The Heart of a Duke

by Samantha Grace

  The Heart of a Duke

  Copyright © 2014

  Olivia Kelly

  Samantha Grace

  Christi Caldwell

  Robin Delany

  Aileen Fish

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

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  September 1805

  “It is time, chav.”

  Slim fingers adorned in gold rings wrapped around Nadya Pankova’s shoulder and shook her from her daydreams.

  She blinked to clear the fog from her mind. “Yes, Baba Lyuba.”

  Twilight had descended over the fair while Nadya had become lost in her musings about what possessed anyone to live as they did. She would never understand the gorgios.

  A man and woman strolled by her grandmother’s tent, taking no notice of her, leaving Nadya free to track their progress down the fairway without rousing suspicion. Gorgios were a distrustful lot. It showed in the way they hugged their children against their skirts when her people’s caravan rolled into a village, and the men who often arrived at the gypsy camp with pitchforks to demand they leave.

  The woman’s back was impossibly straight and her hair so tightly wound into a knot on her head it wouldn’t surprise Nadya if her vision were blurred. The woman was a prisoner to highborn expectations as much as she was to her confining clothes. Yet she had something Nadya would never have, enough meat on her bones to prove she never worried about from where her next meal was coming.

  Nadya’s stomach rumbled, reminding her she had duties to perform if she wished to eat that night. She sighed and set to the task of lighting the Argand burners at the entrance of her grandmother’s tent. Colored glass placed in front of the lamps lit the sailcloth tent with shades of blue and green. Her grandmother’s best silks draped the arched opening and transformed the inside into an exotic world where anything was possible.

  But more likely whoever entered the tent to have his fortune told would leave with less coin in his pocket and his head filled with a bunch of nonsense her grandmother made up.

  A collective gasp rose above the revelry from the alehouse and the distant drumming of the tribal dancers. Nadya crossed her arms in a casual gesture and smiled at Luca’s ability to mesmerize the crowd with his sword-swallowing act. They would be ecstatic when he brought out the torches and spewed fire like a demon. It was the same act every day and night, and Nadya no longer watched Luca for the daring feats, but for the rippling muscles he’d developed over winter.

  A group of girls near the back of the crowd clapped and cheered, their wide eyes sparkling.

  A shorter girl tugged at one of her companion’s sleeves. “I want to see too.”

  “Charlotte, stop.” The girl brushed her off with an annoyed glance. “You are being a pest.”

  “But I am missing everything,” Charlotte lamented. “Please, Alison?”

  A blonde tossed a quick look over her shoulder before turning to one of her friends. “Help Alison lift up Charlotte so she can see.”

  Alison and the bespectacled one cupped their hands. Charlotte placed a boot in one makeshift stirrup, then the other, and rose above their heads. The girls teetered and bumped into the blonde.

  “Be careful. You don’t want to drop her.”

  The girls’ faces were strained and turning red. “What does your sister eat? Rocks?”

  “I can’t hold her any longer.” Alison released her fingers, as did her friend, and Charlotte’s boots hit the dirt with a thump.

  “But now I can’t see again.”

  Alison’s partner adjusted her spectacles that had been knocked askew by Charlotte’s elbow. “Let’s see what else there is, Elle. We haven’t much time before we must return to the house.”

  “Just a moment,” Elle said with a dismissive wave.

  Nadya studied the girls—five in all—wondering which monstrous house awaited them. The largest belonged to the Marquess of St. Aidans. Nadya had overheard her grandmother in conversation with Baba Donka. The marquess was hosting a grand house party and had arranged for their traveling group to come as entertainment for his guests and the villagers.

  Elle sighed and hugged her hands to her chest. “Have you ever seen a more handsome man?”

  The girls giggled and agreed the sword-swallower was splendid indeed.

  Nadya rolled her eyes. As if any of these pampered girls would look twice at Luca any other time, or him, them. Though the blonde was beautiful in a way that tended to turn men’s heads, gypsy or not.

  A tumultuous churning began in Nadya’s gut just like last week when she happened upon Luca composing a song for Irina, the dog trainer’s daughter.

  Her grandmother had proclaimed Nadya’s stomach upset was a symptom of jealousy. Nadya had argued that Luca’s horrible singing was to blame.

  Bunică hadn’t seemed fooled.

  Elle’s sidekick, a shorter girl with reddish hair, locked arms with her and drew her away from the crowd. “You are already betrothed. Langley wouldn’t like you goggling at another man, even if the sword-swallower does look like a god.”

  Elle grimaced. “Must you ruin my fun, Vallie? I’d rather not think on Langley tonight.”

  The bespectacled one claimed Elle’s free arm. “I agree. The very idea of marriage and Langley makes my skin crawl.”

  “Aldora!” Vallie frowned.

  The girl shrugged. “He’s so old.”

  “He is only a few years older than Elle’s brother, and Alex is far from old.”

  “Please,” Elle groaned. “I do not want to talk about my betrothed or my brother. And Langley’s age isn’t a factor. His title well makes up for any less than pleasing attributes.”

