The Heart of a Duke (32 page)

Aldora gave no outward indication that she was
affected by the mementos of sadness falling from the sky. She
tugged her cloak closer to herself. “Your brother will return
soon.”

Funny, he’d not taken her as one to
prevaricate.

“
It’s not as you
think.”

Her quiet statement snapped him back to
attention.

He arched a brow expectantly.

Lady Aldora lifted one shoulder in a tiny
shrug. “You believe me driven by the quest for a title and wealth,
but…” She studied the tip of her foot as she drew a circle on the
damp grass. Then she stopped abruptly and looked back up at him.
“Things are not always as they seem.”

He scoffed. Michael knew exactly how things
were. Aldora would have never have even deigned to speak to him in
the park that first meeting if she’d known his true identity. She’d
already set her sights on a marquess. The scandalous younger
brother who dirtied his hands with trade would never do for a lady
of her status.

Clearly following his unspoken recriminations,
she frowned. “You presume to judge me and yet have I passed
judgment on you for your past? The gossips have spoken about you
and the scandal surrounding a young lord’s death. They call you a
murderer.”

Michael settled his face into an
expressionless mask, not wanting her to see how her honest words
ravaged his already guilt-flayed mind. Michael would forever carry
with him guilt over Lord Everworth’s death. It had been the last
time Michael had picked up a pistol.

“
You may stand there aloof, acting
unaffected, but I believe you care a great deal about what
happened.” She glanced away. “Here comes the marquess.”

Michael followed her gaze. St. James was
nearly bounding across the grass to get to them. He clenched his
teeth. No, St. James was rushing to reach Aldora. He balled his
hands into tight fists at his side, besieged by an unholy desire to
punch him in his affable face. Michael reminded himself that it was
hardly St. James’s fault that he was the better brother, and the
best match for Aldora. It didn’t help. Michael still wanted to hit
him.

St. James stopped beside them, nearly out of
breath from his exertions. He bowed. “I’m so sorry to have left
you, my lady. I’m glad that my brother was here to watch after you
while I was gone.” He nodded to Michael.

Michael gave a curt nod and rescued the reins
of his horse. He flung his leg over and adjusted his feet in the
stirrups. Without another word, he kicked his horse into a gallop
and left Lady Aldora and St. James—alone.

Chapter Six

Aldora sat on the window seat, staring out as
the wind whipped raindrops noisily against the windowpanes. She
pulled her knees close to her chest and dropped her chin atop
them.

St. James had returned her more than seven
hours ago. He’d been gentlemanly and apologetic, and profuse in his
compliments of her. He was the pinnacle of her hopes for her
sisters Anne and Katherine, and her young brother Benedict. For two
years she had lived with a cloying fear over her family’s dire
economic circumstances. More than that, she’d lived with an
inevitable sense of dread that at any moment, the stranger who
possessed her father’s vowels would grow impatient and eventually
demand his entire amount in full.

Michael’s accusations that morning had stung.
They still stung because of the truth in his words. Aldora did seek
a powerful, respectable title. It just happened to be for reasons
other than Michael understood.

Standing amidst the empty park, she had been
so very tempted to confide in him the truth. She’d longed to
release some of the burden she’d borne for the past three years.
The marquess’s appearance had prevented her from saying anything
more to Michael.

“
You don’t look ill.”

Her head snapped up at the unexpected
intrusion.

Katherine, the younger of her twin sisters,
stood in the doorway, arms akimbo.

Aldora coughed half-heartedly into her
hand.

Cat-like eyes narrowed. Her sister entered the
room, then closed the door behind her with a decisive
click.

“
What…?”

“
You don’t look sick. You look
sad. Horribly sad. Rather like someone who had a fabulous ice from
Gunther’s and was just about to bite into it when someone came by
and slapped the delicious treat from your fingers and
it—”

Aldora laughed, waving at her sister to stop.
“You’ve been quite clear. No need to go on. Where are Anne and
Benedict?”

Katherine rushed over and plopped down onto
the window seat beside Aldora. “Benedict is begging Cook for a
cherry tart. Anne is reading one of your Gothic novels.” She rolled
her eyes, the telltale gesture indicating just what she thought of
Aldora’s reading preferences. She peered out the window, her brow
furrowed. “I can’t imagine that staring out into this dreary
evening will help matters.”

No, it hadn’t. She claimed Katherine’s hand
and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“
You didn’t want to go out this
evening,” Katherine said.

Aldora shook her head. “No, I didn’t,
sweet.”

Her sister made a non-committal
sound.

She didn’t care to speak on any of it this
evening. Mother had gone off to attend Lady Williston’s ball, and
Aldora relished the opportunity to be alone with her troubled
thoughts. Her hand tightened around Katherine’s. Any other time she
would relish a visit with Katherine, her far more serious, less
self-centered sister.

“
Mother believes the Marquess of
St. James will offer for you.”

Aldora’s shoulders stiffened.

“
That is not the reaction of a
delighted young lady,” Katherine observed in a tone too dry for her
young years.

“Mother
hopes
the marquess will offer for
me,” Aldora said.

Katherine inched closer to her and
snagged one of Aldora’s loose curls. She gave it a tug. “What
do
you
hope for,
silly?”

Michael’s virulent frame flashed through her
mind. She looked down and made the mistake of glancing at
Katherine’s re-stitched gown. Aldora swallowed hard at the material
reminder of those who depended on her. “Why, of course I hope he’ll
offer for me.”

Katherine snorted. “That’s not convincing,
either.”

Aldora forced a smile. She couldn’t explain to
Katherine just why she didn’t want to marry the marquess. She could
not share the impending doom that hung over their family with the
younger girl. “He’d be a very suitable husband.”

