Anything But a Duke

by Christy Carlyle

  “And solving mysteries?”

  “Are you asking me to help you with yours?”

  “You know I can’t do that. I won’t embroil you in my history when I don’t even know it myself.”

  The corner of her mouth tipped up. “I’m the one who chased off two thugs with the tip of my umbrella. You needn’t protect me, Aidan.”

  The lady could convince him of nearly anything just by the way she said his name, the way she slowed over the two syllables when she was usually given to rushing through every sentence. It was madness to consider letting her assist him unravel the knot of his past. But tonight he was feeling reckless.

  He reached inside his coat pocket and pulled out the envelope Callihan had given him. He’d examined it dozens of times since that day. The paper had been carefully cut, folded, and glued. Someone had taken time and care to create a container for the five pounds of charity Callihan received.

  “I was given this by a man who claims he got it from my sister.”

  She took the envelope from him with infinite care, the way he handled one of his delicate ancient artifacts. “There’s nothing to distinguish it, is there?”

  “No writing. No watermark.” Aidan looked onto the darkened streets passing by, considering how much to tell her. “He doesn’t know her name or where she resides. I have an investigator who haunts the neighborhood now, in case she reappears.”

  “May I keep this? Just for a day or two.”

  “Is there something you can determine from it?” What she did in her laboratory was as deep a mystery to him as the veiled woman who’d visited Callihan.

  “I don’t want to promise anything, but I can examine it more closely in my workshop and see what I can do.”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip.

  Aidan swallowed hard. He wanted to kiss her again. Tonight. Now.

  Before he could say more or thank her, the carriage stopped in front of the Merton town house. Diana slid the envelope into her reticule and placed her hand in his as he assisted her down from the carriage.

  “Remember,” she said, after he’d knocked on the front door. “Bess is clever. She’s also rather bold and likes to ask questions.”

  Aidan wondered if she realized she’d described herself. “Were you close?”

  “Good friends, yes. Bess and I both share a love of science, though she is more interested in chemistry. We spent a great deal of time together in school. Some said we were so alike we could have been sisters.” She glanced up at him, and her eyes sparkled in the glow of the lanterns on either side of the Mertons’ front door. “But we are truly very different.”

  “How so?”

  “Unlike me, Bess has always wished to marry.”

  A servant answered the door and saved Diana from the confusion in Aidan’s gaze.

  She was a fool. When he was near, he made her feel too much. Her mind quieted and her heart took over. It was terrifying. Every moment that they shared, every detail they revealed, made her want more.

  Now he’d entrusted her with a piece of his mystery. A link to his past that he so desperately wanted to uncover.

  The gesture felt as intimate as the kiss they’d shared in his study.

  “Diana, I’m so glad you’ve come.” Bess emerged from the drawing room once the servant had taken their coats. She wrapped Diana in a welcoming embrace. “Remind me to show you some of the decorations we’ve purchased for the reunion.”

  When she turned to Aidan, one blond brow arched high. “You must be Mr. Iverson. Diana sent me a note to say you’d be accompanying her.”

  “Thank you for allowing me to join the event, Lady Elizabeth.” He bowed like a perfect gentleman over Bess’s hand. “I’ve never attended a séance before.”

  Bess smiled, and it was an expression Diana knew well. The smile of challenge. Which usually meant her friend was about to mount an assault.

  “I sense skepticism, Mr. Iverson,” Bess said as she led them to the drawing room. “Come and meet the other guests. I’m afraid my father is at his club and my mother is indisposed this evening.” She gestured as they entered the room. “But may I present Mr. Harker; Miss Gwendoline Ives; and her betrothed, Lord Egerton. Diana, I believe you two have met.”

  Diana stared in horror. Egerton was the last man in London she wanted to see.

  “Miss Ashby and I are very briefly acquainted. My friendship is with her brother, Dominick.” Though he didn’t sneer, Diana doubted anyone in the room missed the disdain in Egerton’s tone.

