The Stranger She Married (2 page)

More guests arrived steadily until the room grew quite crowded. To her relief, she did not see any of the men Uncle Willard demanded she consider as a husband. Most of them were far too old to attend such a function, but no doubt some would arrive later that evening.

It would be futile to resist them all; one of them would inevitably be her husband. Few gentlemen desired a plain orphan with only a small plot of land for a dowry. Alicia's only power in this predicament was to choose whom she thought she could bear to wed among the undesirable men interested enough to pay Uncle Willard's debts for her hand.

Elizabeth and Mrs. Hancock found her a moment later. “That must be him.” Excitement laced Mrs. Hancock's voice. “The viscount. Cole Amesbury."

Cole. What an unusual name. It invoked an image of dark elegance.

A silver-haired gentleman and a lady wearing a turban adorned with feathers descended the stairs. Although Alicia did not know them well, over the years she had developed a fondness for the gregarious Mr. Fitzpatrick and his wife, the outspoken, but kind, Mrs. Fitzpatrick.

Behind the Fitzpatricks strode a man who captured her attention.

The immaculate and expertly tailored clothing he wore exuded wealth, tastefully elegant without appearing overly concerned with fashion. Tanned from the sun, he made the other men in the room appear pale and ailing. His commanding, arrogant air promised he could be nothing less than a peer of the realm. Combined with the strong, square planes of his patrician face, and rich dark hair, he created a devastatingly handsome image.

A calculating edge colored Catherine's voice. “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick."

"Thank you,” replied Mr. Fitzpatrick. “Please allow me to introduce you to my nephew, Lord Amesbury."

In his black superfine, Lord Amesbury's tall, broad-shouldered frame mocked the physiques of every other gentleman present. He inclined his head politely, but with an air of detachment that extended beyond the fashionable, urbane boredom so many pinks of the
ton
attempted to emulate.

"I am delighted to make your acquaintance, Lord Amesbury,” Catherine purred.

Before Alicia heard the viscount's reply, another voice drew her attention. “Miss Palmer, I hoped you would be here.” That thin, nasally voice always set her teeth on edge.

In dismay, she turned from the paragon of masculinity to his perfect opposite. “Colonel Westin."

She was wrong; at least one of her unwanted suitors had indeed come tonight. The colonel always stood too close and she felt smothered in his presence. Alicia took a step back and opened her fan in a futile attempt to form a protective barrier between herself and the colonel.

"I enjoyed our visit last week, Miss Palmer. I look forward to another very soon.” Colonel Westin eyed Alicia much as a man might evaluate horseflesh at an auction.

She had no intention of spending another moment with the colonel, a sour, disagreeable old man. She couldn't imagine him as a heroic cavalry leader. But then, forty years ago, he might have been a formidable officer. He certainly bullied his servants with the authority of a general.

Alicia's gaze strayed back to the staircase. She started. Lord Amesbury stared directly at her with an intensity that sent a tremor through her stomach. His masculine beauty was almost painful, like looking at a handful of diamonds in the bright sunlight. Even at this distance, she could see the sharp brilliance of his blue eyes. As he moved through the crush, others gave away. His predatory grace mimicked that of a great cat, each movement deliberate, powerful, athletic, as if he held a vast reservoir of strength that lurked, coiled, ready to strike. Those piercing sapphire eyes remained fixed upon her with unnerving intensity.

Colonel Westin's voice interrupted her thoughts. “I don't dance, but I hope you'll honor me with a walk in the gardens later this evening.” His condescending tone suggested that she should be the one honored by his request, rather than he.

The Viscount Amesbury drew her gaze again. He now stood in a circle of guests as his aunt and uncle introduced him. His mouth twitched as if he suppressed a wry smile during the introductions. A dark eyebrow lifted slightly, suggesting that he found them mildly entertaining, but secretly laughed at them all.

"Miss Palmer. You are not attending me.” The colonel's tone grew irritated.

And Uncle Willard certainly would not approve of Alicia irritating any of her suitors, regardless of her feelings for them. Her entire family counted on her to marry well. And soon, or they all faced debtor's prison.