Katherine tugged her hand free. “Bahh, horses
and hounds are suitable. Do you love him?”

Aldora’s neck turned hot. Ladies did not have
the luxury of marrying for love. Most especially not
her.

“
It does matter,” Katherine
insisted, correctly having read Aldora’s unspoken thoughts. She
settled her palm on Aldora’s cheek, and looked at her. The
expressive pale blue eyes were years beyond the girls’ fifteen
years. “You do not have to marry to save us. Come, Aldora, do not
insult me by thinking I could be so oblivious to our situation,”
she said when Aldora’s mouth fell agape. “Of course we know the
state Father left us in.” She gestured to the heavily patched sofa
cushions. “Do you think we didn’t notice that which is directly in
front of us?”

Aldora closed her eyes. Here she’d been
thinking she’d protected her siblings from Father’s
sins.

“
Sister, you have taken too much
upon your shoulders. We are not your responsibility. Mother has
made unfair demands of you.”

Aldora shook her head. “No, she hasn’t.”
Mother merely expected Aldora to do what any and every lady of good
social standing was required to do—make a fine match.

“
You don’t want to marry him,”
Katherine insisted.

Aldora shoved to her feet and paced the floor.
“He hasn’t even asked.”

“
But if he did, you’d say yes for
the wrong reasons.”

Michael’s similar accusation burned in her
heart. She rubbed her chest to ease the pain. “They wouldn’t be the
wrong reasons, Katherine.” They’d be very necessary.

From the perch of the seat, Katherine swung
her legs back and forth much as she’d done as a girl of five and
not a young lady of fifteen. “I’ll ask one more question. If you
answer truthfully, I promise I shan’t ask any further
questions.”

Aldora waited.

“
Is there…” Katherine tapped a
finger to her lower lip. “Another gentleman who has earned your
affection?”

Oh, it was too much. Aldora turned around, and
made a show of studying the door. All the while she fought the
sting of tears that flooded her eyes. She’d not become a watering
pot in front of her sister. Aldora needed to be the strong one, the
protector. What good would come of telling Katherine of Michael? Of
how he made her heart skip a beat. Of how he teased her. Of how
he’d waltzed her scandalously through Lord and Lady
Havendale’sgardens?

“
So there is,” Katherine deduced
when Aldora didn’t reply fast enough.

Aldora turned around to face her and pasted on
a smile. “Don’t be silly.”

“
What—”

“
You said no more questions,
Katherine.”

The air left Katherine on a
whoof
. She jumped to the
floor and proceeded to straighten her skirts. “Very well. But—” she
held up a single finger— “do not dare do something like marry a
stuffy, pompous lord to help us. Is that clear?”

Aldora managed her first smile that whole day.
She bowed her head. “I promise.”

Chapter Seven

Michael accepted a flute of champagne from a
passing servant. He downed it in a single swallow. His eyes did a
purposeful sweep of the crowd.

“
Looking for someone?” St. James
drawled alongside him.

Michael made a non-committal noise
and continued his search. Last evening, Michael had no intentions
of attending any
ton
functions. He’d planned on going to White’s and getting
himself absolutely soused. The desire to see her, however, had
proven too strong. So he’d accompanied St. James, expecting to see
Lady Aldora, only to learn that the young lady had fallen
ill.

And for nearly twenty-four hours since he’d
learned she was unwell, Michael had been consumed with a numbing
terror. He silently blasted his brother who’d had the ill sense to
take her walking through Hyde Park on a chilled, rainy
day.

“
Ahh, there she is,” St. James
said.

Michael followed his brother’s
gaze. A buoying lightness filled Michael. The power of it so
strong, so gripping that he forgot she belonged to St. James and
that Michael, by the sheer history of his life, wasn’t fit to even
keep company with her. Hell, he wasn’t deemed fit company
for
anyone
. The
sole reason he was even included in
ton
functions was because of his
brother’s title.

As if she felt his eyes on her, Lady Aldora
froze. Her body seemed to straighten, illuminating the graceful
elegance of her long, lean neck. To put his lips to the satiny
smoothness of that skin. He’d trade all the wealth he’d made over
the years to caress the pulse beating there.

With excellent color in her cheeks, the lady
looked remarkably well. Not at all ill.

“
Michael?”

“
Yes, she is here,” Michael
snapped, knowing his tone was that of a petulant child.

St. James gave him an indecipherable look
before casting his gaze back toward Lady Aldora. His brother rubbed
his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I imagine she’ll make a
perfectly suitable wife.”

A curtain of black rage clouded Michael’s
vision. He forced himself to count to five. When that didn’t help,
he counted to ten.

“
You disapprove of her,” St. James
continued. With his every question he pitched daggers at Michael’s
gut.

“
Not at all,” Michael said, his
tone rough.

“
Hmm,” St. James muttered. “I
imagine she’ll make me a fine b—where are you going?” he called
after Michael.

Michael ignored him and continued striding
away from his brother. He’d considered himself strong, resilient.
He’d lived in the solitude of Wales, not even contacted when his
mother had died, followed by his father years later. The pain of
his family’s rejection had stung at first, but then Michael had
gradually erected a wall around his heart. He’d thought himself
unaffected. He’d thought himself immune to paltry things like pain
and happiness and love.

Then in one damn fool ride through Hyde Park,
he’d met a feisty, beautiful young woman who’d torn down those
walls.

Michael paused and leaned alongside a pillar,
borrowing strength as he confronted a maelstrom of too powerful
emotions.

He wanted her.

Wanted her with a burning intensity that
robbed him of all reason.