by Hatch, Donna
“Alicia,” the baron began in his low muffled voice. “Are you happy here?”
“Yes.”
“Do not answer too quickly. I need the truth. Do you feel comfortable here? Do you feel that this is your home?”
“Yes, I do. It’s beautiful here and I have everything I could possibly want.”
There was another moment of silence. Finally, he turned to her. “Do you still fear me?”
She considered. He seemed less intimidating than he had at first. He had been a perfect gentleman in every way since she had met him. She realized that she had grown fond of him, of his gentle mannerisms, his wit.
But the thought of allowing him to touch her, the humiliation, the fear and degradation that accompanied such touches, turned her cold.
Knowing he awaited an answer, she moistened her lips. “Not as much, my lord.”
He nodded but said nothing more and remained quiet all evening. Since that day he showed her the maze, he made no further attempt to touch her except to press chaste kisses to her cheek.
Late that night, Alicia sat up to finish a novel. After she read the last word and set the book down, hunger niggled at her. She donned a robe and slippers, picked up a taper to light her way, and slipped out of her room down the darkened corridor toward the kitchen. Lord Amesbury’s bedroom door stood ajar. She glanced in. A dying fire silhouetted him in a large armchair hunched over with his head in his hands as if desperately sad.
A pang of remorse shot through her. They had been married for nearly a month, yet she still failed to welcome him into her bed. Her selfishness shamed her. After all, he’d been kind and patient. He deserved a wife who respected him enough to offer him the comfort of her body.
But whenever she imagined his hands on her skin the way Mr. Braxton had touched her, her stomach clenched until she felt ill. Her appetite had disappeared. She went back into her room and closed the door.
That night, she dreamed of lying in Cole’s strong, gentle arms. Then he began tearing her bodice. Cole’s face twisted and transformed into Mr. Braxton. She struggled to free herself as his hands pawed at her body, but his face changed again and he wore her husband’s mask. His leather gloves felt cold and lifeless on her skin.
“Alicia.”
She cried out, bolting upright and whirling toward the disconnected voice in the darkness.
“Are you all right?” The baron’s voice cut through her fear, its soothing tones quieting her panic.
“Yes,” she managed. Cold sweat drenched her nightgown.
“You were dreaming.”
“Yes, I know.”
“You were begging me to stop.”
She pressed the heels of her hands into her wet eyes and tried to calm her thudding heart.
“Do you still fear me so much?”
“I …” she could not think of an appropriate reply.
His footsteps led away and the door closed firmly. Alicia laid her head down and wept.
****
On the morning of her one month anniversary, the butler informed Alicia that a visitor by the name of Lady Edenburgh had come to call. Pleased that a neighbor had chosen to pay a visit, Alicia smoothed her hair and greeted her caller.
Lady Edenburgh met her with a warm smile. The lady was perhaps ten years her senior, with a lovely face and bright, lively eyes. She wore a tastefully simple, yet fashionable gown.
“Lady Amesbury,” she said with a charming Irish lilt. “I am so happy to make your acquaintance. When I learned that a lady had come to live so near my own home, I waited impatiently until after you’d been married a month so I could come welcome her.”
“I’m so glad you did.”
“I’ve been here for three years, yet I still sometimes feel as if I am a newcomer.”
“You have such a lovely accent. Ireland?”
Lady Edenburgh smiled. “I grew up in Ireland. My parents and tutors were all English, but when everyone else speaks with an Irish accent, one picks it up.”
They chatted comfortably and Lady Edenburgh filled her in on the latest local gossip. She spoke briefly of her husband. “Unfortunately, a year after we were wed, he suffered an apoplexy and is a near invalid.”
“Oh, how terrible for you both.”
“We have learned to cope.”
Emboldened by her guest’s forthright manner, Alicia asked, “Pray tell me, have you ever met my husband?”
“I regret that I have not. Lord Amesbury has been either absent, or reclusive for as long as I can remember.”
“Then he seldom attends social functions?”
