The Heart of a Duke (53 page)

His stomach sank, and began to burn. “She
mentioned Miss Martin, did she?” He shoved his hair off his
forehead and strode to the window. Lady Charlotte must have come
across them at exactly the wrong moment.

“
Was there something to mention?”
Brooky’s tone implied his suspicions.

“
Possibly. That hoyden is
determined to get her claws in me. She embraced me when I came
across her in the maze.”

“
I take it that hoyden is Miss
Martin. Is there a chance Lady Charlotte saw
this…embrace?”

Langley gripped the windowsill to keep from
tossing furniture to ease the anger boiling within him. “She must
have. And probably assumed it was my doing. She seems to have a low
opinion of me.”

“
A low opinion, eh? Perhaps she’s
heard tales of your exploits? You cannot deny there are a
few.”

“
But who would speak of such
things to a lady?” He forked his fingers through his hair. “Why
would anyone even care with whom I’ve had a dalliance, so long as
innocents are not involved?”

“
Women talk, and the higher the
rank of the man in discussion, the more they want to know.” Brooky
sank his shot, the clatter of wooden balls ringing out followed by
the clunk of one finding a pocket.

“
I should send for her, tell her
the truth of what happened.” The simplest thing to do would be to
accept that Lady Charlotte had no desire to marry him, even before
this misunderstanding. Yet that felt like the lazy way out. A
lesser man might choose that path, but he needed to make this
right.

“
Would she believe it?” Balls
clattered, then Brooky continued. “And why do you care what she
thinks of you, beyond having her feelings injured? She would
recover from an infatuation quickly enough if you left her alone
and chose another as your wife.”

Langley spoke as the realization hit him. “I
don’t want her thinking ill of me, whether she marries me or not. I
don’t know why, but it matters.”

“
Have you formed an attachment to
her? I wouldn’t have thought it possible. Wonder of wonders, the
duke has a heart.”

“
Of course I do,” Langley bit out.
Why was everyone so eager to think the worst of him? Had his
actions over the years led to this? “Everyone has one.”

“
But not everyone chooses to offer
theirs to another.”

“
Offer her my heart? Is that what
she’s waiting for? I offered my name, my home, my life. Doesn’t she
understand my heart goes with it?” Women, young ladies in
particular, were the hardest creatures to fathom. A man offered
everything he possessed, and it wasn’t enough.

“
How can she, when it seems you
were unaware of the matter until just recently?”

Was that the key? He knew her ploy of teaching
him to speak to the other ladies was a ruse, but he hadn’t really
expected Lady Charlotte to fall in love with him as they chatted.
He’d believed somehow she would approach it analytically, as he
did. Discover the aspects of his life, his personality, which
melded with what she wanted from marriage, and see how well they
suited.

Was he capable of loving her? As much as any
other man.

He considered the other girls present and he
realized his error in judgment. Lady Charlotte was the only one
here who wished to know him better. Who wished to see the real man
behind the title. Only with her would he have a chance for love to
grow from their marriage. That knowledge made him more suited to
her than any other man.

“
How do I fix this?” While he
spoke the words aloud, he didn’t expect Brooky to answer. He had to
speak to Lady Charlotte regardless of the outcome of their
conversation. He needed to know if he was the cause of her distress
and determine the remedy for it. Turning to Brooky, he said, “If
you’ll excuse me, I must tend to this.”

On the way to his study, he spotted a footman
and requested Lady Charlotte be asked to join him. He was tempted
to pour himself a whiskey while he waited, but was oddly concerned
what she might think of his need for a drink to speak with
her.

He was fully aware of how their mothers might
construe his request of an audience with her, but no longer cared.
There was only one opinion that mattered to him. He was determined
to get an answer from her, one way or the other, before they left
his study. If she said no, he would pursue her no
longer.

The weight of that thought pressed down on
him.

The footsteps in the hallway were too heavy to
be Lady Charlotte’s, and with only one pair of heels ringing out,
he knew before the footman arrived what Lady Charlotte’s answer had
been.

“
Your Grace, Lady Charlotte
declines your kind offer of an audience.”

Swallowing his terse reply, he tempered his
voice before he could bite off the servant’s head. “Did she say
anything else?”

“
No, sir.”

“
Very well. You’re
dismissed.”

The young man bowed and hurried from the
room.

Suddenly feeling like a wrung-out cloth,
Langley sank into the leather chair behind his desk, lowering his
head in his hands. What had he done? With one act not of his own
doing, he’d lost the one chance for happiness. Certainly he could
marry any of the ladies present and have a satisfactory life, raise
his heir and a few more children to be happy, considerate members
of Society. Yet he couldn’t imagine spending his life with any of
them.

He knew he was coming awfully close to
behaving like Aesop’s fox, but this had to be more than a passing
fancy. Lady Charlotte’s unwillingness to speak with him struck him
more deeply than Lady Eleanore’s elopement. Lady Eleanore’s
decision was based on her love for another man, he assumed, and not
any act of Langley’s. Lady Charlotte had rejected him twice now,
seemingly based on his actions, however misconstrued her
interpretation was.

Why had she turned down his offer of marriage
in the first place? He didn’t accept her ruse of misunderstanding
his proposal. When pushed, she had avoided any definite answer,
instead offering to help him learn to speak to young
ladies.

