The Heart of a Duke

by Samantha Grace

  Alison laughed and the sound carried through the clearing so noticeably that she clapped a hand over her lips.

  Jonathan lowered his sword and spun around to face her. “Lady Alison, forgive my valet for his inappropriate tongue.” He scowled at Franklin. “He can’t seem to control it.”

  Franklin stepped forward, bowing his head. “Terribly sorry.”

  “Not at all. It was rather rude of me not to announce my presence.” Alison bit her thumbnail and Jonathan’s gaze went to her mouth instantly. She winced and pulled the inappropriate digit from her mouth. “I’ll be going now.”

  “No, please don’t.” His eyes lingered on her lips, and she held her breath. She’d thought too much of a similar look once before. She couldn’t allow herself to be fooled into thinking it meant more than it did, even though she wanted desperately to believe it. Then his gaze rose to her nose. “Instead, tell me of those. What are they?”

  She reached up to touch her face and her fingers pressed against the forgotten spectacles. Pulling them from her ears, she shrugged. “Oh, just a silly girlish plaything. Nothing important.”

  “No. Those are very interesting. Did you invent them yourself?”

  Her insides bubbled and threatened to burst with nervous laughter. Dear heavens, would he like them? She tried to say yes, but the words were a whisper of breath, so she nodded.

  “Can I see them?”

  She held them out and he came forward. His fingers brushed hers as he took them from her. An entire regimen of tingles ran up her arm, setting up camp at her breast, which became rather inflamed in response to the siege. She glanced away, terrified and a little thrilled that he might have seen the reaction he’d had on her. What would he think if he knew? Would his reaction be a scientific study, or an invisible firefly? Or somewhere in between?

  “These are brilliant.” He turned them with careful fingertips, inspecting the frames, then held them up to his eyes, scrutinizing his rolled shirt-sleeve while she studied the muscular forearm that his relaxed dress exposed. “They are so much better than traditional quizzing glasses. That’s what those are, aren’t they?”

  She could feel the heat spreading over her skin and converging on her heart. “Yes. I cannot believe I’m showing these to you. Mama would turn white as a sheet.”

  “I can’t understand why. She should be proud. These are a fantastic invention. Regular glasses—”

  “My grandmothers, yes, but I removed her lenses. I can’t tell you how many cuts I received that day.”

  He nodded sagely. “A hazard of the position. Attaching the quizzing glasses with this wire was ingenious. That way the wearer can lift or lower one side or the other to magnify or see normally, depending on their particular desire.”

  “Exactly.” She bounced, clapping her hands. Mama would have scolded her, if she’d seen, but Alison couldn’t help herself.

  “You are very intelligent. I’d love to see you pitted against Davy.” His eyes twinkled, and the tip of his sword tapped against his boot.

  “Oh, but I’m interrupting the two of you from you fencing practice.” She glanced over, but his companion had slipped away while they’d been engaged over the magnification glasses.

  “Nonsense. We were nearly done, anyhow.”

  She let her smile fall a bit. “That is too bad. Though I probably shouldn’t admit this either, I always wanted to learn more about the sport. Mama would never allow me to watch a fencing match though. She has definite views on what is acceptable for a lady.”

  He glanced from her to the sword and back, his smile taking on a wicked tilt. “How would you like to learn to fence? I’m by no means the best fencer, but I could certainly teach you how to hold a sword and inform you of the rules.”

  “Newton’s apple! Mama never has to know!”

  “Newton’s apple?” He hoisted an eyebrow and his tilted mouth took on an amused curve.

  Heat spread along her skin to cheeks, arms, breasts, everywhere. “Well, Newton needed the apple to fall on his head to make a discovery. Sometimes, when I feel like I’ve just been hit by that same apple, those words just pop out.”

  “I love that. I may have to use it myself, next time something comes to me suddenly.” He held his sword up. “Now, let me show you how to hold this.”

