The Heart of a Duke (54 page)

“
Yes.” She dropped her gaze when a
bit of chagrin washed over her. Her presence at his home implied
her willingness to marry him, she understood. “I didn’t believe you
would notice me among all the other young ladies.”

There was the entire truth of it. Since he had
been working his way through the eligible ladies of Society and
hadn’t approached her in the five months since Elle eloped, she
knew she was not the woman he sought. She had no fear of being
proposed to, no matter how she might have wished for it at one
time, because she was beneath his notice.

And the truth still stung. All her friends
were in love. That was all she wanted from life. A man to love her.
A man she could love in return.

“
Perhaps it would have been better
if I hadn’t noticed you.” Langley rose and walked a few steps away,
sighed, then came back again. “I admit to being uncertain how to
proceed. The kind thing to do would be to apologize for distressing
you and let you return to your quiet life. Allow you to find a
husband whose life would be less threatening to your
happiness.”

He had her attention now. What he called the
kind thing was the only act she expected from him at this point.
What was he thinking?

“
Is that what you wish, Lady
Charlotte?”

Her hand went to the heart on the chain around
her neck. Why was she even wearing it still? That ship had sailed.
The heart of the duke. Such a bounder. “I am no longer certain what
I wish.”

“
You asked me not too long ago
what I wished for in a wife. At the time, I didn’t know, but I do
now.” He resumed his seat, leaning forward to speak softly to her.
“I want a wife who is proud to call me husband. One who will accept
my word as truth, regardless of the accusations against me. One who
will know me well enough to trust me in all things.”

He pushed his hair off his forehead, his hand
then shifting as if to reach for her before resting palm-down on
the desk. “She will have to trust me, as the gossips will always
try to bring her down. I know these are strengths that come with
time, but the woman I marry will need to know herself capable of
doing all of this.”

Langley rose again and came around the desk to
sit in the chair beside her.

Charlotte’s heart fluttered wildly and she
fought the urge to flee the room. She’d told him before she was not
the woman he sought, why did he feel he must explain all of this to
her now? Surely he didn’t expect her to continue to help him find a
wife.

He reached out and took her hand. “Do you see
that pile of books?”

She nodded.

“
They are the ones you said you
enjoy. I spent the entirety of the day yesterday searching their
souls for a clue to where I went wrong. I am very sorry to say I
didn’t find it.”

Looking back at him, Charlotte tipped her head
to one side. “I do not understand. What did you think the books
would tell you?”

His chuckle was brief, dry. “How to be a hero.
How to be your hero, Charlotte.”

Her eyes widened. Her hero? Her heart
continued to race, and her stomach began to quiver. Who was this
man beside her? “You wish to be my hero? I do not need rescuing, I
assure you.”

“
Do you not?” His thumb rubbed
over the back of the hand he still held. “I beg to disagree. You
seem to imagine yourself a wallflower, and are content to let the
other ladies display their talents while keeping your light under a
bushel.”

His was an apt description, except for it only
being her imagination. “When one is invisible to those around her,
is she imagining she is not being seen?” She withdrew her hand,
holding it up before he could argue more. “Please do not try to
turn a pretty phrase and convince me of my beauty or exquisite
figure. I know I am not a great beauty, and I am comfortable with
that. One day I will find a man who is equally comfortable with my
looks, and I shall accept him as my husband and be glad of
it.”

Langley smiled with a slow shake of his head.
“You deserve so much better. You deserve a man who will sing your
praises to all around you, and tell you that you are the only woman
for him.”

He paused, looking deeply into her eyes.
“Charlotte, you are the only woman for me. You see me as I am, a
simple man trapped in a prestigious role. Any woman could love the
duke, but only you see the man.”

A mix of emotions whirled inside her. Fear and
the urge to escape the room. Excitement, tinged with disbelief.
Uncertainty. What did she want?

She had been in love with the duke, and when
she met the man she felt horribly disillusioned. But was that just
the façade he wore? The aloof air that kept others from seeing who
he really was?

And then she saw it, the pieces of the mask
falling away. She looked to the books on his desk. He’d been
reading them, trying to discern how to communicate with her. He was
just like her, intimidated by the need to converse with others. The
books were his fortress, the same as hers. Perhaps he hadn’t
changed from the gallant youth who would climb a tree to rescue a
doll.

Where she withdrew from the crowd and watched
from the fringes, he didn’t have that option. Everywhere he went
people clambered for his notice. The only way he could protect
himself was to throw up his icy shield to force others to keep
their distance.

They were more alike than she could have ever
imagined. She’d judged him harshly, and wrongly. Her hands shook
once more and she toyed with the ribbon on her gown, which was sure
to fray. “It is I who owe you an apology, Your Grace.”

“
Whatever for?”

Charlotte forced herself to look at him, meet
his gaze squarely. “You are wrong about me seeing the real man. As
much as you did not see me, I saw only the duke, not Andrew
Vickers. I fear I judged you on the same sort of behavior that kept
you from noticing me.”

His shoulders lost some of their stiffness,
but he still didn’t smile. “I see. And who do you believe is
sitting beside you now?”

“
A man. A very gentle and kind
man.” Glancing at the books once more, she felt her cheeks grow
warm. “Did you really hope to learn something in a book to help you
speak to me?”

He chuckled, his gaze turning toward the
shelves. “I did. You spend so much time with them, I thought if I
could learn what the men on those pages were doing that held you so
raptly, I could win your heart. I feared I would need to stir up a
ghost, a thunderstorm and a sea cliff to capture your
attention.”

Now Charlotte laughed. “That would be a bit
much. I don’t think the other guests would appreciate the
melodrama.”

“
I care not what the others think,
only you. I can offer you a ruined castle, if it will
suffice.”