  Aidan stepped closer. She felt the heat of him at her back, and his nearness gave her an odd sense of comfort that even Egerton’s presence couldn’t dispel.

  “Are you all right?” he whispered low enough that only she could hear.

  “The last time I saw him, we didn’t part on pleasant terms,” she told him quietly.

  “Is he the one?” he whispered. “The unwanted proposal you spoke of?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, then I think I’m beholden to dislike him.”

  Diana inhaled sharply and fought the tickle of laughter that bubbled up. When Aidan placed a hand on her lower back and guided her to an empty settee, she let the frustration of encountering Egerton go. He was no longer any concern of hers.

  “The room is ready, my lady.” A servant waited on the threshold and directed them to a larger room across the hall.

  Aidan followed close behind, almost protectively, and they took chairs side by side at the long, polished table that had been set out for the event.

  “Oh, there are table cards,” Bess told the guests. “Please sit in the spot you were assigned.”

  Diana’s stomach churned at the sight of Egerton’s card next to hers. Aidan’s, it seemed, was on the opposite side of the table next to Bess. That made sense. Diana had been clear in her note to her friend about the intentions for their visit.

  Once everyone was seated, the lights were dimmed and every candle snuffed. Faces were cast in shadows, and Diana kept her gaze on Aidan’s.

  In the darkness, someone moved toward the table with a light source. It was a glass bowl glowing with a greenish light that had a distinctive garlicky smell. Diana knew immediately how they’d created the illumination.

  “Phosphorous?” Aidan mouthed at her from across the table.

  She offered him a flash of a smile in return, and he grinned in triumph as if pleased to impress her with a bit of scientific knowledge. Someday she’d tell him about her experiments with phosphorescent illumination.

  Her heartbeat ratcheted up. Someday. She was already planning a future with a man she was attempting to match to one of her friends. A friend who leaned over, whispered to him, and made him chuckle at whatever humorous quip she’d shared.

  Bess had always been like that. Intellectually, they were fairly matched, but when it came to charm and socializing, Lady Elizabeth had always excelled.

  “There are many spirits here tonight.” The lady who’d deposited the glowing bowl had taken a seat at the head of the table. She was petite, dark-haired, and garbed in black from head to toe.

  “Prepare yourself for the fakery,” Egerton whispered too close to her cheek.

  Diana eased away from him, and across from her, Aidan’s hand balled into a fist. He looked ready to climb across the table if Egerton gave her trouble.

  “I am prepared for anything, Lord Egerton,” Diana quipped in reply.

  She liked Aidan’s protectiveness far too much. Oddly, it gave her confidence to deal with Egerton without his interference.

  “Samuel,” Miss Ives said softly, “the medium has directed us all to clasp hands.”

  Diana hadn’t heard the woman’s directive, and the last thing she wanted was to hold on to Egerton, but when he extended his hand palm up, she took it gingerly. Thank goodness she was wearing gloves.

  Across the table, Bess had Aidan’s hand clasped tightly too.

  “Lady Elizabeth has asked to speak to her brother,” the medium intoned
in an odd singsong voice. “We will ask the spirits to speak to us.”

  The conjurer bowed her head, allowing the phosphorescent glow to cast her delicate-boned face in eerie shadows. “The brother says he misses you, Lady Elizabeth.”

  Bess let out a whimper. “What else does he say?”

  “That you should follow your heart, my lady.”

  Bess turned her gaze shyly toward Aidan.

  For a long while, the room filled with a strange tension. No one spoke. Diana wondered if anyone even breathed. They were all waiting, but she wasn’t certain what they were waiting for.

  “Another spirit comes,” the medium said, her pitch rising.

  Diana rolled her eyes in the semidarkness. She guessed that the medium would fabricate a dead family member for all of them. Nothing in her believed that the petite woman at the head of the table was truly speaking to spirits, but it didn’t matter.

  The séance wasn’t truly the point of this evening. Matchmaking was why they’d come.

  “Speak to us,” the medium droned.