Oh, how had she become so trapped? The room became too warm, the crowd too close. She cast about for an avenue of escape and only then realized that Elizabeth and Mrs. Hancock were no longer with her.

Biting back an impolite response, Alicia offered what she hoped would be an apologetic smile. “Forgive me, Colonel.” She nearly choked on the words. “I would be pleased to take a turn about the garden with you. Appropriately chaperoned, of course. Would you excuse me, please? I believe Mrs. Hancock wants me."

The Colonel glared at her through his monocle.

Forcing herself to not run, Alicia curtseyed and wound her way through the revelers in search of Mrs. Hancock and Elizabeth. She had to remind herself to breathe. She had no desire to marry for money. She wanted to marry for love. Her parents had been in love; shouldn't she be granted the same privilege?

But, no. One well-placed bullet ripped from her everything she held dear.

Since the day Uncle Willard inherited her family estate, he stumbled through one business loss after another, gambled away what he didn't lose in unprofitable investments, and continued to spend as if he had the wealth of Midas, until they were nearly destitute. And worse, she had to face it without her best friend, her twin brother, the other half of her soul.

Alicia found Elizabeth and Mrs. Hancock speaking with Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick. Their stunning nephew, Lord Amesbury, stood with them. The light rippled across his rich, sable brown hair every time he turned his head. The chiseled planes of his face would be hard if he ever frowned, she decided, but his half-smile softened them. He seemed to view the evening's festivities as an amusing inconvenience, but made every attempt to be polite, if cool.

Mrs. Hancock beamed as Alicia reached her side. She put an arm around Alicia and brought her into their circle. “Miss Alicia Palmer, allow me to introduce Lord Amesbury."

Even more devastating up close, Lord Amesbury turned to her. His piercing blue eyes threatened the strength in her knees. Though taller than most ladies, Alicia still had to look up to meet his gaze. No other color existed in those eyes; no green or gray, only deep, dark blue, like the fathomless depths of the sea.

All the other men she had met lately, namely those her uncle insisted she consider for a husband, had taken careful note of her figure. But this gentleman only looked into her eyes. Very deeply.

Lord Amesbury inclined his head. “Miss Palmer.” His resonant, bass voice touched her very soul.

Alicia met his frank gaze and felt a stirring she did not quite understand. Breathing became a conscious effort. Mrs. Hancock discreetly coughed, and Alicia realized she'd been locked in eye contact with the Viscount much longer than appropriate.

Unable to pull her eyes away, Alicia sank into a curtsey. “My Lord."

No longer merely polite, his smile broadened, warmed, transforming an already handsome face into a perfectly stunning visage. Sensuality radiated off him, not in a manner that left her feeling threatened, but in a way that left her breathless for more. More of what, she did not know. But she wanted to find out.

"Miss Palmer, may I have the next dance?"

Alicia blinked. She looked back at Elizabeth who smiled encouragingly. Mrs. Hancock also smiled and nodded, but a touch of disappointment tainted her approval, reminding Alicia the dear lady had hoped her daughter would attract the attention of the very eligible Lord Amesbury. That he'd singled out Alicia seemed a dream.

She squelched all hope that she might hold his interest. Surely only politeness motivated him to dance with the plainest girl first. He'd soon turn his attention to the beautiful ladies.

Finding her voice, Alicia replied, “Thank you, Lord Amesbury. I would be honored."

As the final notes of the current dance ended and the next began, Lord Amesbury offered his arm. She took it, an unfamiliar quiver beginning in her stomach. The art of dancing, she found as the set began, had not abandoned her as completely as her wits. The handsome viscount danced with athletic grace, his attention focused upon her. The warmth of his hand seeped through their kidskin gloves. He held her gently, firmly.

A playful glint touched his sapphire eyes. “I must warn you. Now that we've danced, my aunt will take it upon herself to ask you your opinion of me. She will most certainly interrogate me regarding you."

She met those probing eyes and felt her mouth curve. “Oh? Is she your self-proclaimed matchmaker?"

A wry smile touched his lips. “Of course. I'm thirty and not yet married. She feels it her duty to ensure I produce an heir before I'm too old. Despite my efforts, she persists."

Alicia nodded, her smile deepening at his indelicate statement. “That is a dilemma."

