The Stranger She Married (Rogue Hearts Series)

by Hatch, Donna

  “Miss Palmer. Miss Hannah.” He spoke in a gruff, gravely voice muffled by the mask.

  Alicia stammered a reply with no more eloquence than poor Hannah, whom she feared would swoon. When they sat, the baron took an armchair nearest the divan where Alicia sat with Hannah. Alicia consciously refrained from squirming or fidgeting as they made customary small talk. The baron faced her but the mask was so featureless, he could have been looking behind her. Even his eyes were covered. He spoke carefully, quietly as they exchanged dutiful pleasantries.

  When there was a pause in the conversation, the baron turned to her. “Miss Palmer, I know you must believe yourself without any say in the matter, considering the circumstances, but if you favor another, I will be a gentleman and step aside.”

  Alicia twisted her handkerchief in her hands. “There’s no one else, my lord.”

  “I realize I’m not exactly every young girl’s dream of a husband. But I wish for the companionship of a wife and I desire to have an heir eventually. I live quietly, out of busy social circles, and cannot offer you a life of glamour, but I have enough wealth that I can promise you that you will lack for nothing.”

  Alicia forced herself to look at the expressionless mask. “I appreciate your gesture, my lord.” She almost added that she was not motivated by money, but that would make her seem a liar since she clearly only considered him because of his wealth and how an alliance with him would help her family. In the settlement to which he and Uncle Willard had agreed, he’d offered a staggering sum to Uncle Willard. To Alicia, he’d given generous pin money, dress allowance, and jointure if she outlived him. And Hannah’s dowry would make her appealing to any suitor in London—not enough to attract fortune hunters, but not so small that she’d be deemed unsuitable. None of Alicia’s other suitors came close to his settlement. He spoke the truth; she’d never live in poverty. And he would save her family from debtor’s prison. That should have been enough to banish the rising nausea. Should have been, but it wasn’t.

  She redirected her attention to the baron who was speaking in soft tones.

  “I’m not temperamental, and I would never raise my hand against you. I give you my word that I will be a good husband to you, Miss Palmer.”

  Unable to look at that expressionless mask, she loosened her grip on her wadded up handkerchief in her hand.

  “Will you have me?” he asked softly.

  Already he seemed a better man than either Mr. Braxton or Colonel Westin. But her fear nearly overwhelmed her. He waited expectantly. Her imagination conjured horrifying images of his face, his body, the demands he as her husband would make upon her. It was him, or prison. She had no other options.

  She forced herself to look at the blank mask. “Yes, my lord. I will have you.”

  Hannah fainted.

  CHAPTER 14

  The day of the wedding dawned bright and clear. Last night, Hannah had stayed in her bed with her, weeping so much that Alicia feared she’d have to give her laudanum to make her sleep. Hannah had been ill at the thought of Alicia marrying such a frightful-looking man, and worse, that she did it to save them all from ruin. For Hannah’s sake, Alicia had attempted to show a brave face and tried to speak anything positive that entered her mind.

  Alicia rose quietly so as not to disturb her sister who had finally gone to sleep. A beautiful wedding gown from one of the finest dressmakers in Paris lay draped over a chair surrounded by flowers. A veil and fine, soft undergarments lay nearby—gifts that had arrived from her future husband, delivered by the newly-arrived maid, Monique, also courtesy of her betrothed.

  Monique, the ladies’ maid four or five years Alicia’s junior with dark hair and eyes, came in quietly with a tray of fruit and hot chocolate. Alicia had forgotten how wonderful it had been having a maid to care for her. Thanks to the baron’s advance to her uncle, she now enjoyed a noticeable improvement in the quality and variety of food.

  As Alicia tried to swallow some fruit down a very dry throat, Hannah stirred and woke. “Oh, Lissie, what am I to do without you?”

  Alicia set aside the tray and hugged her. “It isn’t as if we’ll never see each other again. I’m sure he’ll allow us to visit.”

  Hannah nodded soberly. “I hope so.” Tears swam in her eyes and her mouth worked.

  “Hannah, don’t weep so. I need you with me on my wedding day.”