  He moved closer, extending his sword arm along hers, and his chest barely touched her shoulder in a way that was so wonderfully wicked. The air fled the clearing. She should step away, as should he, but she stared at the sword, unwilling to separate herself from the electric sensation of the contact. He took her hand and the world around her dissipated as his strong fingers moved over hers, locking the weapon’s handle in her closed palm.

  “Oh.”

  “You,”—he swallowed, his words coming slowly, as if perhaps, just perhaps, he were as focused on the contact as she—”you grasp the hilt in a firm grip.”

  “I see.” Her body thrummed with desperate longing—to look at him, to kiss him, to have something her body hinted at but of which the science books she’d read were apparently ignorant. Afraid to break the spell, she tilted her head just enough to see his face from the corner of her eye.

  “Only two things matter in fencing.” He licked his lips, his chest rising and falling where it touched her shoulder. “Parry and attack, defend and thrust.”

  His head lowered in her direction and she held her expelled breath, waiting. Dalton’s law! He was going to kiss her.

  Her reply was more to her own thought than his instruction. “Yes.”

  “It’s like a dance. When I advance, you fall back. When I thrust, you parry.”

  She lifted her chin toward him, her eyes still on the spot where his fingers closed over hers. She couldn’t rid herself of the fear that, if she met his eye, the incredible energy sparking between them would fade—or worse, she would discover she’d imagined it. “Oh?”

  “Oh yes. We would move in opposition, yet perfect union.” His whispered words were near her cheekbone now, and she tilted her head a little further, trying to offer without offering.

  Snap.

  His head popped up and he took a step back, though his hand remained over hers. Cold air rushed in to send shivers along every bit of her as he abandoned it. Franklin stood, his gaze averted and his foot still on the broken branch.

  “Forgive me, but there are several ladies out for a walk this morning, and they are coming this direction,” Franklin whispered, as if Alison would not hear.

  Jonathan’s fingers gently slid from hers, taking the sword with them, and Alison thought of a few curses she would never dare to utter—the rare ones Papa reserved for when he missed a pheasant while hunting.

  “I don’t doubt that it will happen by the end of the party,” Charlotte said.

  Vallie’s voice joined Charlotte’s. “I would love to believe that, but I’m not as certain as you.”

  “Lady Alison.” He bowed, gathered his things, and left her to await her sister.

  Alone.

  Chapter Five

  The bright morning sun shone on the wide grassy lawn that made up the vast garden, though it didn’t cut the crisp chill. Footmen had assembled chairs and, bellies still full from the extensive breakfast, the guests sat or stood in a semi-circle before a delicate mahogany table.

  Papa walked to the table and faced the crowd of onlookers. “As I’m certain most of you know, tomorrow my daughter Alison is celebrating her birthday. Because of this, I’m issuing a challenge to the gentlemen here. You have five minutes in which to come up with, and obtain the items for, some feat which you will perform to make this a special occasion.”

  A murmur went through the crowd and Alison wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. The footmen standing by took orders from each of the gentlemen present, and several of the ladies nodded appreciatively.

  “How exciting.” Charlotte whispered from her chair behind Alison’s. “I wonder what feats we will see.”

  “You are about to see
me running for my bedchamber.” Alison returned the whisper. “I can’t believe Papa would insist on such a thing. There are married men here . . . and even though there are eligible men, I’m not certain any of them would wish to entertain me.”

  “Don’t be silly, Alison. You’re perfectly lovely. I only wish . . . “

  “What?” Alison turned to see Charlotte’s bright pink cheeks.

  “Nothing.” Charlotte gazed off for a moment, her eyes distant, then glanced up and the glum expression gave way to a mischievous grin. “It seems your distinguished future husband will entertain us first.”

  The baron tottered to the front and Alison pursed her lips at Charlotte. “Don’t tease. He could as easily be your future husband.”

  Charlotte wrinkled her nose and Alison faced forward, surveying the crowd. The duke, who stood off to one side of the seated crowd, slid a glance in Alison’s direction. She nodded to him, then turned her gaze to Jonathan, who stood with another footman, giving hasty orders.