  Diana drew in a long breath and chastised herself. She had no right to loathe the notion of Aidan marrying her closest schoolmate, but she did. Sitting across from them, staring at their clasped hands, a sickening mix of emotions built inside her. Jealousy was easy. That green biting envy welled up quickly.

  But fear came too, and a gnawing uncertainty.

  She hadn’t quite worked out all that she felt for Aidan. She only knew that he made her feel. Not calculate or plan or engineer. Just feel. And, unexpectedly, she wanted more.

  “A man. A father. He wishes to speak to the young lordling.”

  Egerton’s fingers tightened on her hand and Diana winced.

  “He says you must not squander the family’s fortune.”

  “How dare you?” Egerton shot up from his chair.

  Diana reclaimed her hand and rubbed at the spot where he’d pinched her.

  “Lord Egerton, please sit down.” Bess was using the no-nonsense tone she’d employed as a volunteer matron in their dormitory at Bexley. “You did know the evening could be provoking. I warned everyone.”

  Egerton scowled and remained standing. “I do not wish to be provoked by a charlatan.”

  All eyes shifted to the medium.

  “What the lady said was a very impertinent thing to say,” Miss Ives put in, her voice soft and youthful. “She should apologize.”

  Diana knew from long acquaintance that Bess Thorndyke could be a stubborn young woman.

  “You are interrupting the spirits, Lord Egerton,” Bess said in a cool, clear voice. “If you no longer wish to participate, feel free to depart.”

  “Elizabeth,” Miss Ives squeaked. “Samuel is to be my husband and part of our family.”

  “I cannot work in such discord,” the medium said tightly. “The spirits will not come.”

  Bess pushed her chair back and stood. “Would you excuse us, Diana and Mr. Iverson? I would like to speak to my cousin and Lord Egerton a moment.”

  They stood and shuffled from the darkened room. Diana stepped into the drawing room where they’d gathered before the séance and Aidan followed close behind. He pulled the pocket doors almost shut behind them.

  Diana sensed unspoken words from him. A strange energy buzzed in the air. She glanced at the carpet, the wallpaper, a gilded painting glowing in the light of a candlelit sconce.

  “Bess likes you,” finally made it through her lips. It wasn’t what she wished to say. Only the words she knew she should say.

  “How can you tell?” he asked, stepping toward the wall to examine a vivid painting of a battlefield.

  “The way she looks at you is telling.”

  “How does she look at me, Diana?” He turned back to face her, those searching green eyes of his scanning her face.

  “As if she’s pleased with what she sees.”

  He grinned. A tantalizing flash of white. A cool shiver chased down Diana’s spine, but other parts of her warmed. Her neck, her chest, and lower all the way to her thighs. To her very center.

  “And you?” He had the audacity to quirk one auburn brow.

  The scoundrel knew the answer.

  “Sometimes I like you a great deal, Mr. Iverson.”

  Aidan came forward with such a look of determination that Diana almost stumbled back.

  He cupped her face in his hands and swept his thumbs across her cheeks. He studied her lips, traced the edge with his fingertip. He was stoking her like a fire, and just when she thought she might burst into flames, his mouth came down on hers.

  Not a gentle kiss. A hungry, searching joining. He dipped his tongue inside to taste her, stroked his fingers along her cheek, down her neck.

  She wrapped one hand around his lapel to pull him closer and slid the other over his chest, all the way up to the taut muscles of his neck.

  When he lifted his head, they were both breathless.

  “First of all, stop calling me Mr. Iverson.” He dipped his head to kiss her again. “And secondly, sometimes isn’t good enough. I’d prefer you like me all the time.”

  “That seems a great deal to ask.” Diana placed a hand on his chest, felt the firm swell of his muscles beneath. Relished the wild thrash of his heart, beating every bit as fast as her own. “And do you truly think a kiss is the way to convince me?”

  His hand came up and settled over hers, as if he wished to keep her touching him for as long as he could.

