In Need of a Duke (The Heart of a Duke Book 1) by Christi Caldwell
Authors: Christi Caldwell
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tightly fisted hands. She studied the thin green bulging vein that spoke of the tension radiating throughout her body. Michael’s past hadn’t mattered to her…and yet, it had too. It had to for reasons that had nothing to do with her own happiness but her siblings’ security. “You don’t understand.” Her words sounded lame to her own ears.
“I think I do.”
His immediate reply brought her head swiftly up. There was a gentleness in his eyes when he spoke. “I’m aware of your family’s circumstances.”
“Oh.” She closed her eyes wanting to blot out this humiliation. She and Mother had thought they’d been so skillful, so clever in concealing the truth and yet here it was, public knowledge to the ton . She wanted to wilt beneath the frayed Aubusson carpet that served as another stark reminder of their financial woes.
“You are hardly to blame for your father’s poor decisions. Just as I’m not to blame for my father’s decision to banish Michael.” His gaze skittered to a point beyond her shoulder, to a place she suspected he could see only in his mind. “And yet, I know what it is to live with the guilt of actions that had nothing to do with me.” When he returned his eyes to her, they were glacial blue and emotionally detached. “But this is your choice, Lady Aldora. If you reject Michael, you are doing so of your own volition, and I imagine that would be very, very difficult to carry with you for the rest of your days.”
The weight of his words settled in her heart, affirming the truth she already knew. Aldora reached up and touched the tips of two fingers against the gold pendant that hung from her neck. It radiated hot and heavy against her flesh, pulsating a steady rhythm. The words Valera had uttered to Aldora on the day of her wedding to the Earl of Ravenswood drifted through her memory. “I’m marrying the man of my dreams today, Aldora. And that necklace is going to lead you to the man of yours, too.”
The pendant had done just that. It had brought her to Michael.
Aldora had been so desperate to make a powerful match that dreams of finding the love Valera had with the Earl of Ravenswood had seemed like nothing more than a child’s dream. Only now, with the Marquess of St. James before her, Aldora realized she didn’t want to sacrifice her happiness for her family. She wanted Michael with a selfish, self-serving longing. Michael’s brother was correct; if she made the decision to forsake Michael, she would live with an aching painful regret.
Aldora forced her hand back to her lap. She didn’t need the old gypsy woman’s reminder. She knew what was in her heart and God forgive her, Michael was her fate.
She waited for the guilt, and yet this time it did not come.
Her sisters were beautiful. They were accomplished. They would make matches. Her brother was certainly young enough to weather the scandal when her father’s failings were privy to all of Society.
The marquess cleared his throat.
Aldora looked up at him.
“I imagine you are concerned with your father’s—”
She nodded curtly, effectively ending his words. She didn’t need him to finish the sentence. The fact that he and others knew of her family’s shame raked like hot coals along her skin.
“My brother has enough money—”
“I do not love your brother for his money,” she snapped.
The marquess angled his head. “Love?”
Aldora nodded. “I love—”
A loud commotion from outside the room jerked her attention to the door.
Her mother’s high-pitched screeching effectively buried whatever it was she was prattling on about.
“Where is she?” a deep baritone thundered from somewhere within the house.
Aldora leapt to her feet. Her heart raced in her chest as Michael’s brother dissolved into an afterthought of her periphery.
She raced to the door and collided hard against the wall of Michael’s chest. Her spectacles popped off her nose and skittered across the floor. His image blurred.
A
“I think I do.”
His immediate reply brought her head swiftly up. There was a gentleness in his eyes when he spoke. “I’m aware of your family’s circumstances.”
“Oh.” She closed her eyes wanting to blot out this humiliation. She and Mother had thought they’d been so skillful, so clever in concealing the truth and yet here it was, public knowledge to the ton . She wanted to wilt beneath the frayed Aubusson carpet that served as another stark reminder of their financial woes.
“You are hardly to blame for your father’s poor decisions. Just as I’m not to blame for my father’s decision to banish Michael.” His gaze skittered to a point beyond her shoulder, to a place she suspected he could see only in his mind. “And yet, I know what it is to live with the guilt of actions that had nothing to do with me.” When he returned his eyes to her, they were glacial blue and emotionally detached. “But this is your choice, Lady Aldora. If you reject Michael, you are doing so of your own volition, and I imagine that would be very, very difficult to carry with you for the rest of your days.”
The weight of his words settled in her heart, affirming the truth she already knew. Aldora reached up and touched the tips of two fingers against the gold pendant that hung from her neck. It radiated hot and heavy against her flesh, pulsating a steady rhythm. The words Valera had uttered to Aldora on the day of her wedding to the Earl of Ravenswood drifted through her memory. “I’m marrying the man of my dreams today, Aldora. And that necklace is going to lead you to the man of yours, too.”
The pendant had done just that. It had brought her to Michael.
Aldora had been so desperate to make a powerful match that dreams of finding the love Valera had with the Earl of Ravenswood had seemed like nothing more than a child’s dream. Only now, with the Marquess of St. James before her, Aldora realized she didn’t want to sacrifice her happiness for her family. She wanted Michael with a selfish, self-serving longing. Michael’s brother was correct; if she made the decision to forsake Michael, she would live with an aching painful regret.
Aldora forced her hand back to her lap. She didn’t need the old gypsy woman’s reminder. She knew what was in her heart and God forgive her, Michael was her fate.
She waited for the guilt, and yet this time it did not come.
Her sisters were beautiful. They were accomplished. They would make matches. Her brother was certainly young enough to weather the scandal when her father’s failings were privy to all of Society.
The marquess cleared his throat.
Aldora looked up at him.
“I imagine you are concerned with your father’s—”
She nodded curtly, effectively ending his words. She didn’t need him to finish the sentence. The fact that he and others knew of her family’s shame raked like hot coals along her skin.
“My brother has enough money—”
“I do not love your brother for his money,” she snapped.
The marquess angled his head. “Love?”
Aldora nodded. “I love—”
A loud commotion from outside the room jerked her attention to the door.
Her mother’s high-pitched screeching effectively buried whatever it was she was prattling on about.
“Where is she?” a deep baritone thundered from somewhere within the house.
Aldora leapt to her feet. Her heart raced in her chest as Michael’s brother dissolved into an afterthought of her periphery.
She raced to the door and collided hard against the wall of Michael’s chest. Her spectacles popped off her nose and skittered across the floor. His image blurred.
A