  Rallying, Hannah heaved a shuddering sigh and got up. After they’d bathed, washed and dried their hair, and dressed, they attempted to eat breakfast downstairs. Robert and Uncle Willard were still abed. Alicia and Hannah picked at their food, alternating between strained conversation and subdued silence. The thought of this being Alicia’s last meal at home lingered between them. Even the servants seemed agitated. At least they’d been paid all their back wages, thanks to the baron’s generosity.

  “Let’s take a turn about the gardens,” Hannah suggested.

  Alicia agreed. As they donned bonnets and gloves, the butler arrived.

  “Lord Amesbury, Miss. The other one, the viscount.”

  Cole Amesbury.

  The butler’s face clouded. “Your uncle gave orders that I not admit him all the other times he’s called, but he says he refuses to leave until he speaks with you.”

  At that moment, Cole Amesbury pushed his way into the room, his stunningly handsome face giving no clues as to the dark soul lurking beneath the pleasing exterior. How could such a contradictory nature exist inside one man?

  “Please speak with me.” Determination laced his voice but desperation shaded his eyes.

  She tied her bonnet under her chin and pulled on her wrap. Crisply, she said, “Very well, my lord.”

  “Walk with me? Alone?”

  She drew herself up. “I am to wed another today, my lord. Speaking with you alone will surely not please my intended.”

  “Walk with me. Please.” The supplication in his expression tugged at her heart.

  Hannah squeezed her hand and nodded with a shy smile. Alicia hadn’t had the heart to tell her of Cole Amesbury’s involvement in Armand’s death. No doubt, she hoped this handsome Adonis would save her from the masked man she felt compelled to marry.

  Alicia consented and allowed him to lead her out to the gardens.

  He reached for her hand, but then stopped himself. His arm dropped. “It’s not too late. Leave with me now. We’ll go to Gretna Green and marry. I’ll match everything the baron has promised your uncle and your sister. My Aunt Livy has agreed to sponsor Hannah the next Season; her connections will ensure Hannah is invited to Almack’s and is presented to the queen.” The intensity and vulnerability in his eyes chipped at her resolve.

  She stared in amazement. “Why would you do this?”

  “Because I …” he paused. “I desire you for a wife.”

  His words rang of sincerity and Alicia blinked at the admission. “I can’t imagine why.”

  He hesitated. “I admire you. And I want to help you and your family, and—”

  “Don’t.” She held up a hand. “I would never wish to mislead you, so I will speak plainly. I will not marry you. Not now. Not ever.”

  “Because of Armand.” The lines around his mouth whitened.

  She made no reply. None was necessary.

  He nodded, his face hardening. After a stiff bow, he turned. She watched his broad back and shoulders as he strode away from her. Some of the usual grace in his walk had faded. He mounted his stunning white stallion and cantered away. A white stallion. Like her dream knight. All he lacked was the armor.

  And honor.

  Alicia smothered the tiny voice whispering she’d made a terrible mistake. She sank down on a stone bench. How could she marry the man who had destroyed Armand?

  She couldn’t. She would marry a man whose face she may never see. A man who frightened her.

  Hannah joined her. “I thought he’d come to propose.” Disappointment laced her voice.

  Alicia forced a laugh. “Whatever gave you that idea?�
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  “He seems the gallant type who would rescue a lady from marrying someone she does not wish to wed. He rose to your defense at the races and—”

  “Hannah, marriage is a greater commitment than merely giving the cut to a rude man!” Alicia spoke more sharply than she’d intended. She put her arm around Hannah. “Sorry, dearest. I’m just nervous about my wedding day.”

  “I don’t blame you. The man was frightening.” Hannah pulled her shawl more closely around herself, her face thoughtful. “He did speak like a gentleman, though, didn’t he?”

  “Yes, he did. I’m sure I will fare better with him than some ladies do with the men they marry. Think of all those arranged marriages that happened for centuries. At least I had the opportunity to say no.”

  “But you didn’t really have a choice, did you?”

  Alicia made no reply.

  They went back to the house and began preparing for the wedding. Her new French maid, Monique, helped her change out of her clothes. Monique dressed her in new undergarments and stockings, all trimmed with delicate lace. Alicia had never seen such fine things.

