The Heart of a Duke (34 page)

Her stomach turned over as terror turned her
blood to ice. “Benedict!” She tore off through the empty park
toward the distant cries of her brother.

I shouldn’t have left him. I shouldn’t have
sent him off on his own. I should have joined him. The guilty
phrases fueled her steps.

As she crested a slight hill, she slipped,
staggered, and nearly fell in her haste to get to him. She caught
sight of his reed-thin arms as he flailed hopelessly in the water,
like a small pup tossed out to sea. Then a figure all but soared
through the air. Aldora gasped as a stranger launched himself into
the lake, his powerfully muscular frame created an enormous wave
that continued to ripple long after he dove in.

“
Benedict, I’m coming!” she cried.
The rapid pace combined with the sheer terror of losing her brother
caused a tightness in her chest. Aldora pushed through it, and
powered down the hill, skidding to a stop at the sight before
her.

Michael cradled Benedict against his broad
well-muscled chest, like Benedict was no more than a babe. Benedict
sputtered and choked. The man patted his back, the words he uttered
to Benedict were lost in the distance, but the soothing cadence
reached Aldora’s ears.

Her eyes slid closed as blessed relief filled
her. It was as though all the bones were sucked from her body, and
she sank upon the ground in a rustle of skirts.

Of course he should be here, her savior and
hero. She opened her eyes to find Michael striding from the water
with a soaked bundle in his arms. His foray into the lake had left
his breeches indecently clinging to oaken thighs. Beads of water
dripped from his soaked brow and splattered upon
Benedict.

Benedict stared adoringly back at Michael like
he’d been rescued by the angel Gabriel himself.

A warmth spread through her limbs, it filled
every space of her being until she thought she’d drift off on the
wings of happiness. It didn’t matter that Michael Knightly was
wholly unsuitable. He was the second, scandalous brother to the
gentleman presently courting her. He’d deceived her by withholding
the truth of his identity.

But there was no helping it.

She loved him—this unconventional man who made
her laugh, and now who’d saved her brother.

Aldora managed to shove herself to her feet.
She rushed forward, tripping in her haste to reach the
duo.

Michael glanced at her. His gaze, a molten
heat fairly scorched her skin, warming her through.

She felt a warm flush stain her
cheeks.

“
I drowned,” Benedict said weakly
as she stumbled to a stop beside him and Michael.

A sound—half laugh, half sob—escaped her as
she clasped his cheeks in her hand. “You silly boy. You did not
drown.” He had come dangerously close. Tears filled her eyes. She
gazed up at Michael. “I can never repay you.”

Michael’s jaw hardened. He set Benedict down,
and the boy ran into Aldora’s arms. “I don’t want anything you
have, my lady.”

Aldora winced. Even folding Benedict in her
arms and holding his precious body close did not tamp down all the
hurt Michael’s cold words had roused. Why should he be the one who
was bitter, hurt, and angry? It had been he who’d deceived her.
Still, for his fierce show of displeasure, Aldora could not simply
forget what he’d done this day.

She tossed her head back, and held his
stare.

“
He saved me, Aldi.” Benedict
awe-inspired voice cut into what Aldora had planned to say.
Benedict gazed at Michael with something akin to hero-worship.
“You’re quite the swimmer, sir. Very impressive stuff.”

All the harsh lines of Michael’s face
dissolved into a surprisingly sweet, gentle demeanor. “Thank you.
All those years sneaking away from my tutors to steal a dip in the
lake proved more useful than reciting the Latin alphabet,” he said
with a wink. “Lest I give you any ideas, don’t be skipping out on
your lessons.”

Benedict laughed. “Oh, don’t worry, sir. I
don’t have a t—”

“
That will be all,” Aldora said
hurriedly.

Michael’s brows dipped.

Aldora cleared her throat. She didn’t need
anyone knowing about their family’s financial state, especially
most of all this man, which had nothing to do with who his brother
was and everything to do with her own sense of pride and
self-worth. What would Michael say if he knew her father’s
scandalous gaming that had destroyed their financial
coffers?

Aldora knew the moment the fear of his near
drowning dissipated. Benedict pulled away, his face flush with
embarrassment.

“
You should say thank you to Mr.
Knightly,” Aldora said.

“
Thank you, Mr.—” His young brow
scrunched up. “How do you know his name?”

Her mind went blank at her inadvertent
mistake. “I-uh, I…”

“
We have met at social functions.
I’m the Marquess of St. James’s brother.”

Benedict’s eyes lit with a dawning
understanding. “Ohhhh, the marquess.” He glanced slyly in her
direction. “As in…”

Aldora glared him into silence.

Michael’s gaze alternated between her and her
rapscallion brother.

She cleared her throat. “We should be going.
My brother will surely catch his death.”

Michael inclined his head, the slight movement
sent a bead of water dripping over his brow. It trailed a path down
the furrowed brow, to the corner of his eye, and Aldora wanted to
trace it with the tip of her finger, flick it away. Heat infused
her cheeks. “Oh my goodness, you should be going, too. Why, you’ll
surely catch your death as well.”

He smiled. “I assure you it will take a deal
more than a dip in a cool lake on a near summer day to do me
in.”

She should leave. She should go. So why did
she remain standing there, staring at him, wanting him with greater
desperation than she would the fabled pot of gold at the base of a
rainbow?

His gaze pierced through her, warmed her all
the way through until she wanted to lose herself in him.

Benedict sneezed and the moment was
effectively shattered. He swiped the back of his hand across his
nose. “Aldi’s expecting the marquess, so that’s why we must be
going.”