"Since you and I have only just met, it will be difficult to offer a fair assessment of your character. And if I say anything positive about you, she'll plan the wedding.” His smile brightened, lighting up his stunning face.

Alicia missed her step. Even while dancing with the very handsome Duke of Suttenberg two Seasons ago, she had never felt such a keen attraction for a man. She was nearly twenty, for heaven's sake, not a missish debutante!

"Your aunt is a strong woman and a kind lady, my lord."

"I suppose she possesses a good heart deep, deep down inside, but be truthful; she's sharp-tongued and outspoken."

She laughed and then clapped her hand over her mouth. “My Lord! She might hear you."

He chuckled. “Fear not. We needle each other as frequently as possible. I say worse things to her face. I enjoy watching her squirm and plot a counter-attack."

That reminded her of the playful banter she shared with her cousin Robert. “I don't recall her ever mentioning you, my lord."

His smile turned self-deprecating. “I'm one of those relations no one mentions."

She laughed softly. “You're teasing me."

"No, but I dare not shock you with all of my misadventures."

"She has mentioned a nephew named Christian."

"My youngest brother. Everyone loves him.” A touch of rancor colored his voice.

As the dance pattern repeated, Alicia saw Elizabeth dancing with a young gentleman, who smiled at her with an adoring gaze. “Will you honor my friend Elizabeth Hancock with a dance this evening, Lord Amesbury?"

He raised an eyebrow and his lips pulled in a sardonic smile. “On the rare occasion that I invite a lady to dance, she doesn't normally ask me to seek out another."

"I didn't mean it that way. I only meant that there are a number of ladies in attendance who love to dance, and there is a shortage of men. I hope you will seek out others. Especially those who do not have many partners."

Alicia always felt sorry for the wallflowers, herself having been one more frequently than she cared to admit. And the brief flash of envy in Mrs. Hancock's eyes when Lord Amesbury asked her instead of Elizabeth to dance tugged at her conscience.

He glanced briefly at Elizabeth before returning his focus to Alicia. “Miss Hancock does not appear to be at a loss at the moment."

His eyes fixed upon Alicia so intently that she saw images of him becoming her fairy-tale prince charming, battling her unwanted suitors, rescuing her family, and then carrying her off to his castle. Under his unusually direct gaze, she had the impression he knew her hopes and fears.

She swallowed. “Yes, Elizabeth is so lovely, she's seldom without admirers.” A wistful tone crept into her voice.

His mouth twitched in amusement. She wondered if he found her truly diverting or if he merely thought her silly. But there did not appear to be anything scornful or mocking in his eyes.

"And you want me to have a look at your friend since I'm so eligible?"

"Ah...” Those vivid eyes made thinking difficult.

"Do you find me more suitable for her than for you, Miss Palmer?"

Sickened that the handsome and charming viscount would see her for what she was, Alicia resigned herself to the truth and met his gaze fully. “She is more suitable for a man of your station than I, my lord."

His dark brows raised. “Why is that?"

She fortified her courage. “She's lovely and has a substantial dowry. I have little to offer a husband."

There. She had confessed. Now her dream of this handsome gentleman rescuing her from all the undesirable men she must consider would come to an end.

A playful smile hovered at the corners of his mouth. “You are a fortune hunter?"

How quickly he cut to the truth! She could almost hear the crashing noises her sweet fantasy made as it fell. Biting her lip, she controlled the moisture that threatened her eyes.

"I am."

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Lord Amesbury's expression became guarded. “And why would you reveal that to a man with a fortune instead of merely pursuing him to attain your goal?"

Alicia looked away. “Because I don't want any misunderstanding. And I would never stand in the way of Elizabeth's happiness."

"If I told you I were a reprobate, would you still wish me to consider your friend?"

Her eyes flew to his. Was he needling her again? “No. If you were anything less than a perfect gentleman, then I certainly would not wish you anywhere near her."

He chuckled. “Then I promise to not only dance with your friend, but to conduct myself as a perfect gentleman at all times in her presence."

Alicia eyed him sharply, but his carefully honed façade revealed nothing about him that he did not wish to show. “Are you laughing at me, my lord?"