The Heart of a Duke (27 page)

He grinned. And he’d been more than content to
let her continue believing so, because for a short time he’d found
himself intrigued. No, that was putting it mildly. He was enlivened
by the cheeky-mouthed, wide-eyed young lady. And ladies did not
intrigue him. At least innocent respectable ladies in the market
for a husband didn’t.

Michael returned to his horse and swiftly
mounted the obedient creature. He ran his hands along her sleek
neck and unbidden thoughts of Lady Aldora’s delicate neck surfaced.
Something about Lady Aldora’s unashamed strength had crushed the
ennui that had dogged his every step.

An approaching rider drew his attention. He
looked up as his brother, the Marquess of St. James, drew alongside
him.

Removing his black brimmed hat, St. James beat
it against his leg. “Where’d you go off to?”

Memories of the winsome creature flitted
through Michael’s mind. At just a half foot shorter than his own
height, compared to other ladies, she would be a Spartan warrior
princess among mere mortals. His body heated as he recalled the
satiny smoothness of her flesh.

“
Michael?”

Michael lifted his shoulder in a shrug.
“Lucifer needed to flex his legs.” That much was at least
factual.

His brother’s gaze darted around, as if
searching for the hint of the truth in the shrubbery around them.
“I did see a young lady hurrying down the riding path moments ago,”
he remarked, smothering a yawn with his hand.

Michael directed his eyes forward. Blast the
woman’s stubbornness. He’d warned her off the riding path. Had she
not learned from her near trampling that it was hardly safe or sane
for her to be meandering down a riding path? “Did you,
now?”

“
Lovely thing,” St. James went on.
“Her hair hung about her waist.” He chuckled. “She must have been a
maid out for a morning romp.”

Michael’s fists flexed around the reins as he
fought an inexplicable urge to drag his brother from his horse and
plant a fist in his rakish smile. An odd burning flared in his
belly, and Michael stiffened as he recognized the emotion as
jealousy. As soon as the thought entered his mind, he shoved it
aside.

He scoffed. Why would he be jealous over his
brother’s admiration for Lady Aldora? After all, since she’d beaten
a retreat, hadn’t he too thought about the satiny feel of her skin,
the bow-shaped lips that had fairly begged to be kissed?

They continued riding while St. James shifted
the conversation to a topic far safer, his tailor. It also happened
to be a good deal less interesting than say, a young lady wandering
alone in the park, and calling Michael by the wrong
name.

Michael reflected on their meeting. What had
it been about Lady Aldora that had so intrigued him? With her
tumble into the shrubbery, her tightly-coiled ringlets had cascaded
down her back, drawing attention to the narrow-waist he could span
with his hands. Even as her chocolate brown eyes had snapped with
fury, he hadn’t been able to look away from the endearing
smattering of freckles that dusted her nose. Respectable, young,
and clearly in the market for a husband, she was by no means the
manner of woman he sought. He would be wise to set her from his
thoughts.

But as he entered his town house later that
afternoon, he rather suspected it wasn’t going to be easy to forget
Lady Aldora Adamson.

Chapter Two

Aldora scanned the crowd, not for
the first time at
ton
events, glad that she stood a good deal taller than most. Her
height made it easier to find her friends, or in this case the
Marquess of St. James. She had it on good authority that the
marquess would be present and so she, or rather, Mother, had
managed to secure an invitation to Lord and Lady Havendale’s
ball.

Two days had passed since she’d met St. James
in Hyde Park. For all she’d told herself she only cared about
pursuing the marquess for the security he represented for both her
and her sisters, after two days Aldora was forced to admit to
herself she wanted to see him. There had been something about him;
his frank honesty, the touch of his fingers on her skin, the
passion in his eyes, all of which had burned a mark upon
her.

She settled back on her heels and perused the
area, knowing even as she did that he hadn’t arrived.

