The Heart of a Duke (44 page)

“
Does he know that?”

She nodded. “I’ve shown him in every way I
could, but it doesn’t matter. And now father insists I speak to the
duke, who is waiting for me in the clearing beyond the trees. Papa
made it clear I wasn’t to refuse him. This horrid pendant is to
blame.”

“
Oh Allie.” A soft frown curved
Valera’s lips. “I’m sorry.”

Alison almost jerked the pendant from her
throat, then her stomach dropped. “Wait. What if the pendant is the
reason I’ve had such wonderful conversations with Jonathan . . . I
mean, Mr. Foster? I’ve never been able to speak with him this way
before. What if I remove it and he doesn’t even look at me
again?”

Vallie laughed and took Alison’s
arm in hers. “You silly thing. The necklace didn’t do this, and you
don’t need it. You can give it to your sister safe in the knowledge
that
you
are the
reason he loves you. You finally allowed him to see the beautiful
person we’ve all seen, and now he is helpless to do anything but
love you as we do.”

She held the pendant in a shaking hand. Half
of her wanted to throw it and the other half wanted to clutch it in
a closed fist, because all of her wanted Jonathan. Yet she could
never truly trust in her heart, or his, until she rid herself of
it. She could never be worthy of him while she held on to the idea
of magic and superstition. She lifted it over her head. “Give this
to Charlotte for me. It is hers now.”

“
A fine idea.”

“
Whatever happens, I don’t need
the pendant. I’m about to see what my future will hold without
magic.” And possibly without science or love.

Valera smiled brightly and held out her hand,
gazing at the pendant as it fell into her palm, then she nodded.
“Yes, you are strong, brave, and beautiful enough. And perhaps, if
there is a little magic in this world, things might turn out well
after all. You’re brilliant and, when the time comes, I have no
doubt you will know exactly what to do.”

Could she dare to refuse him? She had never
defied her father intentionally before, so he might forgive her
this one time. She cringed. Probably not.

Alison nodded, moving toward the clearing
where the duke waited, either to win her hand . . . or
not.

The crowd parted to allow another pair to
spar. Disappointment washed over Jonathan when he saw Alison
engaged in intense conversation with the countess. He’d hoped to
speak with her. She always made the most interesting observations
when he surprised her. He wondered what she would think of his
fencing skill. It wasn’t precisely something that would distinguish
him in the world of science, but he was rather proud of his
abilities.

“
You did very well, Mr. Foster.”
Lady Charlotte offered a demure smile. “I wasn’t aware you could
fence.”

Jonathan lifted an eyebrow. Lady Charlotte,
much like her sister, was more often than not, a quiet wallflower.
She’d only spoken to him directly a handful of times in all the
years he’d visited her father’s estate. “Yes. I had some training
in school, and my fencing instructor took an interest in my natural
ability. He once said I was a menace without a sword, but with one,
I was a hero.”

In actual fact, his father had said the words.
His instructor had only said he had talent beyond the others he
taught—a comment which had enticed his father to insist he train
harder than any man alive, and possibly the dead ones
too.

“
Oh.” She glanced down at her
slippers, probably uncertain how to respond.

Jonathan decided to save her the embarrassment
of trying. “He spent a fair amount of his spare time tutoring me in
the finer points of the sport.”

“
And why did you choose science?”
She glanced toward where Alison stood with her friend, gripping the
pendant she’d worn every day of the party in a white knuckled grip.
He hoped nothing was wrong. “It is not an obvious choice. I would
have thought, with your father being a knight and having your skill
with a sword, you would enter into the army.”

“
I’ve never had much of a liking
for violence.” Except perhaps for the sharp desire he’d had to
thrash Langley a number of times during the party.

Alison walked away from the countess, eyes
downcast, and Charlotte faced him. “A practical decision, indeed.
I’ve often told Alison that she must have a sensible idea of her
life. Her talk of science and being able to read and study all
those ideas is a dream. She must be realistic, which is why I’m so
happy the Duke of Langley is offering for her.”

Jonathan gripped his makeshift sword as if it
were a rope on a storm-tossed ship, which from the way his body
reacted to her words, he might well have been. “Oh?”

“
Yes. Isn’t it lovely? She will be
a duchess.” Charlotte studied him. “He’s waiting in the clearing
beyond the sparring match right now. It will afford them a little
privacy. Isn’t that romantic?”

“
No.” Jonathan’s vision blurred
into a red haze. He’d allowed so much in life to be taken from him.
He’d allowed his father to take his pride and make him feel less of
a man for choosing science over the army. He’d allowed Humphry Davy
to take his spirit and make him believe he was not a scientist
unless he could outwit Davy. Now he was allowing the Duke of
Langley to steal the one woman who truly understood him. The one
woman who thought he was something, even when he’d been questioning
his own value.

