by Wendy Vella
It was a sobering thought to think of the world without the large, dominating presence of Lord Wooller, but one Alex hoped they did not have to contemplate for quite some time. He knew that his heart was weak, but hoped it would stay beating for many years to come. How would he take the news that he and Hannah were actually not going to one day marry, in light of this conversation?
“It shall be my life’s work to care for your daughters, but please remember, Woolly, that neither Hannah nor I have yet discussed marriage.”
“Nonsense, everyone knows marriage is in your future, or you would not have spent so much time together. It is the way of things.”
Hannah had been right when she said society was fast seeing them wed. Perhaps it was time to end it?
“If you will excuse me, I have promised this dance to Hannah,” Alex said as the music finished. He needed to make his escape before they pressed as to when he would ask for Hannah’s hand. Making his way through the other guests, he intercepted her and Ben.
“My dance, I believe.” He gave his brother a look that made Ben smile, as if he knew Alex was jealous. They had fought over many women in their lives, but for some reason the thought of his brother and Hannah together made him furious. Taking Hannah’s hand, he led her to the floor.
“I’m not sure we should dance again, Alex, especially as we are to finish this soon, as I told you in the carriage on the way here.”
“You decided that, Hannah, and if you remember I told you we would let it run its course until the season ends,” Alex said, wondering why he did not just agree with her, as his thoughts had been exactly that minutes ago.
Placing a hand on her back, he took her fingers in his and began to waltz her down the room with the other guests. She was light on her feet, and beautiful in the pale apple-blossom-colored dress.
“That is a much better color on you.”
“Better than what?” she said, looking around.
“The horse excrement dress you wore the other day.” Leaning forward slightly, he inhaled her scent and his body tightened.
“Did you just smell my hair?”
“No, I was enjoying your scent.”
“You’ve never sniffed me before.”
“I am not a dog, Hannah, and I sniffed you, as you inelegantly put it, because you smell good.”
She lowered her head and sniffed his neck. “You also smell all right.”
“Damned by faint praise.”
“Your ego needs no further attention, Mr. Hetherington, as it is already inflated enough.”
“Harsh. Can I help it if people like me?”
“I don’t like you.”
“Of course you do, otherwise you would not have chosen me to be your beau.” He whispered the words into her ear and was delighted when she shivered. “In fact, it’s my belief that you secretly like me more than just a little, especially considering the kisses we have shared.”
She looked up at him so fast her head connected with his nose.
“Ouch!”
“You deserved that for flirting with me.”
“Surely there must be some flirting, seeing as our love is growing.”
Her sigh was weighty. “This is not a teasing matter, Alex, and there will definitely be no more kissing.”
“No teasing or flirting, no kissing, where is the fun in that?”
“Ben told me that he knows of our charade, Alex, and that he is our ally, which is unsettling, as I had believed he would be furious over my behavior.”
“Once I explained everything to him he said he would do what he could to aid us until we end this… whatever the hell it is,” Alex added, looking down at Hannah. He could see the swells of her breasts this close, and thought again how beautiful her skin was and how warm it had felt against his fingers.
“Oh well, that is very good of him, considering I am abusing his brother’s good nature.”
“I have a good nature now?”
“Sometimes you have a good nature, but you do curse a great deal more than you used to.”
“You bring out the worst and best in me.”
“That’s not a compliment, is it?”
“You dance beautifully, Hannah.” Alex ignored her question.
“Thank you, Alex, but no one is listening.”
“I mean it. For pity’s sake, woman, can you not just accept a compliment from me without question?”
“Probably not,” she said. “Lady Tillerby is not pleased that you have settled for a lady such as me, Alex. She and her daughter will be very happy when our situation is rectified.”
The horror on his face was real. “Do you loathe me so much you would see me with Lavinia Tillerby?”
“It is not her fault she has a mother who has a taste for the dramatic. Lavinia would be vastly different, I assure you, if she was ripped from her mother’s skirts.”
Alex shuddered. “I have no wish to test your theory. I saw Cheatley conversing with Lavinia earlier. Now there’s a match for you. Cheatley only hears every second word and as long as he is fed, watered, and allowed to romp around his land, then he is a happy man.”
Hannah giggled. The sound was sweet and lighthearted, something she had rarely been of late. “Conversing with Lord Cheatley is definitely no easy feat, I agree.”
“I would rather converse with my horse.”
She hummed her agreement.
“I just had a conversation with Woolly, Hannah. He is a beaten man. Surely it is time to forgive him?”
“May I remind you that we are at present in this position because of his manipulations.”
“He is your father and believed he was doing right by you, no matter how misguided. It is time to let your anger toward him go, Hannah.”
“I will think about it.”
Alex decided not to push her any further; it was enough that she had agreed to consider the matter.
“Alex, did you just look down my bodice?”
“Yes, and you have a small piece of carrot wedged between your breasts. Should I get it out for you?”
Alex chuckled as she looked down.
“You are really quite wicked, aren’t you?” She looked up at him once more. “In fact, I’m not sure I really know you at all.”
“I did touch them earlier, so forgive me if what I’m about to say is offensive, but you have lovely—”
“Alex!”