  After months of caring for herself, with only Hannah to help with her stays, being waited upon seemed a strange luxury, but her hands had begun to shake so badly, having help today was necessary. Just the companionship and touch of another human was comforting.

  As Alicia sat at a dressing table, Monique dressed her hair, deftly piled it on top of her head, and pinned it in place, allowing a few tendrils to hang down against her neck. White roses nestled among the curls in a more beautiful arrangement than she had ever worn.

  After the maid had finished with her hair, she carefully lowered the wedding gown over Alicia’s head and fastened tiny pearl buttons down her back. Monique had altered it after it arrived until the gown fit Alicia perfectly. Monique stepped back to allow Alicia to admire it in the mirror. Despite the gloom hanging over her, her solicitous maid had raised her spirits. A little.

  Alicia eyed her reflection. The dress was silk satin, set with pearls and tiny ribbon rosebuds. Matching slippers completed the ensemble. Alicia remained still while Monique arranged every fold of her dress.

  Hannah gazed at her in breathless adoration. “Oh, Lissie, I’ve never seen its equal.”

  “Voilá.” Monique wore a pleased smile. “Magnifique.”

  If only she felt ‘magnifique.’ Instead, she felt only empty. Frightened. There was nothing to do now but wait. To marry a stranger. A scarred cripple. A man who would soon have the right to demand anything of her.

  Alicia feared she might become ill. She interlaced her fingers in an attempt to stop her hands from shaking.

  The footman scratched at the door. “The bridegroom awaits, Miss Palmer.”

  Alicia rose on unsteady legs. “Tell his lordship I am coming.”

  Hannah hugged her, her lower lip trembling. Alicia summoned courage for Hannah’s sake.

  “All will be well,” she said, her voice choking on her tears. “Maman used to say, ‘there is good in everything if you look hard enough.’ Good will come of this, you’ll see.”

  Hannah squared her shoulders and visibly tried to brighten. Voices led them to the study. Alicia paused at the threshold. Robert stood at the sideboard table wearing a black superfine. He glowered at her soon-to-be-husband, whose masked face allowed him perfect neutrality regarding his thoughts. Robert tossed back what appeared to be the latest of many drinks and shot another red-eyed glare at the baron.

  “I assure you, young Mr. Palmer,” her betrothed said in measured, muffled tones, “I have no intention of mistreating her in any way. I was raised with the belief that a man should treat his wife with dignity, respect, and kindness. It is a philosophy I embrace.”

  Robert poured another drink and gulped it down.

  Uncle Willard intervened. “We don’t mean to be ungrateful, baron. And thank you for your advance, my lord. Things have been much more comfortable.”

  The masked head inclined. “I’m happy to have been of assistance.”

  “Those were all the papers to sign, then?” Willard asked. “Everything is settled?”

  “All but the wedding, Mr. Palmer.” A hint of humor laced the baron’s voice.

  Uncle Willard noticed Alicia and Hannah then. “Ah! Well, you turned out all right after all, eh?”

  Robert offered a sickly smile, his eyes bloodshot and tortured. “I have never seen a more beautiful bride.” He leaned in to kiss her cheek, his breath so strong with drink that Alicia’s eyes watered.

  Poor Robert, who would take care of him now? At least now they could afford to have a full staff of servants again. She hoped one of them would look after her cousin, who seemed bent on drinking himself to death.

  The baron limped to her, leaning on his cane. Alicia stood unflinching before him. “Stunning, my dear. The gown suits you well. May it be the first of many.”

  He was dressed in the same manner as before with a large billowing cloak, loose mask, and kidskin gloves.

  He took her hand and pressed it to his mouth, protected by his mask. “Any man would be pleased to have a beauty such as you by his side.”

  Alicia could not look at that featureless black head. “Thank you, my lord,” she whispered, unable to find her voice.

  He tucked her hand into his arm and led them outside. The shiny waiting coach was embellished with carvings and a family crest. Four matched black horses stood as if at attention and an immaculately liveried footman waited at the door.