“None that I’m aware of.”
Poor man. He kept himself shut away from the world. No wonder he was willing to go to such measures to find a wife. His alternative was to live his entire life in solitude.
CHAPTER 20
On the day of the ball, Monique arranged Alicia’s hair with all the care of a sculptor. Alicia sat staring somberly in the mirror. She used to anticipate balls with eagerness; there was little she loved to do as much as dance, to feel completely carried away by the music. Tonight should be no exception. A gown had arrived the day before from Paris, a pale green silk with a darker green sash. Little flounces held with tiny green ribbons pulled up the hemline. She almost felt beautiful.
However, a dark foreboding dampened her enthusiasm. She and the baron would create a sensation when they arrived. Their every move would be discussed and analyzed. Some might look upon her with sympathy, others, with scorn. Perhaps they’d view him as a curiosity, or as the source of apprehension, ridicule, or fear. By the time Monique slipped her gown over her head, Alicia was tempted to cry off.
“And this one, I think, would be perfect.” Monique retrieved a pearl necklace from the jewelry case and held it up.
Alicia hesitated. She seldom removed her mother’s locket, yet the baron might feel slighted if she failed to wear any of the family jewelry he’d so generously given her. She removed her locket, set it carefully in the jewelry case, and allowed Monique to fasten the pearls around her neck.
As she pulled on her gloves, Lord Amesbury knocked respectfully and entered at her bidding. She turned to face him, her dress making a slight rustle.
“You look exquisite, my love. The dress is lovely, don’t you agree?”
“It’s beautiful, my lord.”
“The pearls are perfect.” He drew closer. “You look like a queen.”
She touched them. “I think I will be afraid all night that I might lose them.”
“I hope you will enjoy yourself tonight, Alicia. Do not hurry back. I will see you at dinner tomorrow night.”
Her eyes opened wide.
“I am not going with you, my love.”
Alicia nodded sadly. She should have known he would not attend but his bleak self-assessment smote her through the heart.
“Our neighbor, Lady Edenburgh, has agreed to give you a ride in her carriage so you won’t have to travel alone.”
She brightened. “I look forward to seeing her again.”
“And my cousin Cole has agreed to attend. He normally dislikes marriage marts as he calls them, but he has promised to watch over you this evening.”
A quiver started in her stomach. “My lord—”
“I understand your feelings regarding him, but I want to ensure your safety. Cole is the only man I’d trust to protect you as I would if I were present.” He kissed her cheek in that muffled way that had become familiar to her, and left before she could argue further.
Monique fussed over her appearance several more minutes while Alicia fought the rising tremor that leapt to her throat at the mention of Cole’s name. After Monique was satisfied that she appeared picture-perfect, Alicia picked up her wrap and reticule and left her room. Her husband’s door stood closed, another barrier between them. She paused before it, but then moved on.
Lady Edenburgh’s coach waited outside. The night had cooled and the trees glistened silver in the moonlight.
&nb
sp; Alicia chatted happily with Lady Edenburgh and asked about the nearby residents. In her charming Irish accent, Lady Edenburgh gleefully repeated the local gossip. Although the journey took nearly an hour, time passed quickly and they soon arrived at the duke’s home.
When the major-domo announced her as Lady Amesbury, an excited hush rippled through the crowd. Alicia keenly felt the eyes of everyone in attendance upon her, no doubt wondering about the bride of the crippled baron. Desiring to reflect well upon her husband, she tried to move gracefully as she entered the ballroom. Her gown and jewels, she knew, were perfect and she caught smiles of approval, and even one or two of envy.
The host and hostess greeted her warmly and she made her apologies for her husband. They did not seem surprised that he had chosen to remain behind. As she stood at the edge of the ballroom, she admired the intricate chalk drawings on the wooden floor in the shape of an elaborate coat-of-arms. Expertly done, the chalk gleamed in the abundant lamplight. It would be pity to mar such a creation when the dancing began. As she lifted her gaze to the other guests, her heart stalled.
