Fortune's Bride

by VICTORIA MALVEY

  "My lady?" The maid's soft call urged Alyssa to roll over and bid her to enter. As soon as Erin stepped into the room, she began to apologize profusely. "Beggin' your pardon, my lady, but Master Ian is here and he's insistin' that he speak with you right off."

  Undoubtedly to lecture her again on the dangers of wandering about the streets of London. Yawning, Atyssa climbed out of bed and, with Erin's assistance, got dressed. As she headed downstairs, Alyssa squelched the excitement swirling inside of her.

  "Good morning, Ian," she said as she stepped into Lady Eleanor's parlor. "It's a bit early for a social call, isn't it?"

  "I'm sorry for the early hour, but I had to see you." Leaving his position by the window, he held out a note. "When I arrived at my offices today, I found them ransacked and this missive was staked to the wall."

  Blinking, Alyssa accepted the note, read it swiftly, then looked back up at Ian. "Convince me to tell my fortunes? The next time they grab me?"

  "Covington's clearly not the author; he knows we're watching him. When we find who wrote the note, we'll find who reached for you at the Wirths' ball," Ian said, his expression grim.

  Questions slammed through her, but only one made it to her tips. "Why?"

  "I don't know," Ian admitted. "So, we need to try and piece everything together." Walking over to his aunt's secretary, he retrieved writing implements and began to jot down notes. "The first thing we can gather from that note is that it has to be someone who knew that all of the curses were simply a ruse."

  "Otherwise they wouldn't have approached you to convince me to continue 'playing,'" Alyssa concluded.

  "Precisely."

  "It must also be someone who benefits from my fortunes," Alyssa pointed out. "But I can't even begin to think who it might be."

  "The note also warned me to remain silent." He tapped the quill against the desk. "What could I possibly say about your fortunes that would cause someone to warn me off?"

  Trying to piece together the clues, Alyssa paced across the room. As she neared the window, her golden ring caught the morning sun, causing the metal to wink brightly at her.

  Golden.

  Spinning on her heel, she faced Ian. "I have the connection," she said in an excited rush. "Most of the gentlemen who sought my opinion inquired about one company in particular. Even Lord Covington had questions about that specific company."

  Ian's gaze sharpened. "Electrolytic Marine Mining Company."

  "That's the one," Alyssa agreed. "You were most vocal about your lack of trust in the company and even managed to convince a number of gentlemen not to invest." As she made the connection, all the pieces tumbled into place. "In fact, Lord Wirth questioned me about that company right before someone tried to grab me."

  "But wasn't that after you'd made your announcement that you would no longer tell fortunes?"

  "It most certainly was," Alyssa confirmed.

  "Perhaps the Electrolytic Marine Mining Company wanted you to continue with your fortunetelling. After all, you simply told those gents what they wanted to hear — and most of them wanted to believe that gold could be mined from the ocean."

  "Who wouldn't want to believe in that lovely idea?" Alyssa asked softly.

  "Ah, but that was the beauty of Jennings' scam," Ian began, setting down the quill and rising to his feet. "The mere idea of his company tempted even the most savvy investor. Think on how vast the oceans are, then imagine the wealth you would obtain if the seas could be mined."

  "A very clever scheme," Alyssa agreed.

  "And now it is time to confront Jennings with our theory."

  "Let's be off, then."

  Clasping Alyssa's arm, Ian pulled her to a stop. "I believe it might be best if you remain here, Alyssa."

  She laughed, then reached up to gently pat Ian's cheek. "You simply must rid yourself of this habit of deciding what is best for me, Ian." Walking across the foyer, Alyssa retrieved her shawl. "Let's not waste time arguing about whether or not I am accompanying you."

  Ian's fierce scowl did little to dissuade Alyssa. "And you have the nerve to call me stubborn," he grumbled as he followed her out the door.

  24

  The ornate exterior of Caleb Jennings' home made both Alyssa and Ian pause. "I'd say the Electrolytic Marine Mining Company is profitable for Jennings," Ian murmured as he rapped with the heavy brass knocker.

  When no one answered immediately, Alyssa glanced at Ian. "It is awfully early to call upon someone."