“Skin,” he added. “Soft and warm and silken to the touch.”
“I cannot believe you are actually speaking to me this way, and in a public setting.”
“You would rather I did so in private? Surely that would be no good for either of us, considering what took place in the carriage on the way here.”
He couldn’t help teasing her. It was wholly inappropriate, Alex knew that, but he saw the answering smile in her eyes. She was enjoying their flirtation as much as he was, no matter how much she denied it.
“I have no wish to continue this conversation anywhere,” she said, and as the music chose that moment to finish, he escorted her back to where Phoebe still sat, looking stunning in a burgundy gown.
“I simply must know who made that dress, Lady Levermarch,” Alex said loudly, drawing looks from the women standing closest.
Phoebe rolled her eyes but played along. “Yes, it is from Madame Alexander’s. I will allow no one but her to clothe me now.”
“It’s the price you pay for being clothed for free, sister-in-law,” he whispered before bowing to Hannah and Phoebe then taking his leave to seek his next dance partner, which he was loath to do, because if he was honest, he wanted to dance with Hannah again and have her in his arms for the remainder of the evening. What the hell was happening to him?
He knew he and Hannah were the current talk of the town, and also knew that would not last long, as someone else would do something to usurp them in the eyes of society soon.
Alex danced, smiled, and tried not to look for Hannah as the evening wore on. The problem was, he couldn’t seem
to stop. He knew who she danced with and when, and her expression told him if she was happy with her partner or not. At least she did not have to contend with McDonald.
“Alex.”
“Ben,” he said when his brother appeared at his side.
“I was with Hannah when a servant appeared with a note, and then she said she had to go, but didn’t leave by the doorway. Instead she headed for the terrace, which is odd, don’t you think?”
“When?”
“About fifteen minutes ago.”
“And you are only telling me now?”
“I couldn’t find you, but in my defense I kept looking.”
Alex started toward the doors that lead to the terrace. “Did you not think to follow her?”
“Tried that also, and lost her. She was there on the terrace and suddenly gone. So I searched the grounds, then back inside to the rooms off the terrace, and they yielded no Hannah.”
Alex grunted his thanks as the panic started to slither up his spine. Where was she?
“If that is your pitiful attempt at thank you, then I think you could try harder, as I missed my dance with Miss Keaton because I was searching for your beloved.”
Ben’s fringe flopped over his forehead and his shirt collar had started to curl. He had never been what you would term an elegant dresser, but Alex knew of no better man than his twin.
“Something is a foot with Hannah, Ben. This is the third note she’s received that I know of. The first she tried to hide from me and fell in the Serpentine, the second she put down her bodice, then when I threatened to remove it she fled, running out of Madame Alexander’s so I would not take it from her, and now this.”
Once on the terrace, Alex studied the guests out there, then walked the length, checking corners and shadows, but he did not find her.
“You tried to remove something from her bodice?”
“Concentrate, Ben, we must find Hannah.” Alex battled the tension mounting inside him. Was she in danger even now? “I will take the stairs and start looking around the grounds, while you continue to look here and then go back inside to check she has not returned.”
“You fear for her, brother?”
“Aye,” Alex said.
“If I do not find her up here, I shall follow you into the gardens.” Ben ran one way, Alex the other.
The paths were lit with torches but it was still hard to distinguish one guest from another. The further he walked, the fewer guests he encountered, until there was just the sound of his booted feet crunching on the stones. Around him torches flickered, forming shadows among the bushes and trees. Where the hell was she?
The path opened into a courtyard. In the middle was a small fountain. Alex walked closer and peered in for no other reason than he could, while he thought about Hannah’s disappearance. Was she in danger?
A sound made him turn, but something hit him hard on the back of the head. Staggering slightly, he did not go down, but feared he was about to be hit again when he heard more footsteps.
“Alex!”
“Ben.” He managed the word, and then stumbled to his knees. His brother reached his side as he lost consciousness.
He woke to a cold cloth resting on his forehead and the worried faces of his brothers and Hannah looking down at him.
“Hannah!” He lifted a hand toward her as he tried to sit up. His relief at seeing her told him he needed to ask her something, but he couldn’t remember what it was.
“Alex, sssh, don’t talk, please.” She squeezed his hand and he subsided back onto the sofa.
“If you will ride home with your father, Hannah, I will have the carriage called and Phoebe and I will take him home,” Alex heard Finn say in a tight angry voice. He heard the rage his elder brother was battling to contain. “I want whoever is responsible for this, Lord Gemmell.”
“I shall of course start asking questions of both my guests and staff at once, Lord Hetherington.”
“Finn.” Alex reached for the hand Finn had braced on the back of the sofa he lay on. “I’m all right.”
His fingers were gripped hard before Finn released them. “You could have been killed, Alex, and I want the culprit found.”
Alex was too tired to argue, so instead he reached for Hannah. She moved closer, resting her hand on his shoulder, which gave him more comfort than the simple gesture should. She was becoming important to him, but right now he could not manage to think further than that.