Cole Amesbury stood within arm’s reach, smugly handsome, dressed in impeccable black superfine with a blue and gold striped waistcoat that showed his broad form to its full advantage. A sapphire stick pin the exact color of his eyes glittered from his snowy cravat. His smile flashed, calmly stirring her into chaos with even greater efficiency than normal. Would the sight of him ever fail to send her sensibilities into such chaos? Yet tonight she saw him in a new light. Deep hurt resided behind that confident smile, a hurt she wanted to help heal if she could. But somehow, his effortless control over her senses threw her into a state of irritation.
“My lord,” she greeted him. She tried to keep her voice nonchalant.
His grin widened. “Can’t you agree to call me Cole just for tonight? Cousin?”
She raised her chin haughtily, hoping her weak knees weren’t apparent. “Very well, Cousin Cole, you scoundrel. I will be civil to you, for my husband’s sake. I am sure you are somehow behind this. How you ever convinced him to allow this ridiculous scheme, I shall never know.”
He awarded her his heart-stopping grin. “Would you believe it was his idea?”
She sniffed. “I suppose he isn’t as intelligent as I thought. It’s like trusting a cat to guard a fish bowl.”
He grinned. “An apt metaphor.” He leaned closer, and her swirling senses spiraled higher. “I have been looking forward to spending this evening with you, Alicia.” He chuckled softly at the look of alarm that must have come over her face. “Fear not, I promise I will be a perfect gentleman. Your gown is exquisite. It suits you perfectly. And the pearls are a nice complement.”
“Thank you.” She eyed his immaculate superfine and the stark white of his shirt and cravat against his tanned skin. “You look well. Dashing, as usual.”
He grinned while something dangerous smoldered in the depths of his eyes. “Dance with me.” It seemed a plea rather than a command.
Against her better judgment, she allowed him to lead her to the dance floor as the other dancers lined up for the first set. He strode unflinchingly across the chalk drawings, his focus fixed entirely upon her. The music began and they took their bows before beginning the steps.
Armed with a pre-selected arsenal of safe subjects, she asked, “I understand you spent much of your youth at sea?”
He nodded. “I left Cambridge and joined the British Navy when I was fourteen.”
“I am surprised your family let you go away to sea. Normally the heir remains at home, doesn’t he?”
“I was angry, foolish, and craving excitement. My brother Jared and I left rather suddenly.”
“Were you in many sea battles?
His face closed over. “Yes.”
She paused, wondering if she should pursue this topic, but the desire to understand the man beneath the flirtatious exterior urged her on. The dance pattern took them apart to dance with others. When they were back together, she gently asked, “Were you wounded?”
Tension radiated from his body and his smile grew tight. “Everyone is wounded at least once.”
She suspected that he had been hurt in many ways. The ravages of war left their mark on many men. Some bore their scars on the outside where a mask must shield them; others had scars on the inside and they masked them with a careful expression and a teasing manner.
His voice took on a lighthearted tone, but it sounded forced. “My brother Jared had a different idea. He signed on with a privateer. Fewer rules, better pay. Jared was promoted faster than I. He loved to lord it over me that my younger brother was ahead of me in rank, but since he wasn’t in the Navy, I did not consider it a contest.”
“Did you serve with my husband?”
“We were in some of the same battles. Jared is still at sea, as captain of his own ship.” His face softened as he spoke of his brother, and his tension dissolved.
The dance set ended and he led her off the floor. They sat on a sofa between two large ferns and sipped drinks Cole snatched from a passing tray.
“Tell me of your brother,” she urged. “Jared, is it?’
“I have three living brothers. Jared…” he let his breath out as if trying to determine how much to divulge. “He’s been living as a pirate for nearly three years. It’s a role he’s taken to rather well. Perhaps too well.” He glanced at her. “I’m trusting you with this family secret.”
She nodded to assure him she’d never breathe a word.
