The Heart of a Duke (47 page)

Lord Pembrook came to stand at her other side,
folding his arms across his bright gold waistcoat and brown coat.
“I believe it’s time for some refreshments, don’t you,
Langley?”

“
I’m sure the Duchess has that
well under control,” he responded evenly.

“
Yes, but Lady Charlotte might
appreciate some lemonade after her walk about the lawn.” Pembrook
tilted his head in her direction.

“
Of course, forgive me,” Langley
said. “I shall fetch you a glass.”

She stepped toward the house, away from the
gentlemen. She didn’t want Langley singling her out for attention.
Didn’t want to give him the chance to say something he couldn’t
take back. “Oh, please don’t trouble yourself, sir. I can go with
the others.”

“
I’m your host. Nothing would give
me more pleasure than making certain you enjoy your time at Hawking
Hall.”

He played the part too well. What was he
really thinking? Charlotte took another step away, uncertain how to
behave. She just couldn’t bring herself to be rude, even to
convince him she was not interested in his attentions. “How can I
not enjoy myself? Your gardens are among the finest in Hampshire.
Your home is equal to any King George might own, I
imagine.”

Langley hitched his coat back on one side and
rested his hand on his hip, apparently forgetting his offer of
refreshment. He seemed deep in thought as he studied her. There was
nothing in his manner to even hint at what could be running through
his mind, but her instincts had her ready to flee.

Without speaking, Langley offered her his arm
and when she took it, they began to stroll toward the house with
Pembrook following discretely a few paces behind. “I have a
proposition that would be mutually beneficial to us. I won’t waste
your time with exposition on the benefits versus deficits, but
shall come straight to the point. I am in need of a wife, and I
believe you would be well-suited to being a duchess.”

Charlotte snapped her jaw shut before her lips
parted, thankfully, so she wasn’t caught gaping like a fish. Had
the duke really just proposed to her? Her sister and friends had
given her a completely different impression of what to expect when
that most anticipated event took place. Where was the mention of
undying love, the expressions of longing to spend the rest of their
lives in romantic bliss?

He hadn't compared her eyes to tide pools, or
her hair to silk. Not once did he mention her complexion or smile.
Severely disappointed, there was no way Charlotte could welcome
such a proposal, especially since there was no mention of
affection. Her mother would faint if she ever found out what she
was about to do.

Charlotte must pretend this was a discussion
of her qualities, if she could keep a straight face. Then slip away
as if she felt the discussion was at an end. "That is very generous
of you to say so, Your Grace. My mother will be pleased all her
years of instruction were not wasted. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I
believe the others have gone inside."

Chapter Two

Charlotte grew uncomfortably warm when
Pembrook broke out in a coughing fit that plainly was an attempt to
cover his laughter. The duke grabbed her arm before she could make
her escape.

Langley glared over his shoulder at his
friend. "Would you excuse us, Pembrook? I wish to speak to the lady
alone."

"Of course. I shall go fetch her maid to
chaperone. Don’t be long. You don’t need the hint of scandal
surrounding your marriage." He bowed to Charlotte with a flourish
of his hand. "May I say before I go, I find myself quite smitten
with the lady?"

Charlotte smiled and looked away, too
embarrassed at the idea there was a witness to her audacity. She
had just turned down an offer of marriage from the most eligible
man in all of England.

“
Sir, I must insist on joining the
others. I cannot remain alone with you.” While they were in plain
site of the morning room windows, her mother would chastise her for
causing the slightest scandal. Not to mention the very real fact
she could be forced to marry the man simply because they’d been
seen together like this.

Oh, what an unexpected quandary she found
herself in! The moment she’d come here for was upon her and she
felt nothing but the desperate need to flee. The only certain thing
at this moment was she wasn’t in love with the Duke of Langley, but
merely a fanciful version of him. Some ladies were suited to making
the best of an opportunity such as this and would leap at his
suggestion that they suited each other. Some would squeal with glee
and run for their mamas with the exciting news.

Charlotte was not one of those girls. No
matter how levelheaded she tried to be, she couldn’t look at the
positive side of this. As the Duchess of Langley she would be one
of the most powerful ladies of the ton. She would have cachet in
London, and any assemblies she threw would be a most sought-after
invitation. She would have money, the finest of gowns, possibly
even her own carriage. She could probably convince Langley to
sponsor some of Jonathan Foster’s experiments, which would bring
Alison great joy.

Yet none of that would fulfill Charlotte,
although seeing her sister’s increased happiness would come close.
Even a home ringing with the laughter of her own children wouldn’t
be an adequate replacement for love.

Charlotte could never marry a man who didn’t
love her, no matter what titles he held.

Searching her thoughts, she tried to determine
what to say to Langley, as he was obviously going to push the
matter. She doubted telling him the truth—that she wished to marry
for love—would suffice. It certainly wouldn’t hold water should her
mother hear of this.

Langley stood with his hands clasped behind
his back gazing in the direction of the large, ornate stone
fountain, as though he were unable to face her. "Did I
misunderstand your situation? Is there a beau you are hoping to
marry? I understood the ladies present were all free to
marry."

"No, sir. There is no one." The words clasped
around her heart and squeezed. She drew in a deep breath. Up until
a month ago when he’d almost proposed to Alison, Langley had been
the only resident of her dreams. But she'd wakened to an ugly
truth. Langley could never love her.

And now she knew he wasn't even looking for
love. He needed a duchess, a wife to provide him an heir. Any
suitable applicant was being considered. She needed to stand firmly
against this idea of marriage to him, speak to him in terms he
understood. “Still, I do not consider myself a good prospect for
the position you are seeking to fill.”