Her mother, the Countess of Adamson, stood at
her side prattling on about some such gossip with Lady Aldridge.
Aldora may as well have been invisible for all the notice they paid
her, which was nothing short of a blessing for Aldora.

“
Are you looking for an escape?” a
familiar voice drawled.

“
Or are you looking for someone?”
another piped in Aldora’s ear.

She spun around, shoulders sagging in relief
at the sudden appearance of her friends. Valera, Lady Ravenswood,
and Lady Alison stood there, curiosity fairly pouring from their
like expressions.

“
Hullo,” Aldora replied, her mind
frantically spinning for a suitably evasive reply. “I didn’t
think…” She snapped her mouth shut.

Valera’s eyes narrowed. “I believe she is
looking for someone.”

Aldora glanced over at her mother, her heart
racing. Fortunately her mother was fully engrossed and hadn’t heard
her friends’ teasing. “No, I’m not! Uh—I mean I was looking for the
both of you,” she said on a hushed whisper.

Valera snorted. Of all her friends, Valera
knew Aldora better than anyone else. Valera was possessed of a like
solemnity and inherent sense of responsibility. Valera’s family had
despaired of her ever securing a match but ultimately the lovely
woman had earned the Earl of Ravenswood. Not only had Valera found
love, she’d found a powerful man who respected her and her
intelligence. Aldora knew it was the height of foolishness, but it
was the heart-shaped pendant and her friends’ matches that gave
Aldora hope that she too would find herself wedded to the very
marriageable marquess.

A smile turned up the corners of Alison’s
lips. “It doesn’t take an in depth medical study to determine you
are lying.” With her somberness and preference for a lengthy
scientific journal over a good soiree, Alison was so very different
from most young ladies.

Which is why she and Valera made for the
perfect company…and always had, since they were small
children.

Valera looped her arm through her
friend’s and whispered, “Perhaps you were looking for
someone 
and
 an escape?”

Aldora felt her cheeks warm.

“
Newton’s Apple!” Alison’s mouth
opened wide like a fish on land. ”Based on the rushing
blood and quickened breathing, I’d say Aldora is looking for a
specific gentleman.”

Valera directed her eyes to the
ceiling with a grin. “Blushing. It’s called blushing, Alison,
and can we please discuss something other than the color
of dear Aldora’s cheeks?”

“
Well, we could discuss the reason
why your cheeks have been pinker than usual since you met Lord
Ravenswood,” Alison said with a giggle.

“
Oh, do hush, Alison.”
Valera gave Alison a wink.

Aldora chuckled. She looked around the room,
searching for St. James.

Valera gave her arm a squeeze. “You must share
his identity.”

“
I don’t know what you’re talking
about.”

Alison snorted. “Of course you do.”

Aldora felt her flush deepen. Even if these
were her truest friends, they didn’t know the direness of Aldora’s
circumstances, and they most certainly didn’t know the only thread
keeping her family from tumbling into financial ruin was the
prospect of a wealthy, titled lord. And yet, she knew she was lying
to herself when she said her only interest in the Marquess of St.
James was his wealth and power. The truth of it was that since
their encounter in Hyde Park two days earlier, she’d not been able
to rid herself of thoughts of him. His roguish grin, his
willingness to climb from his horse and search on hands and knees
for the locket of a stranger all remained with her. She gave a
discreet shake of her head.

“
It’s no—”A thrill of awareness
coursed through her veins, and she stiffened, knowing intuitively
when he was near. The couple between her and the Marquess of St.
James miraculously shifted and Aldora had an unobstructed
view.

By God, he was even more breathtaking than
she’d imagined. With the benefit of her spectacles, she could now
marvel at his thick, unfashionably long black hair with the
faintest curl. His gaze that scanned the ballroom was flinty like
rock. Hard. Gleaming with intensity. This man was so…so virile, and
so very different than described in the scandal sheets.

