined in, pulling Aldora from her musings. “I guess it
is
my necklace,” Eleanor said. “My betrothed is a duke.”

Nadya snatched her hand back when Eleanor reached for the pendant. Anger flared in the woman’s dark eyes.

“Aren’t you going to give me the necklace?” Lady Eleanor asked.

Nadya’s jaw clamped tight. “Seven shillings.”

Aldora considered the precious coins she’d already parted with. She could ill-afford to lose any more shillings this day.

Lady Eleanor bit her bottom lip. “I only have two left. Please tell your grandmother thank you, but I cannot afford the necklace.”

“But Elle, you
must
have it,” Valera said. “You can have my left over shillings.” She dug into her reticule and pulled out a coin.

Valera looked to her, and Aldora fumbled with her reticule as well. “Er, you may have mine, too.” Did her friends note her obvious regret?

“And mine.” Charlotte thrust her coin toward Lady Eleanor.