  She clasped her hands together, suddenly very nervous. If only Jonathan’s experiment would help him to feel accomplished enough to marry—though the only cause she had to hope he would choose to marry her was the fact that he’d sought her out more often since the party began. He’d shown them how his experiments worked in the past, and that hadn’t been sufficient. She wished he could see the brilliance that she did. If she could just find a way to help him see that he didn’t have to be England’s most revered scientist to be worthy of a family. All he had to be was himself.

  Jonathan returned to his seat beside Alison and warmth covered her skin.

  The baron cleared his throat, adjusting the too-small spectacles on his nose. “If I might have the chair I requested, I shall sit here and share a story of daring and courage, in which I survived numerous perils in the wild countryside, nearly losing my life several times in the process.”

  The footman brought a chair forward and the baron rattled on and on about a trip where the greatest danger Alison could surmise was the slight chill of a slipped blanket and the occasional pit in the road.

  “And after the driver dodged the large rock in the road that nearly threw me from my seat, we arrived at our destination, astonishingly unharmed.” The baron gave a little nod as the crowd clapped politely, then returned to his seat in the front row.

  Several ladies yawned discreetly and Jonathan leaned in. “I do believe the baron has magical powers.”

  Alison pressed a hand to her breast where the pendant lay. “Magic?”

  “Most certainly. He has obviously mastered the art of casting sleeping spells.”

  Alison couldn’t fight her smile. “Well, I’m sure what you will show us will keep us awake. Can I ask what it might be?”

  “Oh no.” He folded his arms. “Not even a woman as lovely as you could make me divulge my secrets. You’ll just have to wait and wonder.”

  Her stomach fluttered and jumped, and the smile fell from her face. He’d never openly complimented her for her beauty. Of course, no man truly had. She snapped her gaze to the front of the group where Lord Ravenswood, Vallie’s new husband, readied his pistol as two footmen set targets at an incredible distance. When the footmen stepped away, he lifted his arm, took aim, and shot the center of the target.

  As Lord Ravenswood moved to the next target, Alison sat straight beside Jonathan. Her body seemed more aware of his now. The spot where their shoulders almost touched burned and tingled, and she could hardly breathe.

  As the last bullet met the center of the last target, the crowd applauded. Lord Ravenswood bowed and Vallie smiled up at him. For what seemed like an hour, other men showed off their archery and riding skills, but Alison couldn’t focus on anything other than how close Jonathan’s fingers were to hers and what it would feel like if she weren’t wearing so many skirts and their legs touched. That last thought made her cheeks burn from the moment the archery target was placed until the viscount bowed to the crowd and then his wife.

  Papa stepped forward. “I believe the footmen have finished setting up the course, so our next gentleman, His Grace, can show off his riding skills.”

  Alison regretfully pulled her gaze away from Jonathan. The stable master led a gargantuan black stallion to where the duke stood.

  “Hellion is still green, so please remain in your seats.” The duke’s gaze fell on Vallie then moved to Alison and Jonathan and his jaw clenched.

  Jonathan’s shoulders stiffened, and his hands fisted on his thighs. Had the men had words over something? Her mind was still fuzzy from the momentum of her thoughts, which had also run to the physical.

  The duke grabbed the reins and jumped effortlessly into the saddle.

  Alison’s cheeks became awfully warm, and she peeked at Jonathan who stared straight ahead, but his hands were holding his knees so tight, she could see the veins. She’d seen the rivalries men could engage in, and most were harmless, but she hated that Jonathan might feel less than another man when, in her eyes, Davy couldn’t compete. As far as she was concerned, he wasn’t just the best man, he was the only man.

  Jonathan couldn’t bring himself to turn toward Alison. Perhaps he should have chosen to fence for their entertainment. Though he’d never had much interest, he’d excelled in the sport. Father had always said it was the only thing Jonathan had ever done well.