Valera gave her arm a tug, jerking Aldora back
to the moment. When she glanced back out at the crowd, her heart
dropped in crestfallen disappointment as she found the marquess had
once again disappeared.

“
My goodness, you’re smitten.”
Valera whispered the words as though she’d discovered there was in
fact a rainbow with a pot of gold at the end.

“
Hush.” Aldora frantically glanced
around, praying no one had heard Valera’s revelation.

Mother remained in deep conversation with Lady
Aldridge. Aldora sighed. This had been the tedium of the night;
Mother gossiping away while Aldora’s dance card remained obscenely
blank. Alas, she wanted Aldora at her side so she could introduce
her to the gentlemen she’d deemed suitably marriageable for her
eldest daughter.

Except, her mother would never question her
absence as long as she believed Aldora had gone off with Valera and
Alison. Aldora leaned close to her friends. “Will you walk with
me?”

Alison’s face fell. “Mother is motioning for
me to return. Probably wants to introduce me to some dandy,” she
muttered before shuffling off with as much as enthusiasm as a man
making his way onto the gallows.

Valera looped her arm through Aldora’s and
politely interrupted her mother’s exchange. “Would you mind
terribly if I took some air with Lady Aldora?”

Bless Valera’s soul. She’d at last managed to
wrestle Aldora free of Mother’s grip.

Her mother paused mid-conversation, eyes
alight with pleasure. “Not at all, Lady Ravenswood!” She gave a
small wave before returning her attention to the generously rounded
Lady Aldridge.

Aldora wasted no time. She all but
dragged Valera from the spot. Valera had provided Aldora a freedom
to escape her Mother and other members of the
ton
without fearing recriminations.
“I am so very glad you’ve married,” she muttered.

Valera chuckled. “Why, thank you. Whatever is
this about? Never tell me we are searching for your
‘someone’.”

“
He is not my someone,” Aldora
said, her answer automatic and at the victorious light in her
friend’s pretty eyes, she wanted to call back the telling
admission. It was too late. The proverbial cat had been released
from his sack.

“So there
is
someone!” Valera whispered
excitedly.

Knowing it was futile to withhold the truth
from her friend, Aldora sighed. “There is.”

And the dratted man hadn’t bothered to search
her out. Why, the least he could have done following her great fall
at Hyde Park was inquire after her...but then, she supposed if he
were to do that, they’d both have a good deal of explaining to
do.

She pushed the thin-wired spectacles back on
her nose. After her chaotic outing at Hyde Park, Aldora had decided
to set vanity aside. She found she far preferred seeing the people
around her more than she cared about how the people around her felt
about her eyewear.

Valera expertly maneuvered Aldora through the
ballroom, steering her toward the doors to the terrace.

“
Your husband will be looking for
you.” Aldora’s protest sounded half-hearted to her own
ears.

A brilliant sparkle lit her friend’s gaze and
just then, Aldora would trade her right hand to feel such a thing
for a man and to have that man return her love. A sigh of envy
escaped her lips.

“
He will not mind if I’m gone for
a short while,” Valera said.

Aldora snorted. She rather doubted that. She’d
seen how Lord Ravenswood looked at his wife and knew he’d mind—very
much, indeed.

With the unseasonable chill to the early
summer air, all those lords and ladies seeking to steal some
forbidden moments must have sought refuge indoors, for which Aldora
was immensely grateful. She folded her arms and attempted to rub
warmth back into her skin.

Valera didn’t waste any time. “Who is
he?”

“
Who is who?” Aldora opted to
feign ignorance. At her friend’s down-turned lips, she sighed. “The
Marquess of St. James.”

Valera’s brows drew together. “St.
James?”

Aldora bristled at the shocked disapproval in
Valera’s question. “He would make a perfectly suitable
husband.”

Valera tapped the toe of her slipper in a
soft-staccato rhythm against the stone floor, the tone grating to
Aldora’s ears. “Yes but he’s….”