The Stranger She Married

by Donna Hatch

  "Give me time and I'm sure..."

  "There is no time. I must act now."

  She heaved a sigh. “Why won't Mr. Palmer consider you? You could help them."

  "Because she hates me and so does he."

  A faint smile touched her mouth. “You do seem to have that effect on their family."

  He couldn't blame them. “I have that effect on many."

  "Care to explain why?"

  "No, ma'am."

  Her shrewd gaze left him with the urge to squirm. “Very well. I will help you with the arrangements, but I want you to know that I do not approve of this scheme."

  "I know. But I don't know what else to do."

  Her gaze nearly pierced his shields. “Do you love her?"

  Cole forced himself to look her in the eye. “Of course not. I'm just trying to save her."

  "You are the man she should be marrying."

  "That's no longer a viable alternative."

  "So you would have Nicholas marry her? He's a stranger to her. It would be an arranged marriage. She'll be terrified."

  "I know.” His voice sounded as hollow as the place in his heart. “It's the only way to save her."

  "Then who will save you?” she asked quietly, with tears shimmering in her eyes.

  More frightened than he cared to admit, Cole left to see to another detail. The light rain had turned into a drenching downpour when Cole went outside and remounted. André's hooves slogged over the seldom traveled road to Colonel Westin's manor house. Soaked and grimly determined, Cole pressed on. Trees leaned mournfully under the rainfall against a darkened sky.

  At the Westin's manor house, an elderly footman opened the door and eyed Cole with disdain.

  As if completely unaware of his clothes dripping on the doorstep, Cole solemnly handed him his card. “I would like a moment of Colonel Westin's time, if he would be so kind."

  The footman read the card and eyed Cole suspiciously, convinced any man with such a shocking appearance could not possibly be a viscount. “A moment, if you please, my lord.” He disappeared without taking Cole's hat or coat.

  Cole waited in the foyer and dripped on the floor. No candles burned, leaving only the faint light from outside the windows to illuminate the room. Not only the temperature, but the ambiance of this house felt cold. Though the décor whispered of money of an era long gone, gloom drowned out the opulence of the room.

  The spreading puddle at Cole's feet reached the first doorway when a balding man approached. Though customary for a servant to lead a guest to the host, the master probably came to him because he did not wish to have his carpets sodden by an unseemly visitor.

  The Colonel perused Cole with disdain. “Lord Amesbury, I presume."

  "Yes, sir. We met briefly at the race."

  "To what do I owe the honor of this unprecedented visit?” His tone suggested he felt anything but honored by Cole's call.

  Cole kept his voice deferential. He clearly outranked the Colonel in social standing, but the man was still Cole's elder, and that, at least, required respect. “It is my understanding that you have been courting Miss Palmer."

  "I fail to understand why this is your concern."

  "Her brother Armand and I were old friends.” The lie rolled glibly off his tongue. “Now that he is departed, I feel it my duty to look after her welfare. I do not believe either he or her father would approve of a match between you."

  The colonel stiffened. “I have much to offer her."

  "She's the age of your granddaughter."

  The colonel's mouth tightened. “Our age difference may not be as much a hindrance as you suppose."

  "You are on a different maturity and intellectual level."

  The colonel's bluster faded. “She ... she needs a husband quickly. She has few choices. And I am weary of being alone."

  Cole hated stripping the man of his dignity, even if he was an overbearing cad who publicly degraded Alicia. His purpose was to convince the man to lose interest in Alicia, not question his manhood. He poured a soothing tone into his voice.

  "She still has other options, do not be concerned for her. You, however, are a respected war hero. You deserve a mature wife who shares your interests. You don't want a wife who marries you because she has no other choice, do you? That's a bit insulting."

  The Colonel deliberated. “I had considered going to London next Season in the hopes of meeting a more mature widow."

  "Splendid! My aunt Olivia is one of the most well-respected ladies of the ton. She may be able to garner a few introductions for you to ladies of your station. I will speak to her immediately. I understand you've hunted in Africa?"

  The colonel's chest puffed out. “Yes. A number of times. Capital game there."

  "The ladies adore tales of travel, especially Africa. I'm confident you'll have no trouble finding someone who appreciates you. All you need are a few introductions."

  The colonel considered. Cole curbed his impatience.

  "Very well, my lord, I accept."

  "Excellent. My aunt loves to play matchmaker. She'll have an impressive list of suitable prospects for you to consider."

  The colonel stood a little taller and shook Cole's hand. “Thank you, my lord. Forgive me, may I offer you a drink?"

  "Thank you, Colonel, but I am expected at another engagement shortly. But I appreciate you taking time to see me."

  Cole affected a bow and departed. Now that the competition had been eliminated, he could implement the final stage in Alicia's rescue. If only he could just carry her off and marry her himself. Abduction sounded more appealing every moment.

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  CHAPTER 13

  Alicia awoke to a knock at the door and a terse whisper calling her name. The sun had set hours ago. She threw on a robe and opened the door, pushing her hair away from her face.

  "What is it, Robbie?"

  "Colonel Westin has withdrawn his offer."