  “Are you feeling well?” Alison asked.

  “Yes. I was thinking.” Thinking about what a jealous fool he was being, but he couldn’t seem to stop. The more time he spent with Alison, the more he felt as if he were competing with every man present. .

  The baron was little threat. Though he was looking for a bride, it might be more than he could manage to remain awake and avoid putting his potential bride to sleep. The Duke of Langley had more money and status than Jonathan ever would. Plus, whenever Jonathan turned his back, Langley was at Alison’s side, and the conversations between them were growing longer. But that didn’t mean Langley deserved her. Her scientific mind would waste away in his care.

  “Of your experiments?” she asked, breaking him from his thoughts.

  “Experiments?”

  “Yes, were you thinking of your experiments?”

  Langley’s stallion jumped a pile of rolled rugs and most of the group applauded.

  “Actually, I was thinking of the tournament your father is holding tomorrow. I’ve been considering joining. After all, I’d hate to spend an entire day separated from the group.”

  Alison clasped her hands in her lap in that adorably shy way of hers. He’d tried to show her his feelings for days, but either he was terrible at showing them, or she was terrible at understanding what he was showing. Probably a little of both. He’d considered grabbing her and kissing her more than once, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  “Yes, the competition does sound fascinating.” Alison smiled, tossing her hands in the air and letting them drop onto her lap. “But I’d much prefer an intellectual competition. Something where a man could show his knowledge and wit. To me, that is more important than any other feat.”

  Langley bounded over a hedge then urged his horse faster toward a spot where two chairs had been positioned, side-by-side.

  “It is?” Jonathan asked, trying to decipher if she truly meant it.

  She nodded, her smile soft. “Of course.”

  Her affection was palpable. The more time he spent with her, the more he could feel her attraction as well as he’d always felt his own, but that did not mean she would consent to marry him if she had the chance to become a duchess. She valued wit and intellect more than most other things, but would she value them more than such a title? Most ordinary women wouldn’t. Yet for all that she was, Alison was not an ordinary woman.

  He might just win her.

  The group began applauding and Jonathan returned his attention to the man who had apparently made his jump successfully. Alison clapped along with the others as the stallion returned to the stable master’s care, an
d Jonathan walked to the front of the group. Langley took a seat beside Alison and she smiled at him. With fisted hands, Jonathan moved around the table the footmen were placing before the group. He refused to be concerned, even with Langley leaning in to speak to Alison. He’d chosen an experiment that meant something to him. It was the first one he’d ever discovered, as a boy in school. It had shown him the magic of science, and now he would share it with Alison.

  Chapter Six

  “You’re a very skilled rider, Your Grace.” Alison fought to keep her eyes from moving to Jonathan’s back as he worked at the table, which had been moved very near to the guests.

  “I’ve been riding most of my life.” The Duke of Langley nodded stiffly. He’d become more comfortable over the course of his visit, and even broken many of the beliefs she held about him, but he still couldn’t seem to relax. The duke pushed a hand through his hair and gazed at Vallie and Lord Ravenswood. Their presence probably didn’t help to make him feel comfortable.

  Alison frowned and looked up toward the sun, which had just passed the noon position, but it didn’t give her a better response, so she said, “Yes, well, you’re very skilled.”

  Why couldn’t she seem to relax around the duke? He was agreeable enough. He’d never been entirely cruel that she had seen. Arrogant and entitled, certainly, but not cruel. Still, his severity was discomforting. She always felt as though she weren’t meeting his expectations. In truth, it wasn’t all together his fault. She seldom relaxed around anyone she didn’t know well, and if that person were male, it could take years. Even with Jonathan, it had taken her two visits to feel comfortable speaking with him at all, and she’d only been able to openly speak of her love of science during this visit, despite the fact that he’d apparently seen her understanding when he had spoken of it. Had he seen other things she’d tried to hide—such as how desperately she’d wanted that kiss when he had been teaching her fencing? The thought made her turn to Jonathan, who stood behind the table now.