“If you will alert my father, please, that I will be accompanying him home,” she said to someone. Her voice sounded weak, as if it were she who had suffered a blow to the head.
“Hannah, I will be all right,” Alex tried to reassure her.
“Sssh now, Alex, be quiet and still.” The cool touch of her fingers felt wonderful on his aching head.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered. “We need to talk tomorrow.”
“Yes.” She bent to brush a kiss on his cheek, then push the hair from his forehead. Alex felt her fingers tremble, and then she was gone, and he had no strength to call her back.
His brothers helped him to the carriage, and by the time he rested inside he was nauseous.
“If I wish to be ill, can I use your hat, Ben?”
“What’s wrong with yours?”
“It’s new.” Alex tried to sound outraged but instead sounded pathetic.
“Well, if you are sick in mine I shall simply take yours.”
“You may be sick in my shawl, Alex; it’s a hideous color and I have no idea why I let you convince me it went with this dress,” Phoebe said, trying to smile but failing. She’d been crying, and her face was pale, and her love for him humbled Alex.
“I’m all right, sister-in-law, I promise you… all of you,” he said, looking at Finn’s gritted jaw and Ben’s clenched fists.
“Do you remember anything, Alex?”
“No, but I saw that man again earlier, Finn, the one who I had believed was following me.”
“Then it is him we will find,” his brother said as he reached for his wife. “Come here, my love, let me hold you.”
Alex heard Finn murmur to Phoebe, telling her all would be well, telling her of his love, and he thought of Hannah. Why did he have a terrible feeling that what had happened tonight in some way involved her?
CHAPTER NINE
Three days after someone had hit Alex over the head and knocked him unconscious; Hannah left her house with her maid to do some much-needed shopping. He was well, because she had received word from him saying he would call on her later that day, and her father had said that when he saw Finn, Lord Levermarch had been happy with his brother’s progress. Hannah had not visited him, because she feared she would dissolve into tears. The thought that he had been hurt because of her had wormed its way into her head and taken root. How and why, she had no notion, but she was now certain that was the truth. If she had not implicated him in her charade, he would not have been struck down.
She had left the ballroom the night of the Gemmell ball after receiving a note, and walked into the gardens as it had directed her to do, but the blackmailer had not shown and when she returned to the house it had been to find a distraught Phoebe, and Alex lying on a chaise, pale and unconscious. Seeing him so lifeless had shocked her, and with that shock had come realization. She cared for him, deeply, and she must end this now, before he was hurt any more.
Imagining a world that Alex did not inhabit was horrifying and not something she wished to contemplate.
“We are to visit the milliner, Miss Wooller?”
“Yes, that will be our first stop, Mary.”
She let her maid chatter about what they needed while her mind returned to Alex. Lord Levermarch had started investigations as to why Alex had been attacked, and by whom, but as yet no lead had been found. She knew he would not stop until his brother’s attacker was found, and she hoped he was successful.
Sending her carriage away, Hannah and Mary entered the milliner’s. After walking the length of the stree
t and purchasing three pairs of gloves for Bridgette and herself, and a new parasol for her sister, they started their return journey toward the carriage.
“Miss Wooller?”
A boy appeared before her.
“Yes, I am she.”
He thrust a note at her and then fled. Hannah’s hands shook as she opened it. Meet me in Pickle lane, now. The words were in black ink, the letters a ragged scrawl across the page, and the spelling terrible, and they sent a wave of terror up Hannah’s spine.
“Do you know where Pickle Lane is, Mary?” Hannah asked her maid.
“About a fifteen-minute walk from here heading east, Miss Wooller. Off Little Lane, then a right turn halfway down brings you out into it,” Mary said. “But it’s not a place for a lady. It’s frequented by some nasty folks.”
“I’m not going there, I have just heard it spoken off.” Hannah waved a hand about and then opened her reticule and pretended to look inside.
“Mary, I seem to have left my coin purse in one of the shops, could you fetch if for me?”
“Of course.” The maid hurried away, and Hannah quickly headed in the opposite direction. Following Mary’s directions, she walked as fast as she could without drawing too much attention to herself. Arriving at Little Lane, she turned down it and then right into Pickle Lane. It was narrow, the buildings rising high on each side, blocking the light. Straightening her shoulders, she ignored the huddle of young men gathered around something. What was she to do now she was here?
“You needs to go into that building, Miss.” The same boy who gave her the note appeared, pointing to the end of the lane.
Hannah nodded and started toward it. Trying not to wrinkle her nose at the unsanitary smells emitting from God knew what, she arrived at the building the boy had indicated and tapped on the door. It swung open immediately.
“Come inside, Miss Wooller.”
Hannah did, and it closed behind her. Spinning, she looked at the face of Bridgette’s father.
“I can pay you no more than what we originally agreed, Mr. Jacobs,” she said in a firm voice that she hoped hid her nerves.
Lionel Jacobs was a horrid man who had married her father’s sister and treated her terribly. The Wooller family had rescued Bridgette after her mother had died giving birth, and from that day forth she had been raised as Lord Wooller’s youngest daughter. No one but Phoebe, Hannah and her father, knew differently.