He looked down at her, his hooded eyes
guarding his thoughts. "Is it the role of duchess that concerns
you? My mother is looking forward to teaching my wife what is
expected of her. You won't be thrown to the wolves."

"I hadn't even considered that." Charlotte
merely wanted to be a wife and mother, and hadn’t thought much
about what her station would be. The duties that fell to her no
matter whom she married were an easy price to pay in exchange for a
loving, happy family.

"Does the difference in our ages concern you?"
Langley asked.

"No, I don't feel you are all that old. It’s
not as though you have a houseful of children you expect me to
raise."

His dark brows drew together and the line
between them deepened. "You don't wish to have
children?"

Her smile at the thought of her own children
relaxed the tension in her face. "I look forward to children, sir.
That is my greatest wish."

Langley’s eyes narrowed, and his face puckered
as if he’d sucked a lemon. His voice sounded just as bitter. "It is
me, then. You don't care if you marry a duke, but you have no
desire to marry this duke."

She clasped her hands together in front of her
to hide how they shook. She'd known of this man for years and had
seen him about, but she didn't know him at all. The Duke of Langley
who resided in her wool-filled mind was a fiction she’d created to
compensate for the lack of attention from other men. Once she’d
been old enough to dine with the guests her father invited to their
home, she had quickly noticed she garnered nothing more than a
passing glance from the gentlemen. Most were scientists, and
Charlotte had no interest in the sciences, so she had little to
converse with them about.

At least she had known what excited those men.
Their love for their work proved them capable of loving something.
Had Langley loved Elle? Theirs had been an arranged betrothal, but
he might have come to love her. If he still had feelings for her,
he might not be open to falling in love again. The pain might still
be fresh. Yet what a disastrous, tragic life Charlotte would lead
if she went into a marriage thinking he might one day fall in love,
and it never happened.

Charlotte forced herself to be strong. One
thing mattered most in choosing her husband, and she must be firm
in settling for nothing less. "My concern is that you say nothing
of love. You cannot claim to have an affection for me when you know
nothing about me, and I cannot marry a man who doesn’t love
me."

He met her gaze and she noticed his eyes were
so dark a brown they were almost black. Deep wells that had always
seemed haughty. It was now clear he looked that way when he was
deep in thought. A minor difference, since he excluded those around
him either way, but one pushed people away, where the other was
introspective.

She liked the ability in a man to consider his
deeper thoughts and not simply say what polite society expected.
That didn’t strengthen her resolve to keep the duke at arm’s
length.

Langley shrugged. “Few marriages among our
peers begin with love. That doesn’t mean the parties don’t
eventually find it.” When Charlotte tilted her head with a frown,
he continued. “Since my father arranged a betrothal on my behalf, I
never gave any consideration to love.”

“
I see.” Her disappointment was
hard to keep inside.

“
Is this the only objection you
have to marrying me?”

Charlotte chewed her lip. Langley was not a
bad man, nor was he ugly. Nor destitute, nor were there any rumors
of cruelty about him. He would make some woman an adequate husband.
Meeting his gaze, she nodded. “What of you, Your Grace? What do you
want from a wife?”

His head pulled back as his brows drew
together. “No one has ever asked me that question.”

“
I am asking.” She needed to hear
what he truly felt, not what she hoped he’d say. It was highly
unlikely he’d wish for a wife who preferred to spend her time in
the library rather than paying morning calls to just the right
people, but at least she might learn if she was the sort of woman
with whom he might eventually fall in love. Charlotte held back the
sigh that threatened to escape. Perhaps she could help him choose
among the other ladies if she knew what he sought.

The corner of Langley’s mouth turned up and
the crease of his brow faded. “I should call you impertinent, but I
will try my best to answer. After all, I have promised to entertain
my guests. Very well, let’s see. The new Duchess of Langley will be
required to tolerate me as a husband, and I don’t know what sort of
husband I will be. She will continue as my mother has done,
collecting clothing for the poor, taking baskets to sick or needy
tenants.”

She waited for him to go on, and when he
didn’t, she asked, “That’s all?”

“
There’s entertaining required,
both here and in Town, but as I said, my mother will teach my wife
everything she needs to know.”

He had to be the most unromantic man she’d
ever met—not that she’d met many men. Nor had she conversed with
them beyond the weather and recent performances at the King’s
Theatre. She itched to throw her hands into the air and simply walk
away. How vexing he was with his vague responses. Folding her arms
across her chest, she fought to keep her tone even. “If all you
need is a trainable female, one of my father’s hounds would
suit.”

Langley laughed loudly, a rich sound that sent
shivers coursing through Charlotte. “There is the matter of being
from the right family.”

“
Father chooses his breeding pairs
quite selectively.” She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from
smiling. This was an unexpected lark—teasing a duke. Perhaps if
she’d felt confident enough speaking to the gentlemen in London,
she wouldn’t be in this situation.

What was she thinking? This was the moment
she’d been waiting for her entire life. The Duke of Langley wanted
her to be his wife. Why couldn’t she just forget her dreams and say
yes?

“
I’m beginning to understand why
you didn’t find a husband in your first Season.” He lowered a brow
rather severely.

Now it was Charlotte’s turn to laugh louder
than polite company permitted. He looked so much like Papa in that
moment. “You see? I would make a poor duchess. My mother is forever
chiding me for speaking too plainly. You are already regretting
your offer, if that is truly what you were suggesting. Have no
concern, I will not let on you said anything.” She began to walk up
the cobblestone path to the manor, eager to escape the man before
she remembered how much she had once wanted to be his
duchess.