The Heart of a Duke (37 page)

“Come here.” Papa’s voice held
that tone he reserved for when she resisted his will, which she
rarely
intended
to do. “I would speak with you. Now.”

She walked toward him, but her eyes didn’t
want to leave the object of her study and returned to the
interesting specimen outside the window. She fought her frown when
Mr. Foster moved out of view, but then she saw Papa, who had a
habit of rubbing his temples when vexed, had actually twirled his
dark hair out of shape above one ear. She allowed the corners of
her mouth to slide down. Those untidy locks did not bode
well.

Then her chest seized up on a gasp, and it
became a harsh rasping sound as it forced past. Oh heavens, had
Papa seen her staring in such an improper way?

“
Yes, Papa?” She fisted her hands
behind her back to keep them from the inadvertent mischief of her
thumbnail making its way between her teeth. “Have I forgotten
something? I thought I returned all your scientific journals to
their proper places, but—”

“No, no. Your
younger
sister is out in Society
now,” he said as if he need say no more.

“
Erm, yes, she looked
lovely.”

He sighed, a rare thing for her
proper father. “Alison, I have been as patient with you as I could,
but now the time has come for me to put my foot down. I want
happily matched daughters, not spinsters. Of course, I realize you
are still young, but you seem to have no interest in the men of
the
ton,
despite
your mother’s efforts at matchmaking. Why, I’ve hardly seen you
even
attempt
to
speak to any of the lords your mother has invited into our home,
and your sister is following you along. I’ll see to her soon
enough, but neither of you will
ever
marry if you will not spend
time in the company of a proper gentleman.”

“
I…I have tried.” Alison glanced
off toward the rows upon rows of scientific journals and thick
tomes she’d spent most of her life studying. After all, it wasn’t
the sign of a refined lady to show interest in such masculine
knowledge. At least, not according to Mama, who had blamed Alison’s
failed seasons on her open discussion of the sciences. Even during
those few times she’d defied her mother’s wishes and had spoken of
science, she quickly realized that such conversation didn’t
interest most men. Though in truth, those conversations were
limited to the old gardener, her pompous cousin, and a handful of
footmen who had seemed more alarmed that she’d spoken to them than
interested in the conversation. As for Mr. Foster, she had often
wanted to share her opinions on science when he spoke his, but half
the time his handsome features had mesmerized her into
incomprehensible babbling, and the other half she’d kept quiet for
fear of sounding foolish.

“Well, the time for
trying
has passed. I
have received word from a duke, and several other lords who are
interested in making an alliance with the daughter of an earl, and
our family in particular. I made certain you have a dowry to be
envied and I await the offers. Your mother has invited the best
men, all of whom are from well-bred families, and I expect you to
do your best to engage them and show them your value. By your
birthday, you
will
have offers and you
will
accept one. That allows you four days to speak
with—and encourage—each of the men your mother has
invited.”

Alison bit her lip as her chest
tightened. Her father had never said her awkward and less than
graceful manner made her less than her sister, and she’d always
loved that about him, but he’d increased her dowry days from her
twentieth birthday. The action spoke volumes. “I am sorry I’m not
as graceful as Mama. I try to model my behavior from hers. I watch
her for hours, but I am so terrible at mimicry that she often
believes I’m teasing her. And I feel dreadful that I am not
comfortable with the men of the
ton
. I never know what to say when
they speak of horses or shooting and I often find myself babbling
incoherently about the plight of horses having to bear a man’s
burdens. Those conversations are dull as dust, and the
things
I
enjoy
would never interest them, even if Mama would allow me to mention
the sciences.”

Why couldn’t social grace come naturally, as
it did to her friends? Alison was so different from them. Instead
of spending her time inside doing ladylike things, she spent every
free moment outside either with a science tome or a specimen of
some unusual rock, bug, or plant. As marriageable packages went,
she was not at the top of any man’s list—a truth she’d learned
after two painful Seasons spent pressed against a hard wall, doing
little more than perfecting her posture.

“Do not make excuses for yourself,
and never fear you are less than any other woman. You’re only
different. You have a unique beauty and grace all your own.” He
grinned, another rarity for her father, and ran a hand along her
forearm. “Choose a lord, for I think you will find they will
all
choose you.” Then
his face turned somber. “However, if your birthday comes and goes
and you have not chosen,
I
will be forced to select a husband for
you.”

Alison knew exactly whom Papa
would choose—the Duke of Langley had arrived moments before
Jonathan. She gritted her teeth in a manner that drove Mama mad,
but thank heavens Papa didn’t reprimand her. No woman could wish
for a more powerful or influential husband. Even if he
were
a pompous man, so
full of ego and lofty position that he would consider himself the
only person of importance in almost any situation.

She relaxed her jaw, determined to stop being
childish. “I am woman enough to choose. If any of the men offer, I
will do so and do my best to make you proud.”

“
They will and you certainly
will,” he said, his eyes shining. He stood straight again, ever the
earl, and gently emphasized his next words. “Provided you choose a
husband.”

Quarter of an hour later, while the last of
the guests settled in, Alison nibbled the tip of her thumbnail and
tried not to stare at Mr. Foster, who spoke to Papa in the center
of the library.