She shook her head, her entire being feeling
light and airy at that moment. He was such a silly man, who could
have guessed it?

His expression sobered. “Being my wife will
not be easy. One would have to put up with my disinterest in
Society. My preferences for being at home. There will be whispers
about me whenever I go out, hints linking my name to some demimonde
seeking notoriety. Do you understand this?”

Charlotte continued to look into his eyes,
searching her own heart before answering. “Yes, sir.”

His lips thinned when he pressed on. “I cannot
guarantee there would not be another scene like the one in the maze
any time we attend an assembly. But I can guarantee it will not be
at my instigation, and I will end it as quickly as humanly
possible.”

Her throat was too dry to swallow. Her
thoughts raced ahead, knowing what he was about to ask. Was she
strong enough to accept a life such as that, knowing there would be
people seeking to tarnish him at every turn?

“
I don’t claim to know how love
works,” he continued, “but I do plan to love my wife, and would be
pleased if she could love me in return. Lady Charlotte, I am not a
man of poetic turns of phrase. If there were time, I would read
through every book on these shelves to find just the right words to
assure you of my affections, new though they are. But I fear by
waiting I might miss the chance to address the woman I have chosen
to spend my life with. Can you accept me with these simple
words…and agree to marry me, Charlotte?”

“
Why me?”

Langley blinked, his lips parting. “I beg your
pardon?”

“
Almost any one of the ladies here
is suited to what you describe. Why have you chosen me?”

He continued to study her for a moment, then
his eyes smiled as if he understood what she needed to hear. “Among
all the women I have known, you are the first to attempt to discern
my character. To really know me, and not simply accept what others
have said. You claim Lady Eleanore mentioned me enough, but you
didn’t use what she said to claim your acquaintance with me. If I
have understood you correctly, you seek to marry the man, not the
title.”

He reached for her hand again, squeezing it
gently. “Besides, you prefer the company of a book to a ballroom
full of people, as do I. It is not enough to build a life on, but
we can discover the other interests we share as we go along. So,
what do you think? Will you have me, Andrew Vickers, the
man?”

She tore her hand from his grasp and clasped
the heart pendant, which felt as if it were burning her skin. She
blinked rapidly as tears began to pool. “Yes, sir. I can accept
you, and I do.”

“
You do?” Langley let out a rush
of air and laughed. “I am surprised, I must say.”

Charlotte grinned and dabbed her eyes with the
handkerchief he produced from his pocket. “That will not do. The
man who asks me to marry him does not believe I would do
so.”

“
Ah, but I trust you to know
yourself well enough to agree, now that you’ve seen me for what I
am.” He stood, tugging her into his arms. “I asked you once if I
frighten you and you said only a little. Do I frighten you
now?”

Her eyes wide, she shook her head, but the
trembling of her body argued the point.

“
I wonder.” He chuckled softly. He
lifted her chin and pressed his lips to hers, inhaling her gasp. He
kneaded his mouth on hers, taking as much from the sweet kiss as
possible before pulling back.

When he lifted his head, Charlotte’s lashes
fluttered, and she smiled up at him. Her stomach still quivered,
but she felt surprisingly calm and peaceful. “That was very
pleasant.”

He laughed loudly and set her away from him.
“I’m glad you think so, as I hope to repeat the experience often.
But we should find our mothers now and relieve them of their
worries.”

Chapter Eight

The ballroom at Hawking Hall was alight with
the glow of many candles and lamps, and two enormous chandeliers.
Every one of his mother’s friends had come to the gala event,
curious to learn if the duke had finally found a
fiancée.

Langley watched Brooky sweep by in a waltz,
followed by Charlotte in the arms of another guest. As a wave of
jealousy consumed Langley, he wondered if she would be terribly
disappointed if they attended very few balls in the future. The
newness of his engagement had no bearing on his level of
possessiveness.

Charlotte was his.

Not to own, or control, but her pleasure and
enjoyment should be because of him, not some other man. He looked
forward to discovering the many ways he could make her laugh. This
realization caught him off guard. The strength of the emotion
threatened to choke him. How had this happened?

She looked lovely, there was no mistaking it.
Her ornate hairstyle of braids and curls didn’t overwhelm her face,
which radiated pure joy. Had he truly considered her plain? Her
nerves or insecurities must have kept her beauty hidden. Now he
could imagine no other face he wished to see smiling up at
him.

Lord Pinsley, Charlotte’s father, pushed his
way through the crowd to Langley’s side. Thankfully, her father and
her sister Alison had planned to attend the ball, and arrived
Friday evening. The two men had been able to settle the engagement
details, which would be put into writing soon.

Leaning in to be heard over the music, Lord
Pinsley said, “I hear the bookmakers are struggling to pay off all
the wagers on your betrothal.”

Shaking his head, Langley grimaced. “Men will
bet on the strangest things.” He suddenly recalled Brooky’s offer
of a wager just days prior. He should have taken that bet, as
events turned out.

“
Had I been a betting man, I would
have never put money on this match.” Pinsley took a swallow from
his champagne flute.

Langley studied the older man from the corner
of his eye. Pinsley couldn’t object to Langley as a son-in-law, as
he’d agreed to let Langley speak to his older daughter. Thank
goodness Langley had seen Lady Alison and Mr. Foster whispering as
they stood in their own little world before he’d
proposed.

Pinsley hadn’t mentioned the awkwardness of
that situation. Perhaps Lady Pinsley had informed him of the events
that had taken place since Lady Charlotte’s arrival at Hawking
House. And as far as Langley was concerned, it was too late to back
out now. He would marry Charlotte in three weeks. “To be honest, I
wouldn’t have wagered on myself, either. I am grateful I only have
to choose a bride once in my lifetime. It’s not an experience I
wish to revisit.”