  He stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. "We believe this man is behind the tossing of my office, your near abduction, and cheating half the ton out of their monies... yet you're concerned about waking him?"

  And Ian was perfectly correct, Alyssa realized. Tilting her chin up, she reached out and slammed the knocker down four additional times for good measure.

  "Now that's the Alyssa Porter I like to see."

  Before she could reply, the front door cracked open, "Wot are ye doin' bangin'—"

  "We need to see Mr. Jennings immediately," Ian stated firmly.

  "Now see 'ere—"

  "It's all right, Albert," said a voice from inside the house. "You can show Mr. Fortune into my study."

  Grumbling about the peculiarities of nobility, Albert shuffled ahead of Ian and Alyssa, before jabbing his hand toward an open doorway. "Get in wi' ya."

  The butler's poor manners were at odds with the flawless interior of Jennings' home. As Alyssa stepped into the study, she immediately noticed Jennings standing in front of the window with his back toward them. Though he still wore his elegant evening clothes, they were now rumpled and looking worse for wear. Jennings swirled the amber liquor in his glass once before lifting it to his mouth and draining the contents with one swallow. "I've been expecting you, Mr. Fortune," he admitted before turning to face them. "Ah, and Lady Alyssa as well. Now you are a surprise."

  "Unfortunately, not a pleasant one," she murmured softly.

  "Most unfortunate." Heading toward the sideboard, Jennings poured himself another drink. "Have you sent for the magistrate yet?"

  "For whom?" Ian asked. Alyssa could tell by the wary note in Ian's voice that the question had caught him off-guard.

  "Why, Arthur, of course." Jennings lifted the decanter. "Care to join me in a drink?"

  "No," Ian refused bluntly, before heading back to the conversation at hand. "Why would I send the magistrate to Ryan?"

  Surprise widened Jennings' gaze. "Because he destroyed your office... as well as tried to snatch this lovely lady out of a crowded ballroom."

  "That was Ryan behind the flowers?" Alyssa asked.

  He nodded sadly. "I'm afraid so, and I can only offer my apologies for not seeing his true nature until it was too late." Moving toward his desk, Jennings picked up a slip of paper. "This is Arthur's address." His hand shook as he held it out to Ian. "Please be kind to him," Jennings pleaded.

  "I shall do my best," Ian promised. "Shall we leave this gentleman to enjoy the morning, Alyssa?"

  Hearing the false note in Ian's voice, Alyssa wondered what he was up to now. Still, she trusted him enough to play along. She'd almost reached the door when Ian touched her elbow, bringing her to a stop.

  "There is just one thing that troubles me, Jennings," Ian said, his brows drawn together in contusion. "You see, I had an opportunity to hear Mr. Ryan speak the other night, and he struck me as not being particularly bright." He smiled pleasantly at Jennings. "Certainly not clever enough to have conceived this scheme all on his own."

  Jennings' lips twisted in derision. "The man ruined your offices," he reminded Ian. "That is hardly what I'd call the move of an intelligent man."

  "Agreed," Ian said without a moment's hesitation. "But then you should consider the fact that he wouldn't even have been in that position if someone hadn't carefully placed him there."

  'To take the blame," Alyssa finished with a flour-ish, noting with satisfaction the expression of panic flickering across Jennings' features.

&n
bsp; "Precisely," Ian said succinctly. "And I'm quite cer-tain that a search of this house would uncover a second set of books. This new set would, of course, reflect that the entire company was a clever swindle."

  Jennings dropped his facade. "And what if it did? What if a thorough search would even turn up a draft copy of the note left in your office?" Smirking, he shrugged in completely disregard for his crimes. "I've nothing to worry about, for by the time you or your lovely companion fetch a magistrate, my books and I will be long gone," he finished with a triumphant laugh.

  At that moment, they heard a loud demand to be allowed into the town house. Turning toward Jennings, Ian murmured, "Did I mention that before I arrived I sent a note around asking the magistrates to meet me here?"

  Raw fury shifted into Jennings' expression.

  Ian drove the point home. "I'm certain you and the magistrate will find much to talk about, don't you?"

  "Damn you, Fortune," he ground out in raw anger. "You just had to stick your nose into my business, didn't you?"

  Unfazed, Ian simply smiled. "I suppose I did."

