The Heart of a Duke (39 page)

Now she would have to accept one on her
birthday, no matter what. Still, it might be Mr. Foster. She
shouldn’t believe in such silliness . . . but her friends had all
married. Oh, perhaps not to dukes, as the gypsy had promised, but
they’d still all found delightful men to love.

“
Well, thank goodness you haven’t
fallen prey to Langley’s charm.” Vallie snorted at her own
joke.

Alison bit her lip to avoid
admitting that she
was
considering the Duke of Langley. She had no choice. Mama had
invited him, which meant he had expressed interest in marrying her,
and he was an influential man. If she didn’t choose him, Papa
would. After all, her maid had informed her that the only other
eligible bachelor invited was an elderly baron. Papa and Mama
couldn’t have made her choice plainer than if they had arranged her
marriage.

Vallie took Alison’s hands. “You look lovely.
Any man would be happy to have you. Why, I bet they will be
fighting to spend time with you.”

Alison’s gaze returned to the pendant, as if
drawn to it. “You always did know what to say to make me feel
better.”

“
Come now. Charlotte said the cook
has been working on dinner most of the day. I’ll bet it will be
spectacular. Let’s see what excitement dinner will
bring.”

Alison let out a nervous giggle, dragging her
eyes from the pendant, as Vallie linked arms with her and together
they walked down the long corridor.

A moment later, Alison sat at the
full table two seats down from Vallie, whose new husband, the Earl
of Ravenswood, was positioned across from her. The two couldn’t
take their eyes from one another. Alison grinned, using her napkin
to cover the expression. Seeing them together was bitter sweet. Her
friend was in high spirits, and Alison was glad to see it, but
along with it came the acute knowledge that the one man who
made
her
feel as
blissful as Vallie looked would never belong to her.

Alison pushed the trout around her plate and
peeked past the deep frown and dark curls of the Duke of Langley,
then returned her gaze to him. In a surprising break with
tradition, instead of placing the high-ranking duke next to Papa,
Mama had placed him beside Alison. After seating him, Mama had
personally escorted an elderly and quite deaf baron to the other
seat beside Alison. She should speak with the duke, but her gaze
kept moving past him and down the table to the disheveled hair and
stubble-covered cheeks of a certain man. Mr. Foster had almost
caught her looking once, but she’d shifted her gaze to the duke and
pretended to be deep in conversation.

She fought a sigh. “Did you enjoy your trip
through the countryside, Your Grace?”

He peered over at her and she burst out with a
too-loud giggle, uncomfortable with the directness of his gaze. His
shoulders stiffened in a haughty manner. She lifted her napkin
again. Why had she even tried to speak with anyone? She should have
taken to her bed with a headache or feminine complaints. Surely
those would work, even during this particular gathering.

He arched an eyebrow. “The carriage was
uncomfortable and the trip too long.”

“
Oh.” Alison glanced down the
table to find Jonathan’s gaze on her, he held his fork perfectly
still now, his stare intent. A voice in her head screamed that she
was doing something she shouldn’t—speaking with another man when
her heart knew what it wanted. Heat flushed her skin, and she
glanced at her father, who smiled and didn’t appear perturbed by
her outburst in the least. In fact, it was almost the opposite.
Obviously, it pleased Papa to see her talking to the duke, even if
she wasn’t being entirely proper. She turned back to the duke. “I’m
sorry to hear that.”

“
Yes, well . . .” A moment of
stiff silence passed between them, which seemed to last an
eternity, then he glanced toward the end of the table where Valera
sat. “Er, you have vast grounds here. The gardens are rather
attractively landscaped.”

During the long and drawn out
conversation in which she tried to find common ground with the
almost
too
handsome, far too perfect, and somewhat arrogant duke, she
found her eyes defying her to gaze down the table at Mr. Foster
again and again. His rather intense discussion with Papa must
certainly be about science. Alison wondered what study he might be
contemplating. Electricity? Magnetic force? Perhaps the effects of
various gasses upon the body? And
she
was discussing
geography.

As the footmen cleared the last course, Mama
sent the party to the music room. Alison excused herself from the
duke, who seemed almost as relieved as she to be done with the
awkward conversation, which had never seemed to smooth itself out.
She followed the group with her head down and her gaze on the
pendant.

Then she ran into a wall. “Oof, oh me, I’m
sorry.”

Mr. Foster faced her, a paper clutched in his
hand. He cleared his throat and smoothed his rumpled cravat. “Oh,
forgive me Lady Alison. I was engrossed in my
calculations.”

She shouldn’t ask about his work.
Then again, perhaps a short conversation wouldn’t be
entirely
inappropriate.
“What are you working on? Erm, not that I completely understand all
the things you talk about, when it comes to scientific
study.”

“
Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve seen
the way your eyes light up with understanding when I speak of my
experiments.” His gaze met hers and pleasant tingles spread over
her chest and arms. “You’re not like the others who view me as an
interesting eccentric. You really listen and understand my
theories.”

Her face went warm and she brought a finger up
to her lips, but couldn’t stop herself from saying, “I do enjoy
thinking of the world in a certain way, and you help me see things
anew.”

“
Yes, science has that ability.
Why, until recently, I’ve been studying the energy creating effects
of friction to create a safe lamp for men in environments prone to
explosion. I still believe it can be harnessed and enhanced.” His
smile warmed and he held a hand toward the music room down the
corridor, where most of the stragglers were moving inside. As they
walked, he said, “Perhaps then I can find myself a wife, assured I
can offer her more than two hands and a strong back.”

Her heart fluttered at the
word
wife
, as if
by simply hearing the word, she could somehow influence him to
find
her
for a
wife. Or had he already chosen someone else? “You’ve chosen a bride
then?”