  “How old is he?” the little one asked. Her sister shushed her.

  Nadya ducked into her grandmother’s tent before they caught her eavesdropping.

  Bunică looked up with a lighted tallow candle in her hand. “You were too long with the burners. Luca was distracting you again.”

  Nadya’s chin lifted a notch. “I was watching the girls. They will be here soon.” The ones with the easiest roads to travel always wanted their fortunes told. “Let me help.”

  She circled the worn floor pillows to take the candle from her grandmother and lit the others placed strategically on metal trays around the tent. When the candlelight flickered off the glass beads, it wasn’t hard to believe in magic. At least that was what Bunică always said. Since a belief in magic was detrimental to her grandmother’s work, and Nadya liked to eat, she was happy to do her part to help create a mystical ambiance.

  Her grandmother poured water into a glass bowl sitting on the low table in the center of the tent, then took her place on the overstuffed pillow.

  Nadya heard the girls’ giggles before their leader, the one called Elle, poked her head inside. “This is the fortuneteller tent, isn’t it?”

  What could possibly have given her that idea? Perhaps the hand-lettered sign hanging on a post outside?

  Bunic
ă ignored the inanity of Elle’s question and waved her forward. “Come in. Come in, chav, and I will tell your future.”

  There was no hesitation in the girl. She came forward with her head held high and the confidence of one raised in privilege. “I already know my future, but everyone should be able to boast having had her fortune read at least once.”

  Bunică smiled and urged the others inside. “Perhaps you will be surprised, Lady Eleanore.”

  Five sets of eyes widened.

  “How does she know Elle’s name?” the littlest one whispered. Charlotte was a curious sort, always asking questions.

  Vallie shot an incredulous look in Charlotte’s direction. “She is magic. That’s how she knows her name.”

  Lady Eleanore pursed her lips, obviously doubtful of Bunică’s powers. “Papa has paid for their services. Everyone knows who I am.”

  Her certainty and pride rubbed Nadya the wrong way. She met the pampered one’s gaze. “I have magic, too, and I will use it to decipher all of your names.”

  “Very well then.” The arching of Lady Eleanore’s delicate brow demanded Nadya show her proof.

  Nadya’s jaw hardened. It was time to put on a show. She placed her fingers against her temples, closed her eyes, and began humming and swaying.

  “What is she doing?”

  “Shh.”

  When Nadya had allowed the appropriate time to pass to build suspense, she snapped her eyes open. She pointed a finger at Lady Eleanore’s sidekick. The bangles on her wrist jangled like chimes. “I see a letter.”

  Charlotte hurried to the pillows and plopped beside Lady Eleanore. “What letter is it?”

  “There is no such thing as magic,” her sister mumbled and came to sit too.

  “I see a V,” Nadya said, drawing out the letter in her heaviest Romany accent. Their audiences liked the thrill of meeting a real gypsy, and she didn’t want to disappoint their current customers. The girls would part with every shilling in their purses before they stepped one foot outside the tent. She would make certain it was so.

  “It’s becoming clearer. I see a second letter, an A.”

  “She is guessing,” Alison grumbled.

  Nadya’s eyes popped open, and her mouth dropped as if in a silent scream. It was silly, but so were the girls. “It’s Vallie. Your name is Vallie.”

  “Yes,” she said on a rush of breath. “My name is Valera, but my family calls me Vallie.”

  Alison’s eyes went wide for an instant, but then they narrowed on Nadya. Nadya kept her face impassive. Eventually, the girl bit her bottom lip and glanced away.

  Lady Eleanore patted the pillow beside her. “Come sit, Val. This should be fun.”

  Aldora pushed her spectacles up on her nose and hurried over as well. Once Nadya had amazed them by intuiting each ones’ name, she smiled smugly at Bunică. Now her grandmother should have no trouble from the doubters.

  In turn, the young girls handed their coins to Nadya’s grandmother. She dropped them in a drawstring purse, pulled the cord tight, then tucked it into her lap. After taking several deep breaths to clear her mind of distractions, Bunică grasped the sides of the bowl and stared into the still water. Dark hair streaked with gray fell forward like a curtain closing everything out except her and her visions. At least this was the reason Bunică had always given for wearing her hair down and a veil. Image was everything when it came to making people believe.

  Just as the girls began to grow restless, Nadya’s grandmother glanced at Lady Eleanore. “You will live a long life and be blessed with many offspring and the love of a good man.”

  Bunică always said the same thing to everyone. She altered the details so it wasn’t too obvious, but every reading had some variation of health, love, and lots of babies in the future. When Nadya had asked her about this one time, Bunică explained that people wanted to believe good things were in store for them and sometimes believing was all the magic one needed to make it come true. Nadya thought it was nonsense, but she never contradicted her grandmother.

  As Bunică predicted how wonderful the girls’ lives were going to be some day, they smiled. Of course their lives were going to be wonderful. The girls would marry wealthy men, never want for anything, and grow fat with a babe in their bellies. Wasn’t that what all gorgios girls dreamed of?