Could it be as simple as that? Had she
expected a more histrionic declaration? If so, he was certainly not
the man for her. She expected the hero from her romances,
apparently. That was as far from Langley’s character as could be
imagined.

Jumping from his chair, he paced in front of
his bookcases, pulling down the type of book he thought might
interest her. One after another, he stacked them in his hands
before returning to his desk and pouring over the pages of each
one.

Somewhere among the words printed there had to
be the answer to Lady Charlotte’s expectations. If he could only
find the magic formula, he might express himself properly and allow
her to see exactly why he thought they suited.

A knock sounded at his door and he looked up
to see a footman awaiting permission to enter.

“
What is it, Jimmy?” Langley asked
brusquely.

“
Her Grace wishes to remind you
your presence is expected at supper.”

Langley glanced toward the windows, only now
noticing how thin the light had grown. “You may assure her I will
be on time.”

Snapping the novel closed, he set it on the
stack with the others, none of which had revealed their magic to
him. He was left to his own devices.

Langley did not see Lady Charlotte at supper
that evening, or at any time the next day. He continued to play the
host, joining in begrudgingly in the activities his mother had
scheduled, his hopes fading that Lady Charlotte might
appear.

During one quiet moment Friday morning, he
found his mother alone in the morning room. He strode to where she
sat. “Good morning.”

“
Good morning dear boy. You are up
and about early. I would expect you to be riding at this hour, or
in your study.”

He nodded. “I am headed to my study but
noticed you here. Tell me, has Lady Charlotte gone home?” He’d seen
her mother about, and thought it odd the girl would leave without
her.

“
No, she is still
here.”

“
Has she been ill? She does not
join the others.”

His mother raised her quizzing glass at him.
“Lady Pinsley says she is suffering megrims.”

The urge to squirm like a young boy grew the
longer she held up that gold-framed lens. Langley tore his gaze
away. “Should the doctor be called? Has she been given any
powders?”

“
I had Mrs. Cook send her up a pot
of her special tea. I do expect Lady Charlotte will recover in time
to travel home on Sunday.”

Bowing stiffly, Langley took his leave of her,
returning abovestairs to his study. If Mother hadn’t sent for the
doctor, she likely knew the girl’s ills were not of the body, but
the spirit. Which meant Langley was the cause.

How could he apologize if he couldn’t speak to
her? Should he send her a note? He supposed that would have to do.
He wouldn’t mention any activity that might cause further distress,
simply telling her of his concerns for her well being, and his wish
for a quick recovery.

His own spirits feeling lighter, he pushed
open the door to his study, only to find the woman of his worries
sitting at his desk.

Chapter Seven

A cold draft passed over Charlotte and she
glanced up at the doorway. Seeing the duke there, she gasped and
jumped from her seat, dropping a book in her haste. “Forgive me,
Your Grace. I didn’t mean to pry.” Her eyes were ringed with pink,
but her cheeks were dry. She had the look of a man facing the
gallows.

Langley simply smiled. “How lovely to see you.
Shall I send for tea?”

“
No, thank you.”

“
Coffee, perhaps? Some toast?” He
remained in the doorway, one hand grasping the knob.

Charlotte moved away from his chair, her limbs
quaking. She should have expected to run into him here, of all
places. “Thank you, sir, but I require nothing. I simply sought
something to read. I will not trespass upon your time any
longer.”

He strode into the room and motioned to the
chair in front of his desk. “Please, don’t leave. I will find
whatever book you wish to read. Will you sit?”

Taking two steps toward the door, Charlotte
stopped when Langley blocked her way. She lifted her gaze to his,
knowing she owed him the chance to speak to her, but not wishing to
hear anything he had to say.

“
Please, Lady Charlotte.” His
voice was soft, low. Resigned. “Hear me out. Then I will send my
entire library to your chamber, should you wish to spend the rest
of your visit reading.”

She nodded and sat where he suggested. Her
gaze dropped to her lap, and her hands clutched together. Not
trusting her voice to work properly, she waited for him to
speak.

After rounding the desk, he picked up the
fallen book and set it atop the others before sitting. He cleared
his throat. “Is there something I have done that upset
you?”

She nodded.

“
Would you tell me what it
is?”

Her head shook side to side.

“
All right then, I shall guess.
Did it involve Miss Martin?”

Her shoulders trembled with the effort to keep
from bursting into tears. Drawing in a breath, she whispered,
“Yes.” She plucked at the ribbon tied around her waist.

“
I see. And I imagine it wouldn’t
change your opinion of me if I said I didn’t initiate that
embrace.”

His words inspired anger, rather than the
tears she expected. She pierced him with her gaze, her jaw tense.
“My opinion of you is much the same as before I arrived
here.”

He swallowed. “You thought so little of me,
yet you had no qualms about attending a party at Hawking
Hall?”

“
My mother wished to visit with
the duchess.” It was the truth, even if it avoided the fact a small
part of her still held hope he was the man of her dreams. A very
small part of her, which had withered the first day of her
visit.

“
You knew my mother wishes for me
to marry. She invited only those young ladies she felt suitable to
become my wife. You understood the purpose of your
invitation.”