“
Oh.” His ears reddened a little
in a way she’d never seen before. “Oh no. Not until I’ve
distinguished myself in some grand way.”

“
You’ve done great things.” She
smiled, excitement flooding through her, and she could feel her
movements becoming more frantic, but she couldn’t stop them. “Why,
I still recall when you recreated the voltaic pile to show us how
it creates electricity, you’ve demonstrated how magnets could be
used to attract and repel, and you’ve performed so many other
fascinating scientific demonstrations during your visits. How could
you believe you haven’t done anything grand?”

She wanted to tell him how much she enjoyed
his company, but instead she held her breath, afraid to break the
spell by releasing it.

“
Imitation is not greatness.” His
smile faded and he slowed his step. “Most experiments I’ve
attempted have failed.”

“
I’d imagine that is the case with
most scientists. Science is a slow process, otherwise we would
already know everything.”

“
You have a point.”

“
Besides, failure leads to
success, and I know you’ve had successes.”

“
Yes, but the ones which did work,
that damn . . . “ He cleared his throat. “Davy has discovered
first.”

“
Oh, you mean Humphry Davy. I’d
heard he used a voltaic pile, a few wires, and a bit of charcoal to
create an electric lamp.”

“
Yes. I was experimenting with
similar items.” His frown deepened. “It seems our minds work
similarly. We both studied the effects of nitrous oxide at the
beginning of the century, but he published his findings before I
did.”

Alison fought to keep her jaw closed, but
couldn’t. “Dalton’s Law! He stole your work?”

At her exclamation, he chuckled,
his features smoothing a bit. “No. He just seems to be one step
ahead of me at all times. I begin researching electrical properties
and how they might be used to create light, and
he
successfully researches and tests
it before I’ve completed my research. The man is a curse on my
head. And until I am able to be successful inventing or discovering
anything before he does, I don’t see how I can be worthy of”—he
eyed her for a moment—”I’m nothing until I’ve made myself
something.”

“
Not so,” she said as they reached
the music room door. “You’re something as soon as you see yourself
as something.”

Chapter Three

Jonathan gaped at Lady Alison as she walked
through the doorway as if she hadn’t said anything unusual. She
couldn’t possibly be serious. Women, all women, wanted a powerful
husband. She couldn’t believe that simply trying would be enough,
that being intelligent was the same thing as being a leader. She’d
proven it wasn’t true by hanging on the Duke of Langley’s every
word throughout the meal. Each time he’d stolen a glance in her
direction, she’d been staring at Langley. He clenched his fists,
trying not to recall how many times he’d turned to see her speaking
to the man, their heads together.

Still, she might say a man was something when
he thought he was something, but clearly she was interested in the
most powerful man in the room. Why would she settle for less than
the best?

He held out a hand to a set of
chairs.

“
Thank you, Mr.
Foster.”

“
Please, call me Jonathan.” He
kept his voice low. It probably would be more appropriate for her
to continue calling him Mr. Foster, but he had the irrational need
to hear his name on her lips.

“
Thank you, Jonathan.” Her cheeks
turned a lovely shade of pink. “Then you must call me
Alison.”

“
I would like that,” he said as
Lady Charlotte stood before them all.

Langley glanced at Alison and Jonathan found
himself, for the second time in one day, in the odd position of
wanting to pummel a man he barely knew. Instead, he widened his
shoulders and sat. He’d been planning to continue his research this
evening, but he’d be damned if he would allow Langley to sit beside
her and whisper flatteries into her ear the entire
evening.

“
Do you sing or play?” he asked,
though he’d never heard her do either in the years he’d been
visiting with her family.

“
Dalton’s law!” she said, then her
cheeks turned rosier and her dimple deepened as her expression
settled somewhere between a wince and a smile. “I, uh, no, I never
had those sorts of talents or interests. I was always more
interested in . . .”

She glanced away toward where her sister stood
near the sunlit window, pretending to be watching her sister sing,
but he could see her attention wasn’t on the music. Her shoulders
were tense and her smile had frozen.

“
Science? Books?” he asked. “You
seem the type. I’d be willing to wager you’ve read nearly every
book in the library. What is your favorite?”

The tightness in her muscles dissipated. “I
love to read the scientific digests my father receives. They have
so much information and ponderous thought on the properties of the
world around us.”

“
Yes, they are rather
educational.” He grinned at her comment, which seemed to come more
from nerves than anything else. “I must admit, however, I find
myself interested in fantastical stories, such as Captain Gulliver
and his adventures.”

“
Do you truly?” She shifted in her
seat, almost face to face with him, and her hands moved wildly as
she spoke in none too soft tones. “I loved that book since I was a
girl. The adventures he had were astounding. I used to dream of . .
.” She pressed a hand to the pendant that hung between the round,
white skin of her breasts. His loins tightened, and he forced his
eyes back to her face. He could almost see her rethinking her
words. “It was highly unrealistic, but enjoyable.”

He smiled. She was very similar to him, and
nothing whatever like the Duke of Langley. He doubted the uptight
duke had ever read the story, let alone appreciated it. The man
would never truly appreciate the unique value of Lady Alison
either.

Jonathan couldn’t fight his frown.
If only he could do something to prove
he
was worthy of her, then perhaps
he could ask her to choose him over such an important peer of the
realm. He’d been working hard to do just that for years now, but
he’d never been so close.

She cleared her throat. “Well, I mean to say,
I found them enjoyable as a girl.”

“
As a boy, I believe, my love of
science came from imagining what might hide within the world around
me—what things hid behind the mundane.”