The Heart of a Duke (49 page)

“
A birthday gift?”

“
No…” She dragged out the word.
“It’s simply something…she had no use for any longer.”

He nodded. “I understand. She has begun
sorting her possessions, deciding what to take with her to her new
home when she marries.”

“
You could say that. She…felt I
might have occasion to wear the pendant.”

“
It is a quaint old piece.” He had
no interest in the necklace, but wanted to draw her out more.
Discover just who this minx really was.

“
I’m hoping the luck increases the
more I wear it.” Her fork dropped with a clatter and her fingertips
slapped over her mouth as her eyes grew round. She tore her gaze
from his and fidgeted with her napkin in her lap.

Had she given away some secret? The necklace
was a good luck charm, perhaps, given to her by her sister, who
recently became engaged to marry. How very interesting. He
shouldn’t pursue the matter, regardless of how it intrigued him.
The chit was obviously embarrassed to have admitted she was relying
on a pendant to help her find a husband. That might not be what the
luck involved, but the fact her engaged sister no longer needed it
made him think it was so.

Langley couldn’t bring himself to question her
further in front of all these people, so he let it drop. But later,
instead of escaping to the billiard room, he would seek her
out.

Charlotte’s appetite vanished. She’d almost
blurted out the truth, that she hoped the necklace won her a
lifetime of love. Saying so was the surest way to keep it from
coming true; he’d never consider someone so flighty. She was
foolish to think it could happen. No piece of jewelry could grant
true love upon the wearer.

She had a horrid feeling the arrangement she’d
made with the duke would only prove to torture her over the next
few days. She had no fear of a sudden change in her affections
toward him, but watching him flirt with the other girls would only
make it more obvious that no one sought to flirt with
her.

Taking a sip of her wine, she debated her own
skills at making a man fall in love with her. She would need to
relax and be herself, something she only felt comfortable doing
when surrounded by her old friends. Now that they were all married,
she felt so alone. She should do as she told Langley and use the
time to feel at ease in a roomful of strangers.

And she would keep her promise to help him
make conversation with the other young ladies. She must make
certain he married one of them, or be trapped herself. She glanced
at each of the young ladies around the table whom she could see
without straining. Langley didn’t seem terribly interested in Miss
Fielding, but perhaps one of the Martin sisters might catch his
eye.

After the last course had been consumed, the
duchess rose from her seat at the head of the dining table.
“Ladies, shall we leave the men to their cigars?”

The other ladies followed her into the drawing
room a few doors down the hall. Their chatter bounced off the
gilt-trimmed walls and high ceiling. Charlotte sought out Mama, who
sat with the duchess near the fire.

Mama motioned for her to sit on the settee
with her. “You must tell us what Langley had to say that kept you
from returning with the others this afternoon.”

The room quickly became too warm, the air too
close. It was one thing to tell her mother what they said, but
admit to the duchess they’d discussed marriage? There’d be no
backing away from an engagement if she did. “The duke offered me
tips on playing Pall Mall. He could see I was in need of
assistance.”

The two older women glanced at each other
before pinning Charlotte in place with their gazes. She felt like
an insect under glass. The duchess even held up her quizzing glass
as she commented. “Langley must have gone into the entire history
of the sport, since you’d put away your mallets and
balls.”

“
He was, ah, very thorough and
wanted to be certain I understood.”

“
And this…understanding between
you concerned the sport, and nothing more?” The elegant woman
exchanged a wise, motherly glance with Charlotte’s
mother.

Charlotte chewed her lip. If she lied
outright, she’d giggle. She’d never outgrown the nervous habit. “I
wouldn’t call it an understanding.” It took every ounce of
concentration not to squirm in her seat.

The duchess leaned back, a slight smile
softening the lines between her eyebrows. “I see. My son is a very
proud man, you know, but I don’t believe that to be a fault. He was
greatly disappointed to learn the betrothal his father had arranged
was not to be.”

Charlotte tried to recall if there had been
anything in his manner that suggested disappointment. Annoyance was
the word she’d choose. Like discovering his favorite tailor had
removed to the Continent. Or his favorite solicitor had eloped with
his fiancée. “Was he fond of Lady Eleanore?”

Mama pinched Charlotte’s arm. “I taught you
better than that.”

Looking down at her hands clasped in her lap,
Charlotte almost whispered. “Forgive me, Duchess.”

The duchess leaned closer. “It’s a natural
question. One I’m certain all young ladies wish to ask at some
point before they marry. I don’t know the answer to that, I’m
afraid. If it’s important to you, I suggest you ask him yourself if
the occasion arises.”

Charlotte raised her head. The duchess
undoubtedly knew at least the gist of the conversation Charlotte
and Langley had. Would she be shocked to know Charlotte had turned
him down?

That hadn’t been a real proposal. It rang of a
business deal, to shake hands over and break out the brandy and
cigars. She shuddered. She didn’t care for brandy one bit, much
less cigars.

Langley’s voice carried over the chatter
around her. He crossed the room casually, stopping to exchange a
word or two with each grouping of guests. He appeared much more the
relaxed host she would expect of the man she’d spoken to this
afternoon.

He eventually reached Charlotte’s party and
she realized she’d been staring. She quickly turned her attention
to the buttons on her gloves.