  Nadya wished her own future could be half as easy, but she’d been with her grandmother since she was a tot and knew ugliness these girls would never see. She would live her grandmother’s life, sitting on a pillow, staring into a glass bowl, and spouting the obvious to make a few coins. Yet, she wouldn’t trade places with any of them. She had freedom they never knew existed.

  As the girls helped each other stand, they chattered about their good fortunes, and laughed together as they left the tent. Nadya wandered outside again.

  Luca’s act was finished and the crowd had dispersed. He was sprawled on a crate, his hair and shirt wet from dumping a bucket of water over his head as he always did at the end of a show. The translucent material clung to his chest and arms, and a water droplet slid from his slender nose.

  Her heart beat a rhythm to rival the tribal drums. She should go speak with him before Bunică called her back inside. Taking a deep breath for courage, she started in his direction, but skidded to a stop. The girls, who were huddled at the edge of the fairway, nudged Lady Eleanore.

  “Go on, then,” Vallie said.

  They giggled as Lady Eleanore ran up to Luca. Nadya couldn’t hear what she said to him—suddenly the privileged one’s confidence faded and she linked her hands behind her back, refusing to meet Luca’s amused gaze—but Luca’s dazzling smile was like a red hot poker through Nadya’s heart. He gently chucked Lady Eleanore’s chin, and she beamed at him in return. Nadya felt sick to her stomach again.

  When Lady Eleanore ran back to her friends, they all giggled and moved down the fairway as one. Luca laughed as he climbed to his feet and turned to gather his props for the next performance.

  Nadya unclasped her necklace and hurried after the girls. The gold heart pendant was a gift from her mother, an inexpensive trinket with no value. But it’s from Mama. She brushed aside her misgivings. She would always have her memories, as hazy as they were.

  The girls were part way down the spillway. “Wait! Lady Eleanore, wait!”

  They stopped and turned to look at her.

  Reaching them, she held out the pendant. “There is more. My grandmother forgot to tell you about your necklace.”

  The young one’s eyes shimmered in the twilight. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Yes, it is,” Lady Eleanore said. “But it isn’t mine.”

  Nadya’s brows lifted. “Aye, but it could be yours.” She looked at each girl gathered around her. “Or yours, or yours, or yours, or even yours, Charlotte.”

  They leaned closer. She had their attention. She lowered her voice as if to share a secret for their ears only. “Whoever wears this necklace shall win the heart of a duke.”

  Every debutante dreamed of marrying a duke, but there were so few, the prophecy would never come true. Then they would know what it was like to feel desperation, longing for something out of their reaches. Just like she longed for Luca.

  Lady Eleanore burst out laughing and her friends joined in. “I guess it is my necklace. My betrothed is a duke.”

  Nadya snatched her hand back when the girl reached for the pendant. Anger swirled in her chest, making it tight. Of course the beautiful girl would be betrothed to a duke, and yet she wanted what should be Nadya’s.

  “Aren’t you going to give me the necklace?” Lady Eleanore asked.

  Nadya’s jaw clamped tight. “Seven shillings.” She would be damned if she gave away her mother’s necklace for nothing.

  Lady Eleanore bit her bottom lip. “I only have two left. Please tell your grandmother thank you, but I cannot afford the necklace.”

  “But Elle, you must have it,” Vallie said. “You can have my left over shillings.” She du
g into her reticule and pulled out two coins.

  Aldora fumbled with her reticule as well. “You may have mine, too.”

  “And mine.” Charlotte thrust her coin toward Lady Eleanore.

  Alison was the only reluctant one. It had become clear to Nadya the girl didn’t believe in magic. She was the smartest of the lot. Still, she handed over her shilling, bringing the total to seven.

  Lady Eleanore smiled at her friends. “I will purchase the necklace, but it will belong to all of us. When I no longer need it, I’ll pass it along.”

  Vallie nodded. “Yes, everyone should have a chance to wear it.”

  They made a pact, swearing their loyalty to each other. Nadya felt more alone and adrift than ever. Tears burned her throat as she handed the necklace to Lady Eleanore in exchange for seven shillings.

  Two older women approached with soured looks on their faces. “There you are. We have been searching everywhere for you girls. Did we not tell you to stay close?”

  The woman’s scolding had no effect on the girls.

  “We are sorry, Miss Smyth.” Lady Eleanore linked arms with her friends and they headed down the spillway.

  Nadya’s shoulders slumped as she walked back to her grandmother’s tent.

  Bunică glanced up with a kind smile when Nadya came inside. “That was a very nice thing you did just now.”

  She shook her head, tears seeping from her eyes.

  Her grandmother came to gather her in her arms. “Yes, my precious girl. You used your gift to help others.”

  Bunică always said Nadya had the gift for scrying, and that it would grow stronger some day. She couldn’t bear to tell her grandmother she didn’t have the gift. She didn’t even believe in it.

  Her actions had been born of jealousy and bitterness, not kindness. Still, her grandmother’s arms felt so safe and warm, and being a disappointment killed her inside.

  Olivia Kelly

  Chapter One

  May 1810

  London, England