“There’s actually more to it than that, but I am unable to discuss the particulars.” He grinned, his eyes taking on a faraway look. “He’s arrogant, incorrigible, and completely without honor.”
“So, in other words, you are much alike,” she interjected with a teasing smile.
He chuckled, his eyes glittering. “I see you know me well.”
He began relating their antics as children. She easily pictured a younger Cole causing mayhem in his corner of the world with adoring younger brothers innocently participating in all of his exploits. With her gently probing questions, he told her of his school days and the pranks he and his classmates orchestrated. Alicia laughed until her cheeks hurt.
Putting her hands against her face, she cocked her head to the side. “What do you do when you are not frittering about the countryside, trying to tempt hapless relatives to cuckold their husbands?”
His easy laugh coaxed another smile out of her as well. “Seeing to the estate takes much time. In my free time, I ride and hunt. When I want something more vigorous, I box and fence. I am fond of horses and horse racing, but you know that already.”
She nodded, remembering that pleasant day at the racecourse. It all seemed an age ago.
“I own several winners.” He spent the next several minutes telling her about his horseflesh, races and hopes for the future. He related the loss of his newest horse, and the injury of the jockey. Moved by his sorrow, she touched his arm in a gesture of comfort.
As they talked, she felt her defenses fall. She told him of her childhood and of her parents, her twin, her sister, and her terrifying first season in London with the beau monde dowagers watching her critically.
“Alicia,” said a familiar feminine voice. “Lord Amesbury, what are you doing here?”
Virtually glittering from head to toe, Catherine stood over them, giving Cole her best smile.
Cole shot Catherine a quizzical grin as he stood and bowed. “I was invited, I believe. And you?”
“Visiting my dear niece for her first ball. And you were supposed to come alone.”
Cole smiled. “My cousin asked me to watch over his delightful wife, and I was only too happy to oblige. Lovely to see you again, Miss Sinclair. Good evening.”
He led Alicia away as she tried to stifle a smile. “That may be the first time anyone has ever dared cut Catherine Sinclair,” she said when they were out of earshot.
“She is a shallow, vain, conniving woman. I have had my fill of that
sort. They fail to hold my interest.”
“Oh? And who would hold your interest?”
“Someone who’s already rejected me soundly.” He spoke wryly but without rancor, and his smoldering gaze heated her cheeks.
The evening was a magical swirl of music, lights, dancing, and Cole’s smile. When other men asked her to dance, he glared at them and only grudgingly stepped back to allow them to take her hand. Under his attentiveness and open looks of admiration, she blushed with pleasure and something else she did not dare identify. Light and giddy, she forgot everything but the brightness of his smile and the feel of his strong arms around her waist as they waltzed across the dance floor. After a mouth-watering dinner, there was more dancing.
Captain Hawthorne greeted her with a polite bow and asked for a dance. His handsome face and dark eyes brought a smile to her lips.
They wove through the intricate pattern amongst the other dancers. “I am happy to see a familiar face here, Captain Hawthorne.”
“I’m happy to see you, too, Lady Amesbury. You’re looking well.”
She glanced at Catherine standing in a circle surrounded by ardent admirers. “Are you and Miss Sinclair ...?”
His dark eyes were shielded. “I’m not certain. I do not believe my lineage is impressive enough for her.”
“Then she is blind. You are handsome, polite, and your father is a respected gentleman. Any girl should be grateful for your attentions.”
He inclined his head in a bow but sorrow touched his dark eyes. “You are very kind.”
The dance ended and he thanked her for the honor. Cole appeared at her side, greeted Captain Hawthorne cordially, and took her hand again, and partnered her for the next dance set.
A footman appeared as they finished dancing a set and delivered a message. “Lady Amesbury, Lady Edenburgh has fallen ill. The hostess offered to let her remain for the night and has already put her to bed.
Alicia’s bliss faded. “Oh, dear, nothing serious, I hope?”
The footman shook his head. “No. The doctor was not sent for, but she developed a dreadful headache.”