Well, no more. This time he wouldn’t allow any
man or woman to take what he wanted. This time, he was going to
charge ahead and become the General his father had always wanted
him to be.

Chapter Nine

Alison trudged toward her fate. If she refused
the duke, it would mean a lifetime of spinsterhood. Yet even if
Jonathan finally felt himself worthy of her, how could she admit
what she’d done to make him care for her? And what would he think
of a silly woman who believed that a chunk of metal could hold sway
on the real world? He wanted a woman of science and logic and she’d
allowed herself to believe in the power of a pendant. Her mind was
weak.

Still, she loved him. With everything in her
soul and everything in her heart, she loved him.

As she neared the clearing, the sounds of the
fight fading into the background, strong hands grabbed her
shoulders. She cried out as they whirled her around.

“
Jonathan? What are you
doing?”

Her words faded away when she saw the fire in
his eyes. He was touching her in a way he’d never really touched
her before—not by accident. Her toes curled and she ran her tongue
over her lower lip. She watched his eyes move, as he concentrated
on the tip of her tongue.

Her body trembled as her skin tingled beneath
his fingers. “Did you . . . need anything?”

“
Yes. Yes, I definitely need . .
.” His jaw muscles jumped. “You have something of mine, and you
will not go off and marry the duke while you still possess
it.”

He crushed her to him, his mouth covering
hers, and the world narrowed to the space of two humans, two
beating hearts, two sets of lips. At first, his kiss was soft and
gentle, as she’d always suspected it would be. Yet the soft motion
of his lips sweeping over hers mesmerized her and her body became a
liquid. She melted against him, wanting to feel him, even if only
through the layers of their clothing.

He inhaled sharply, let out a soft growl, and
gathered her closer. His tongue prodded gently at her lower lips,
sliding along the tingling flesh and a thrill ran through her. Her
lips parted on a sigh and his tongue slipped in to explore the
newfound territory. He tasted of the spiced pudding they’d had for
breakfast and ever so slightly of ink, which seemed right in so
many ways. The taste of him, the feel of his hard chest beneath her
hands, and his singular scent made her dizzy. She ran her hands up
his shoulders to cling to his neck. He softened the kiss, then ran
his lips in a gentle graze along her cheek, stopping with his cheek
pressed to hers. For a moment, he just stayed there and she turned
her nose into his neck, inhaling his scent and enfolding herself in
him with every sense she possessed, as if somehow she could become
a part of him by sheer will.

“
I’ve dreamed of this moment so
many times.” Her breath hadn’t yet returned so her words were a
whisper. “Of you taking me in your arms and kissing me.”

“
Me too.” His words were a harsh
gasp that made her insides squeeze tight.

She did affect him as strongly as he affected
her. Her heart lurched. “Have you truly?”

Her breath refused to leave her chest,
awaiting his reply.

Though his muscles resisted every bit of air
that moved between them, he pulled back to look down into her eyes,
his palms rubbing over her upper arms. “Don’t you realize what
you’ve done to me?”

Her brow furrowed. “Have I done anything
wrong?”

“
Yes, you’ve stolen my soul.
You’ve transformed me. I’ve always known you were special. There is
a chemical reaction when we come together—a change in both of us
that is palpable.”

“
I feel it too. It sends shivers
across my skin and makes my insides melt.”

His body tightened at her admission, but he
fought away his desire. He had to convince her to choose him. “It
is something the duke can never give you. It’s something only we
can have together.”

Her eyes surveyed his chest, as if she
searched for something written across the fabric. “It is an
inexplicable explosion of light. A thousand invisible fireflies
floating through the ether.”

He smiled. “I couldn’t have put it
better.”

“
What about your inventions? I
thought you wanted to wait until you invented something
great.”

“
Someone brilliant once told me I
was someone when I thought I was someone.” He moved his hands down
her arms, taking her fingers in his. “Well, I feel like someone
when I’m with you, and even if I don’t succeed in inventing or
discovering anything original, as long as I have you, I’ll know I
must be special.”

Her eyes shone and she pressed a hand to her
lips.

“
And if you will have me, I shall
spend every moment of my life letting you know how special you
are.”

“
I want desperately to say yes.”
Her fingers trembled. “But I don’t think I can.”

Jonathan let his head fall forward, his
muscles tightening as his chest constricted and the
all-too-familiar fire began to rage inside him. “Because of your
father? Or the duke?”

“
It has nothing to do with either
of them.”

“
What other reason could there be
for your refusal?” Refusal, such an ugly word.

“
I have to tell you everything. I
can’t allow you to marry me without knowing the truth.” She stepped
back, pulling from his grip. “Because I’m not the woman you think I
am.”

He ran his thumbs over his fingers, missing
the feel of her beneath them. “What do you mean? How could you
possibly think I don’t know who you are?”

She held her breath for a moment, then
released it with a whoosh. “I’ve been pretending to be something
I’m not. I’m not a woman of science.”