  Alicia's mouth fell open. She shrank from the prospect of marrying the overbearing colonel, but without him, and his money, she had no hope of saving her family. Panic edged in.

  "What are we going to do?"

  "There's a new suitor, some baron from Northumberland. A distant relation to Viscount Amesbury, I believe. I hear he's badly scarred and wears a mask."

  Alicia's heart dropped to her stomach. She'd been spared the man who had tried to force himself upon her, as well as the complaining stuffed-shirt who publicly humiliated her. Now she faced a scarred, masked stranger. She pressed her hand over her eyes.

  "The baron's agent is here with his offer. He and father have been speaking for hours.” He paused. “Alicia, there is a way to save yourself."

  She lowered her hand.

  "Lord Amesbury has offered for you, but Father wouldn't consider it. Amesbury asked me to give you this.” He held out a folded paper. “He wants you to elope with him. He promises you an honorable marriage and to be generous with the family."

  Aghast, she stared. “You wish me to wed Armand's killer?"

  Looking anguished, Robert dragged a hand through his hair. “I think he'll treat you better than the others would have. And I don't hold Amesbury entirely responsible for the duel. I should have stopped them, but Armand was so eager for it. And that woman was there, egging them both on, demanding her honor be defended. Amesbury only shot Armand in the arm. He didn't intend to kill him."

  Bitterness welled up inside her. “His intent does not change the outcome. You may be able to forgive him, but I cannot.” She crumpled up the note and threw it down. “I'll take the scarred stranger over Cole Amesbury.” Chill spread through her limbs and her words choked her.

  The following morning at breakfast, Uncle Willard announced that their transaction had been agreed upon, and all they lacked was Alicia's cooperation.

  "The baron will meet you this afternoon. Unless you object, he will wed you after he obtains a special license."

  Alicia sat with her head bowed, a
bsorbing the news that her marriage to a stranger had already been arranged. “Have you any notion of his character?"

  "His agent was most loyal to him and assured me that the baron lacked any vices that normally plague the aristocracy. He doesn't gamble or drink excessively, and has never kept a mistress. He said his lord is most generous and is viewed as a kind and tolerant man by his servants and peers."

  Alicia was frankly surprised that Uncle had taken such care as to inquire about the baron. None of the other men he insisted she consider had appeared to have undergone any sort of scrutiny.

  With Hannah's aid, she dressed with care to prepare to meet her future husband. Hannah and Alicia waited nervously in the parlor. Uncle promised to be present, but Robert had already drunk himself into oblivion.

  "A grand coach is here,” Hannah said from the window.

  Alicia listened with pounding heart as the footmen spoke. The other voice was too low to carry to her, but footsteps neared.

  "Lord Amesbury to see you, Miss."

  Alicia shot up out of her seat. “Lord Amesbury!"

  Uncle Willard strode in. “Ah, excellent. Show the baron in."

  Then she realized her error. Not Cole Amesbury, but rather that distant relation, the baron, had come as promised. Her mingled relief and disappointment left her reeling, but she did not have time to examine her feelings.

  A large man stood in the doorway, his face covered by a loose, cloth mask. A billowing, dark green cloak concealed all but his legs and head. An ominous sight, he executed a stiff bow and limped into the room, leaning heavily on a cane. Her imagination conjured images of a monstrous, twisted face. The dark form stopped too close. Gulping down her fear, she refrained from stepping away. Hannah's hand felt icy in hers.

  As Uncle Willard made the introductions, Alicia and Hannah sank into curtseys.

  "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 was seated 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, of what an alliance with him would do for 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. No other suitor 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.

  She directed her attention to the baron who was speaking.

  "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 looked down at her wet, crushed handkerchief.

  "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.

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  CHAPTER 14

  The day of the wedding dawned bright and clear. 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 frightening-looking man, and worse, that she did it to save them all from ruin. For Hannah's sake, Alicia 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 finally had 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 silken undergarments lay nearby; gifts that had arrived from her future husband, delivered by the newly arrived maid, also courtesy of her betrothed.

  Monique, a 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. Monique's arrival also brought a noticeable improvement in the quality and variety of food, and Alicia suspected that the baron must have provided some sort of advance to her uncle.

  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 hugged her. “It isn't as if we'll never see each other again. I'm sure he'll allow us to visit.” They'd taken to calling her future husband “he” rather than by any name.

  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 got 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 go for a walk,” 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.” He looked determined.

  She tied her bonnet under her chin and pulled on her wrap. “Very well, Lord Amesbury."

  "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."

  "I can handle him. Walk with me. Please.” The desperation 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 give your uncle all the money
promised him. And I'll provide a trust for Hannah's dowry. My Aunt Livy has agreed to sponsor her the next Season. She has connections and can ensure Hannah is invited to Almack's, and is presented to the queen.” The intensity and desperation in his eyes chipped at her resolve.

  She stared in amazement. “Why would you do this, Lord Amesbury?"

  "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 do 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."

  He looked stricken. “Because of Armand."

  She made no reply. None was necessary.

  He nodded, his face hardening. After a stiff bow, he turned away. She watched his broad back and shoulders as he left. 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?"

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

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