  * * *

  After Ian escorted Alyssa home, he explained all that had transpired to his aunt. Standing there, listening to him bid Lady Eleanor farewell, Alyssa knew it was their last good-bye as well.

  "I shall keep you posted on the magistrate's case against Jennings and Ryan," Ian promised them. "After speaking with Sir Connor, I feel confident those two won't be tree to cheat anyone else for a very long time."

  "Let's pray so." Glancing at Alyssa, Lady Eleanor leaned forward to press a kiss upon Ian's cheek. "Please excuse me, Ian. I really should see what is keeping Calla this morning. It wouldn't do to allow her to become a lazy bugabed."

  "No, it wouldn't," Ian agreed with a grin. "And I want you to know that I am agreeing with you even though I don't have any idea what a bugabed is."

  His aunt laughed as she headed upstairs. Alyssa smiled fondly after Lady Eleanor. "You make her happy."

  "As do you and Calla," he replied without a moment's hesitation.

  "Thank you." Looking at him, Alyssa felt her heart tighten. "Thank you for all you've done, Ian. Just knowing you has enriched our lives."

  His smile dimmed as she finished her statement. "I shall call upon you in a few days to bring you the latest news about Jennings."

  What Ian failed to realize was she would be long gone.

  * * *

  It had taken him the better part of yesterday and today, but Ian felt his offices were finally back to normal.

  "Excuse me, sir..." Ian's assistant said as he peered around the door. "But there—"

  "By God, I'm his grandfather."

  And with that, in strode the Duke of Hammond. To hide his shock, Ian leaned back in his chair. "I never thought I'd see the day when your esteemed per-sonage would darken my door."

  "I expected your brash comments, so no need to waste your breath upon me." The duke wandered farther into the room. "Most impressive," he murmured reluctantly.

  "Thank you," Ian said. "Though I must admit, I'm uncertain as to why you're here."

  "Can't a man express an interest in his grandon's business?" he said in a low, gruff voice. Peering over ian's shoulder, the duke pointed to the figure at the bottom of the ledger. "Pounds? You make this many pounds in a month?"

  "No, in a week," Ian corrected.

  The duke sucked in a swift breath. "Good God!" He looked at the figure once again. "Maybe there is something to this working for a living, after all."

  Ian smiled at his grandfather's reaction. "And that was a slow week."

  "Slow?" Respect glinted in the duke's eyes. "What did you say your business is again?"

  Before Ian could reply, he heard a commotion out in the foyer. "This is odd," he began, "I've been in these offices for over five years and in all that time I've only had a handful of visitors." He glanced back at his grandfather. "Now I have two in one day."

  Business must be booming.

  Fighting the urge to laugh, Ian rose to his feet when Lady Eleanor burst into the room.

  A derisive scoff escaped the duke. "It's not a business associate at all." He waved a hand toward Eleanor. "It's only family."

  Only family. Warmth pierced Ian as he rounded his desk and pressed a kiss onto his aunt's flushed cheek. "Aunt Eleanor," he murmured politely. "What a pleasant surprise."

  Flustered, she straightened her hat. "I just wish my visit were under more pleasant circumstances."

  "Is something amiss?" Ian asked, hearing the distress in his aunt's statement.

  "It's Alyssa."

  A groan broke from the duke. "What's that girl gone and done now?" he demanded.

  His aunt's hand fluttered toward her chest. "She's leaving."

  Ian froze. "Leaving? For where?"

  "For the country... and she doesn't plan to return to town." His aunt fixed her gaze upon him. "You simply must do something, Ian."

  "Don't worry, Aunt Eleanor," Ian reassured her, the warmth inside of him gone at the thought of losing Alyssa. "She won't be going anywhere."

  "Ah, so you like my choice after all, do you, Ian?"

  Wincing at the gloating tone in his grandfather's voice, Ian turned to face the duke, but before he could utter a word, his aunt replied first.

  "Do be quiet, Regis," she snapped. "You're not helping the situation."

  Retrieving his jacket, Ian shrugged into it, "Is Alyssa at your home?"

  "No, she and Calla went to Lady Heath's garden party," his aunt explained. "I pleaded a headache and rushed over to your house as soon as they'd left. Your butler directed me here."