“
You ladies don’t find the fire
too warm, sitting this close? The evening air is still rather
pleasant.” Langley stood near Charlotte but looked at his mother
when he spoke.

“
I appreciate the warmth,” the
duchess said. “But why don’t you escort Lady Charlotte onto the
balcony? I see some of the other young people are out
there.”

“
Splendid idea.” Langley held out
his hand to Charlotte. “Will you walk with me?”

“
Of course.” She hadn’t brought
her shawl when she’d come down for supper, so she hoped the air
wasn’t too cold. She took Langley’s arm. Heads turned to watch the
duke cross the room, as usual, and she heard whispers in their
wake. The gossips would have them posting the banns before the
evening was out.

“
I believe this is where I should
engage you in small talk,” he began when they stepped through the
open French doors onto the rather large balcony. It was actually
the roof of the rooms below, lit by torches placed evenly around
the wrought iron railing. A dozen or so of the guests stood in
conversation, their voices low.

“
If you wish to learn to speak
with the other young ladies, that would be the best way to do
so.”

“
I wish to know one lady better.”
He led her to the corner of the rail, leaning back on it to face
her.

Her heart fluttered at the same time her
stomach knotted. Was he speaking of her, or some other girl? Reason
told her he’d never say such a thing to her if he spoke of another,
but she could hope. Best play her part as tutor. “You could ask her
if she enjoys poetry, or drawing.”

“
But I know nothing about either
of those.” Propped as he was, he was almost eye-to-eye with her and
his cologne wafted to her on the breeze.

The subtle scent made her think of walks in
the woods after the fog lifted, and was only noticeable when she
stood this close. Such an intimate, ephemeral sensation. His dark
hair glistened in the torchlight. Was it as soft as it looked? She
tore her thoughts away from his hair. “You don’t need to know
anything on the subject. You may ask questions of her and let her
carry the conversation. Many young ladies enjoy speaking of
themselves.”

“
Not you, though. You have the
knack of turning the topic away from anything too personal or
revealing.”

It was difficult to smile with trembling lips.
Almost as difficult as it was to stand so close to him and not
notice how handsome he was, and how his soft, deep voice could lull
her into a daze. Charlotte leaned away from him. “We aren’t
discussing me, we’re speaking of the girls you wish to
court.”

“
See there? You did it again.
However, I’ll play along. Lady Charlotte, do you enjoy
poetry?”

“
Now, wasn’t that
simple?”

“
But you haven’t answered.” He
folded his arms across his chest. “How can I learn to carry on a
conversation if you won’t continue it?”

“
Forgive me, sir. I do enjoy some
forms of poetry.” A breeze stirred, cooling her heated skin. She
prayed she was not bright red. No man should make her so
nervous.

“
Only some? Perhaps Byron. ‘And
all that's best of dark and bright/Meet in her aspect and her
eyes…’ Or Shakespeare, ‘I was content thy servant to remain/But not
to be paid under this fashion.’”

He was obviously more well-versed in poetry
than he admitted. He likely chose love poems to unnerve her, and it
was working well. “Of course, those are two of the more popular
poets. I brought a book of Shakespeare’s sonnets with me. I enjoy
reading them before I fall asleep.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I had you pegged
correctly, then. I’ve heard you have been caught in your host’s
library on more than one occasion during the Season.”

“
Who said such a thing?” Charlotte
gasped. “I’ve never had an assignation, in a library or anywhere
else.”

He glanced about the balcony, his lips turning
up at the corners. “You might wish to keep your voice down. I
wasn’t suggesting any such thing. I merely meant you appear to
enjoy books more than dancing.”

If she could have crawled behind a potted
Cyprus, she would have. “Oh. Perhaps you could work on your
phrasing. Consider whether it could be misconstrued as reflecting
poorly on a lady’s character.”

He breathed out sharply. “May we set aside the
lessons and just converse, Lady Charlotte?”

Her chest tightened and she couldn’t draw in a
breath. What did she have to talk about with the duke? “If you
prefer.”

“
You enjoy reading, don’t
you?”

“
Yes, sir, it’s my favorite way to
pass time.” Already, some of the stiffness was leaving her limbs.
Perhaps she could become accustomed to this.

His smile relaxed. “I do, too. You are welcome
to choose a book from my library while you are here. If you can
find a spare moment from the activities my mother has planned, that
is.” Glancing at his watch, he added, “This is normally the part of
the evening I spend reading, myself.”

Charlotte laughed. “Do you have to hide from
your mother to do so, too? I sometimes have to slip away to my
favorite spot when we’re at home, so she won’t make me practice on
the pianoforte.”

“
Do you sing? You must perform for
us at the musicale the duchess has scheduled.”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t! I am
terrified to sing in front of such a large group. I prefer to play
while someone else sings.”

“
Well, I won’t force you to, if it
makes you uncomfortable. But I would enjoy hearing you play. I
shall turn the pages for you, if you like.”

The very idea made her want to laugh. The Duke
of Langley turning the pages for her while she played the
pianoforte. Her friends would never believe it. “You are not how I
made you out,” she blurted, and then chewed on her lip.

His eyebrow rose again as his grin widened.
“Oh? And how did you discern my character? Was it based on stories
Lady Eleanore told?”