  They all climbed in and seated themselves wordlessly. Inside the carriage, the cushions were red velvet, matching the curtains at the windows. She had never ridden in a more luxurious coach in her life. It traveled smoothly over the rain-rutted road and through the cobblestone streets of town.

  Outside the church, they stopped. The baron helped her out and led her to the stairs of the church. At the bottom step, she stopped, her heart pounding like a wild bird flinging against the bars of its cage.

  Who was this man? What if he proved to be a man like Mr. Braxton, who had tried to force his advances upon her? She would have to allow it. As her husband, he would have the right. Seized by panic, she cast about for avenues of escape, all thoughts of cooperation fleeing.

  “This way.” The baron placed his hand under her elbow. She stumbled along next to him up the steps to the front door strung with flower garlands.

  Alicia glanced over her shoulder toward her only hope for freedom but the baron, coachman, and footman all remained nearby, preventing an escape. Alicia gulped.

  Inside, the vicar and his wife greeted them. “Lord Amesbury,” they said in turn to the baron, their voices hushed.

  Alicia started. Could she ever speak to, or even think of, her husband without images of Cole coming to mind?

  The vicar’s wife turned to her. “I’ll show you where you may touch up first, Miss Palmer.”

  “A moment.” The baron held out his hand, palm up, to Alicia and waited.

  Alicia reluctantly placed her hand in his gloved hand. The others drew back to a respectful distance.

  “Alicia.” He spoke in a gruff, gravelly voice muffled by the mask. “You still have a choice in this. It’s not too late. Do you wish to go through with this marriage? I know that there are others who—”

  “I agree to this marriage.” Her voice sounded thin in her own ears. She prayed that he would have gentler hands than the last man who touched her.

  The cowled head nodded and he stepped back. The vicar’s wife led Alicia, Hannah and Monique to a small room down a corridor until they reached a dressing room. Monique and Hannah fussed over her, touching up her hair and smoothing her wedding gown.

  They made a small procession as they went into the chapel. Two witnesses stood nearby to legalize the hasty wedding. Dully, Alicia mused that the baron must have important connections to secure a special license so quickly. A few others had come as well, but Alicia suddenly had difficulty seeing. With her hand on Uncle Willard�
��s arm, she mustered up what she hoped would be an adequate amount of dignity and walked down the aisle.

  The baron’s masked head nodded once and he held out his arm to her. She placed her trembling hand on his glove. She heard little of the ceremony except the pounding of her heart. As she battled tears from forming, she barely found enough voice to repeat her vows. The black monstrosity at her side slipped a wedding band on her icy, shaking fingers. They were pronounced man and wife. A condemnation akin to death.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, she found it ironic that, although she had rejected Cole Amesbury, she would take the same surname when she married his kin.

  The vicar blessed them and read several verses and they had communion. Then it was over. They signed the papers, her hand trembling so badly she could barely hold the pen.

  The wedding breakfast took place on the church lawn in the shade of a grove of trees, and though the masterfully prepared meal offered a tempting promise, Alicia could not swallow anything. Guests made toasts, but voices remained hushed, everyone uncertain what to make of the masked groom. Elizabeth smiled, trying to appear supportive and encouraging, but her quivering lips barely concealed her clear urge to burst into tears. Robert drank grimly. Then the baron rose, thanked their guests in his soft, slightly gravelly voice and bid them farewell.

  Elizabeth hugged her and wished her well, clearly trying to be positive for her sake. “You’re a titled lady now, you know. I’ll write to you every week, Baroness.”

  Alicia nodded and hugged her. Elizabeth’s mother, Mrs. Hancock, drew her into an embrace, whispering words of encouragement and affection. Then Hannah was there, weeping and clinging so desperately that Elizabeth had to take Hannah into her arms. Alicia’s new husband led her away.

  The coach that had brought her here still waited in front of a second, smaller one where Monique and a valet sat. The baron escorted Alicia to the larger coach and then climbed in after her. He sat with his right leg extended, as if bending it caused him pain. The baron’s steady gaze rested on her like a weight even though the mask hid it. She kept her eyes fixed outside the window, afraid to look at the hulking form across from her.