  "Would you care to accompany me to Lady Heath's?" Ian offered.

  "We're all going, Ian," pronounced the duke as he stepped out the door. "This is, after all, family business."

  If he hadn't been so terrified at the thought of losing Alyssa, Ian was quite certain that pronouncement would have struck terror in his heart. But at the moment, he had far more important things to worry about.

  * * *

  Disgruntled, Ian sipped at his punch, prepared to wait all afternoon if need be to speak privately with Alyssa. The moment he'd arrived, he'd approached her, but she'd evaded him, flittering from one group of ladies to the next. Though the urge to separate her from the pack and claim her for his own pulsed through him, he fought for control. The last thing he wanted was yet another scene.

  Instead, he settled back in his chair and prepared for a long wait, comforting himself with the thought that she couldn't avoid him forever.

  * * *

  "Why the devil is he just sitting there?" demanded the duke.

  "Because Alyssa rebuffed his efforts to speak privately with him," Eleanor pointed out. "She undoubtedly knows why he wishes a word with her and isn't in the mood for an argument."

  "Too bloody bad for her." Glancing around the lawn, the duke fixed his gaze upon Lady Covington.

  Noticing his attention shift, Eleanor placed a hand upon the duke's arm. "What are you planning to do?"

  "Motivating my grandson into getting off his backside and fixing this situation."

  Her fingers tightened. "You will cause a scene," she warned.

  "If I end up with a granddaughter, I believe it a small price to pay." The duke shrugged off Eleanor's hold. "Wouldn't you agree?"

  "Lead the way," Eleanor replied, slipping her arm through his.

  Lady Covington smiled at them. "Your grace, Lady Eleanor, how delightful to see you both."

  "The pleasure is ours," the Duke replied smoothly. "In feet, I'm relieved to see you here."

  Lady Covington caught the hint. "Relieved?"

  "Indeed," he said, leaning forward to inspire confidence. "I felt it necessary to tell you that this morning Lady Alyssa mentioned she needed to speak with you."

  "She did?" Lady Covington pressed a hand to her cheek. "Whatever for?"

  "I'm not quite certain, but I believe it has something to do with her tea."

  A sli
ght frown drew Lady Covington's brow downward. "Her tea?"

  Lady Eleanor eased into the conversation. "More specifically, her tea leaves. Gypsies, as you know, often see messages in the residue of tea leaves."

  "And she saw something about me?" squeaked Lady Covington.

  The duke nodded. "I'm afraid so," he said regretfully. "Perhaps you should go speak with Lady Alyssa and ask her to read your palm. After all, palm reading is far more reliable a source for fortunetelling than tea leaves."

  Lady Covington bit her lower lip. "But I thought Lady Alyssa announced she would no longer be telling fortunes."

  "That's true," the duke responded. "However, since this is a most unusual circumstance, I believe you should be most insistent when you ask her to read your palm."

  "You might also want to wait until Lady Alyssa mentions the tea leaves," suggested Eleanor. "I wouldn't want her to think I betrayed her confidence. But since her tea revealed something about you, my dear friend, how could I do less?"

  "Thank you." Lady Covington's gratitude was heartfelt.

  They both watched Lady Covington rush over to Alyssa and thrust a palm under her nose. "That was wicked of us," Eleanor admitted.

  The lack of remorse in her voice made the duke smile. 'True," he murmured, smiling in satisfaction as Ian caught his first glimpse of Alyssa telling Lady Cov-ington's fortune, "but highly effective."

  As they watched Ian charge across the lawn with an annoyed expression, Eleanor conceded the point. "Is it a burden to always be right?"

  The duke simply chuckled in response.

  Eleanor smiled up at her brother. "Might I help you plan the wedding, Regis?"

  25

  "Pardon me, Lady Covington," Ian began the moment he neared Alyssa, "but Lady Alyssa has decided not to tell fortunes anymore." Smiling politely at the older woman, he murmured, "I'm certain you understand why, with all the trouble it's brought her."

  Pulling back her hand, Lady Covington looked upset. "I would never wish to bring harm to Lady Alyssa."

  "And you won't," Alyssa said immediately, pausing to glare at Ian. "If it would relieve your mind, I would be more than happy to read your palm,"