  “I’m willing to consider other suggestions.”

  Footsteps sounded in the hallway and Diana’s heart skipped a beat. She jolted back out of Aidan’s arms.

  “We’re ready to resume,” Miss Ives said from the threshold before retreating back across the hall.

  Aidan made no move to leave.

  Diana stayed too. Not because she was uncertain of what to do. She knew what she should do. She had an instinct for practicality and knew exactly what a sensible young lady would do.

  But not with him. He brought out some other part of herself that she rarely set free. A side driven by feelings and impulse, and emotions that frightened and thrilled her.

  “We should join the others.” Getting the words out was the first step, but she still hadn’t taken the next and moved toward the doors. “Bess will wonder why we’ve lingered here.”

  “I have no more desire to return to that room than you do,” he said from over her shoulder.

  “But this is the deal we made.” Clinging to their agreement seemed a shield she could hold up to protect herself from risking everything. Her heart. Her future. Her work.

  And his future too. A noble wife was what he wanted.

  She frowned as she turned back to him. “Why do you wish to marry?”

  “Diana—”

  “Why were you so eager to do so that you made a deal to fund a device you don’t even believe in?”

  “I believe in you. And now that I know what you’re capable of, I believe in your device too.”

  His words were like a balm she didn’t realize she desperately needed. It felt good to simply hear someone say he believed in her. It felt extraordinary to hear Aidan give her that assurance.

  But she still wanted an answer. “I assume that as an untitled gentleman, you want the connections that marriage to a noble bride will bring.”

  His jaw tightened as he held her gaze. “Yes. That’s what I wanted.”

  “I’m not a noblewoman, and I don’t want the things that ladies like Sophie and Grace do. I can’t bring you what you want.”

  “I remember our deal, Diana.” There was such disappointment in his gaze that her breath tangled in her throat. Moving past her, he strode toward the room across the hall, but midway he stopped and glanced at her over his shoulder. “Perhaps I’m just not content with the terms anymore.”

  Chapter Twenty

  For a week after the séance at Lady Elizabeth Thorndyke’s home, Aidan did what he did best: he buried himself in work and did his damnedest not to
think about Diana Ashby and the deal they’d made.

  He was a fool for wanting what he could not have, especially when the opportunity to have what he’d longed for—connections, status, access to places of power that would always be closed to a commoner—was in his grasp.

  Unfortunately, none of the noblewomen to whom he’d been introduced was the one lady who persisted in his thoughts day and night.

  Diana was right. She had fulfilled her part of their bargain.

  Yet here he sat, scribbling notes for an upcoming meeting and thinking chiefly of one dark-haired lady inventor.

  A pile of papers sat at the edge of his desk, beckoning him. Diana’s notes on all her friends. They’d spent most of the week in a drawer, but this morning he’d pulled them out. He’d told himself to attempt to find something among the lists and notes regarding her friends that appealed to him half as much as Diana herself.

  It had proved a futile effort. Now something caused him to reach for the pages once more.

  The notes on Miss Grinstead, he crumpled and set aside. The lady seemed utterly smitten with her young man. Though Aidan doubted her family would ever allow the match, she seemed steel-willed enough to find a way to marry the lad.

  Lady Sophie was too fond of frivolity and giggling. He couldn’t imagine a lifetime of the lady’s high-pitched titter filling his ears.

  In truth, the only real possibility was Lady Elizabeth. She had been kind the evening of her séance. He tapped his finger on Lady Elizabeth’s list. Only one detail interested him. She had been matron of Diana’s dormitory at their finishing school, and Diana said they’d been good friends. Though he had no desire to marry the lady, that didn’t mean there wasn’t merit in speaking to her about Diana.

  “Coggins,” he shouted through his half-open door.

  The young man appeared a moment later.

  “I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep my next appointment this afternoon. Have a message sent to him, will you? We can reschedule for next week.”

  “Very good, sir.” Coggins began to back out.

  “Actually, do the same for the later appointment too.”