In Need of a Duke (The Heart of a Duke Book 1) by Christi Caldwell Read Free Book Online

rays upon the grass, considering Lady Aldora.
    What was it about her that made him wish his life had turned out differently?
    Having met Lady Aldora, Michael felt more than a mere flicker of interest in something other than the material world. Except this was no mere flicker.
    The things he’d never before considered; a wife, a family, social acceptance, filled him with a longing for something more than the empty world of ledgers and profit.
    After all, gold made for a poor bedfellow. It wasn’t warm and supple and full of laughter. It didn’t wear spectacles.
    Yet, as much as he longed for Lady Aldora, she wasn’t for him and he could no longer lie to her. He was a murderer. A shame to his family’s name.
    But he was no liar.
    He’d allowed this charade to go on long enough. The time for games was at an end. Michael couldn’t let her continue to believe he was another man. It was unforgiveable, and he’d been driven by purely selfish desires—a desire for the young lady herself.

Chapter Four

    “ W hat did you tell my mother?” Aldora whispered.
    Valera slanted a probing glance in her direction. “I told her you were in the retiring room. Did you really lose your spectacles?”
    Aldora pulled the mud-splattered spectacles from her reticule and held it up for her friend’s inspection.
    “Hmm,” Valera muttered, her tone indicated that she was far from convinced.
    Regardless, amidst the bustling crowd of Lord and Lady Aldridge’s ballroom was hardly the place to address her friend’s very real concerns.
    Aldora fought the feeling of being a child who’d disappointed her mother. She’d make no apologies for pursuing the marquess. She was justified in ways that Valera didn’t, and couldn’t, understand. But oh, how Aldora wished for someone to share her burden. Sometimes it felt like the world and all of its troubles had been placed squarely upon her shoulders, and she was sinking under the weight of it.
    Then she’d met St. James, no, Michael, and miracle of miracles, the man she’d set her sights upon had intrigued her more than any other. Prior to having landed squarely at his feet in Hyde Park, she had prayed that they would prove compatible. That same day they’d met, the marquess had not only captured her interest, he’d made her feel a maelstrom of emotions from amusement to annoyance.
    Valera drew to a stop beside a white Doric column and took Aldora by the arm.
    “Oh dear,” Valera whispered.
    Aldora shook her head, dislodging thoughts of him, even as her eyes darted around the hall for his six-foot three frame. Had he returned from the gardens? She’d venture he remained outside to give a much needed distance between her and his appearance. “What is it?”
    “You are beyond smitten with the marquess.”
    She peeked around to see if anyone had overheard her friend’s outrageous, albeit true, charge.
    “I am not.” Except Aldora’s tone hardly sounded convincing to her own ears.
    “Then you won’t care that he’s coming this way now.”
    Aldora’s pulse kicked up a staccato rhythm and her hand fluttered to her heart. From across the room, he entered the main hall. His long strides stripped away the distance between them, his movements as purposeful as an avenging warrior of old storming the keep and saving the lady of the tower. Michael drew to a halt in front of her.
    Aldora’s gaze climbed up every inch of his lean, well-muscled form. He possessed a strength and power that was paid homage by artists and sculptors. There was nothing about him that looked marquess-like.
    He bent low at the waist. “If this dance has not yet been claimed, would you do me the honor of joining me?”
    Valera’s gasp blended with the strum of the orchestra at the marquess’s request.
    She didn’t need to even glance at her empty dance card to confirm this set was in fact free.
    Valera placed her hand on Aldora’s arm in a protective way.
    Aldora shrugged her free. “Yes, my lord.” She touched