Michael’s brows snapped together, fire lit his
eyes, and threatened to singe her skin with the burning intensity
of it. A sneering smile tugged at the corners of his
lips.

Aldora held a warding hand up to her breast.
His thoughts were clear. He took her as a fortune-hunting miss who
cared about nothing more than his brother’s title and
wealth.

Guilt twisted her insides. He was correct. She
was nothing more than a conniving, scheming miss. Did it matter
that her intentions were simply to save her brother and sisters
from poverty and ruin?

She wet her lips. “Benedict, start back to the
carriage. I’ll be but a moment.”

Benedict opened his mouth but then promptly
closed it. He proffered his most respectable bow to the man who’d
saved him. “Thank you very much, sir.”

Michael returned the bow, matching the younger
boy’s polite deference. “It was my pleasure.”

Aldora watched Benedict scurry off and stared
after him for a quiet moment. “You presume to know me. You, with
your hard stare and cold smile, judge me for things you cannot
understand.”

Michael continued to stand there in silence,
which gave Aldora the courage she needed to finish.

“
You don’t know what it is like to
have to lose everything in the hopes of saving your family from the
poorhouse. I’m not pursuing your brother for my desire for wealth
and title…for me.” She took a steadying breath, humiliated waves of
shame lapping at every corner of her body until she thought she
might break under the force of it. “My siblings have been without
tutors or governesses. They wear badly frayed clothing that we
stitch by hand, because there are no maids left. All that remains
between us and abject ruin is the patience of a rapidly tiring
creditor.”

Aldora forced her gaze over in Michael’s
direction. His face was an impenetrable mask, carved of immobile
granite. There was no outward reaction to her admission.

Uncomfortable with his intractable silence,
she dipped a stiff curtsy. “Thank you for…saving Benedict. I’m s…”
The word trailed off. What was she to say? I’m sorry that I fell
completely in love with you? I’m sorry you have such a low opinion
of me?

She spun on her heel.

His arm shot out, his fingers in an oddly
gentle manacle like grip closed around her wrist.

Aldora gasped from the heat of his touch more
than the alacrity of his movement.

Michael forced her back around to face
him.

“
Do you love him?”

Aldora blinked.

“
Do you?”

“
No!” she blurted. How can I love
him when you stole my heart in Lord and Lady Havendale’s
gardens?

“
I am
wealthy. I will care for your family
.”

Aldora’s heart picked a funny staccato rhythm
within her breast and soared on the wings of hope before logic sent
her careening painfully back to earth.

“
Your reputation.” Her voice
emerged as a pained whisper.

Michael’s head jerked back like she’d slapped
him.

“It is not
my
reputation I worry about,” she
rushed to reassure him. “I have to think about my sisters making
respectable matches.” It was very important to her that he
understood it was not her own inflated ego that she cared for. That
if it were her sole happiness that mattered, then she’d say to hell
with the marquess and wed Michael regardless of his wealth,
history, or lineage.

Michael released her wrist like he’d held a
venomous snake within its grasp.

“
I’ll not convince you to wed me,
Aldora. I’ll not humble myself any more than I’ve already
done.”

Aldora bit back a protest when he spun away
and stalked off down the hill.

A single tear fell, then another as she
stretched a hand out toward his retreating back.

Don’t go! Please, don’t leave
me.

Of course, he could never hear the tortured
unspoken thoughts of her ravaged mind.

Chapter Nine

I’m a bloody fool.

Michael stared out into the gardens below,
arms folded behind his back as he contemplated his earlier meeting
with Aldora.

At last she’d been honest with him. She was
scheming for a match with his brother. Like many of the other
grasping debutantes, it stung to accept the truth. She was out for
the wealth, power, and title like all the others.

With a growl, he stalked away from the window
and began pacing a path in front of his packed trunks. Except she
wasn’t like the others.

He’d witnessed the naked fear in her eyes when
she’d discovered her brother nearly drowning. In those eyes was the
gleam of a woman who’d do anything for her family—even if that
anything meant marrying for reasons other than love.

Love. He scoffed at the thought of it. When
had he ever put serious thoughts behind a marriage of love verses a
marriage of convenience? He’d merely accepted that he wouldn’t wed.
After all, his brother was the marquess and would possess the
requisite heirs which would leave Michael free to…

He paused.

What?

Free to sulk and lament the path his life had
taken following the scandal of his youth?

Michael had prided himself on his resilience
and strength in the face of his banishment. Only now did he
realize, he was controlled by his past.

Michael dragged a hand through his
hair.

Just as Aldora felt controlled by her family’s
past.

Except they didn’t have to be. If they were
courageous and bold, and if she loved him with the same
soul-binding power that gripped him, they could confront their
pasts and make a future not just for themselves, but also a future
for her family. With his brother’s connections and Michael’s own
financial power, he was not weak.

When Aldora had expressed her fears, he’d been
too wounded by his own self-pity that he’d stormed off like a
petulant child. He’d not stayed and fought like a warrior with
assurances of protecting her and her family. Instead, he’d expected
her blind love to conquer all the obstacles between
them.

He needed her.

His eyes snagged the ormolu clock at the
fireplace mantle and his heart fell.

She’d been expecting his brother’s audience
that afternoon. Even now their meeting was surely at an
end.

Dagger like pain wrenched through his insides,
and threatened to tear him apart like a vicious creatures sharp
talons. His brother had gone to offer for her. Michael was certain
of it.

The other scandals they might have overcome. A
broken betrothal was not one of those.