“
I’m working on a lamp which might
be used in coal mines to keep miners safe from the threat of
explosion. I had initially considered flint and steel. You see, the
flint rod would be inserted into a steel ring. When it slid in and
out, tapping against the metal, the frictional energy would create
a spark within the enclosed chamber.” All of a sudden, he lowered
his head and his jaw twitched as he continued in a quiet and tense
tone, “But the glass was prone to shattering and I have yet to
decipher how to feed fresh air into the lamp safely and without
inconvenience. I may need to consider a different
method.”

“
Fascinating.” Papa’s voice rose
and Mr. Foster looked at him again. “Scientific study has always
intrigued me, the trial and error until one finally reaches the
perfect conclusion. You must share some of your recent discoveries
or inventions with the rest of the party when they arrive. I’m
certain you will captivate them.”

“
Science is captivating, indeed.
In particular electro-chemical research, which I find myself
delving into of late.” Mr. Foster’s words came faster and he
gestured with a wide swing of his arm, which just missed a nearby
table. “I am determined to make a name for myself in the world of
science, choose a wife, and settle into married life.”

Papa gave an approving nod. “I’m sure you
will.”

Alison smiled around her thumbnail. Though Mr.
Foster was often quiet and enigmatic, he could be jerky and unaware
of his surroundings when exceedingly interested in a topic. She had
never actually seen him knock something over, but still, she loved
that about him. She’d always been the same way—just a touch
inappropriate and ill suited for most social situations. His
negligence of certain social rules made her feel less out of place.
She wanted to kiss him for it, but instead of returning her wicked
overture, he might well ask her what the devil she was doing. After
all, she’d tried once before to catch his eye. To say she hadn’t
succeeded was a massive understatement.

Vaguely Alison thought she heard someone say
something to her, but she couldn’t bring herself out of her
memories of the two-week long humiliation.

Just after her coming out, she’d spent an
entire visit listening with rapt attention to every word Mr. Foster
had spoken, which hadn’t been difficult. She’d smiled, laughed,
avoided revealing too much of her unladylike knowledge—all the
tricks her mother had guaranteed would bring her a man’s affection.
Yet, despite her best efforts, she’d also been loud, ungraceful,
and a hundred other awful things. She’d been such a disaster, the
few times she’d caught him alone, that he’d excused himself and
rushed off to “see to his experiment.” Still, one bright afternoon,
her foolish heart had deceived her silly brain into thinking he
might kiss her. She had been standing close as he’d spoken of the
manner in which the voltaic pile could conduct electrical currents
using only copper, zinc, some brine-soaked cloth, and a few wires.
All of a sudden, he’d stopped and stared in her eyes. Hanging on
that pregnant pause, she had leaned in slightly and prayed he would
kiss her. But he’d nearly tripped over his own feet trying to make
his escape.

“
Alison.” The vague voice grew to
a loud whisper.

Mr. Foster had a face handsome enough to make
women swoon, so she couldn’t expect him to choose her, but she’d
opened her heart to the man and he hadn’t even noticed as it
plopped to the dirt at his feet.

“
Alison!” The voice hissed in a
fierce whisper this time.

Alison winced, jerked her thumb from between
her lips, and turned to face her sister, Charlotte. “Oh,
dear.”

Charlotte leaned in. “I see Mama’s suggestion
to smear your thumb with sour milk didn’t work.”

Alison shook her head. “It only cured me of
drinking milk. No, it seems I’m forever flawed. I don’t think I
will ever break the worst of my habits.”

“
Try again. As Mama always
says”—her eyebrow rose in imitation of Mother’s haughty
expression—”’you must eternally struggle to overcome your
unladylike qualities, if you are to marry well, my
girls.’”

With all the unladylike qualities
Alison possessed, it
would
be an eternal struggle.

Alison sighed, gazing toward Mr. Foster who.
“Mama wouldn’t consider my choice ‘marrying well.’“

Charlotte placed her petite hand on Alison’s
forearm. “Of course she would. If Lord Warsben dies, Mr. Foster
will be heir presumptive to a duke.”

“
And if not, he is merely a
gentleman. The son of a knight with little fortune to speak
of.”

“
Mama loves him. We all do. He’s
interesting.”

“Even if Mama approved, I have no
idea how I would turn his eye.” If only her friend, Valera, would
arrive. Vallie would certainly know what to do. “I have never
seen
anyone
distract him from his experiments and calculations. In fact,
in the past six years, I’ve seldom heard him speak of anything
other than science.”

She peeked across the library from the corner
of her eye. Papa said something and Mr. Foster smirked, a rarely
seen crooked smile that made her heart race, and her insides
pulled, as if trying to force her in his direction.

“The only time
you
aren’t talking about science is
when we have visitors. Even then it’s only because Mama won’t allow
it.” Charlotte grinned and her dimple peeked out of hiding. “That,
my dear sister, is why you appreciate him so.”

Holding her thumb in her fist,
Alison turned away from the thick eyebrows and piercing brown eyes
that drew her in. She had to admit it; his love of science
was
what appealed to her
most. For the most part, because science appealed to
her
most too. Science
made sense. Using science and intellect, one could closely predict
an outcome. With people, one could never be certain. It was as if
their emotions and opinions changed with the tide.