The Stranger She Married

by Donna Hatch

  She despised herself.

  * * * *

  Alicia took a carriage out to Hyde Park early enough in the morning to avoid the crowds. Her husband had already left for an appointment, so Alicia ordered the tamest mare hitched to the phaeton. The servants groused about wanting her to take the landau with a driver, but Alicia had grown weary of the smothering attention of the servants. She drove the phaeton herself, with only a footman in accompaniment, confident that she'd meet few people at this unfashionable time of day.

  The morning proved bright and clear, and a chorus of birds serenaded her as she drove along the paths of the park. In the distance, she spotted two figures, one astride a magnificent white horse. She recognized the rider the same instant that she recognized the animal. Sunlight dappled Cole's figure astride his beautiful white horse, André, standing next to a carriage that she realized was the baron's. As she moved closer, she spotted her husband's cloaked form inside the carriage.

  Cole spoke earnestly, his face solemn. They appeared deep in conversation, but when Cole noticed her, his face brightened. He said something to the baron and gestured toward her. The baron turned his masked face her direction. They both raised their hands in greeting.

  Feeling strangely as though she'd been caught with rival suitors, she guided her carriage to them, and managed a smile. “I didn't realize your appointment was at the park with Cole,” she said to her husband upon her arrival.

  "I've already finished my first appointment, my dear,” the baron said softly. “I thought I'd enjoy the fresh air first before going to my next one. Meeting Cole here was a happy coincidence."

  "Do you have time to accompany me to my club first? I have not had breakfast yet,” Cole said to the baron.

  "Nor I,” the baron said, his voice hushed as if deeply troubled. “I accept."

  Alicia realized that she had intruded and wondered what had her husband so troubled. Her behavior last night?

  "Then I shall bid you both good morning.” She inclined her head to them and snapped the reins.

  After passing them, she glanced back to see that they had fallen into deep conversation again. Cole, his expression grave, dismounted, tied up his horse behind the baron's coach and got inside. The coach drove toward the park entrance.

  Alicia frowned. Seeing them together came as a stark reminder that she might be coming between not only cousins, but close friends. She needed to stop seeing Cole. No good would come of this dual loyalty.

  But the following afternoon, Cole bounded in, his smile lighting up the gloomy day, and she lost her resolve.

  "You must save me,” he exclaimed.

  Unable to resist his smile, she patted the seat next to her.

  He accepted her invitation and held out a printed piece of stationary. “I have been invited to the one hundredth birthday celebration for the grandfather of one my father's closest friends."

  She paused. “A birthday celebration?"

  "I think one hundred years of life is worth celebrating, don't you?"

  She smiled. “It certainly is."

  "I don't normally accept invitations to these kinds of social affairs. They always end up being husband marts. But my father wrote me and specifically requested that I attend in his stead. Yet, if I attend, I become the target of every lady, widowed and unmarried, in Town. And there are a great many, even this unpopular time of year. Others have come into Town specifically for this celebration. It will be a crush as big as those during the Season. I daren't go unprotected. You have no idea how terrible it is to be so targeted. It's like being a fox, surrounded by hundreds of yelping hounds."

  "It must be such a burden to be so handsome and charming,” she said dryly.

  He smiled wryly at her comment and then sobered. “I'm the heir to a powerful earl and stand to inherit a vast fortune, plus what I have built up with my own investments. They see only a title and a bottomless money vault when they look at me. Others only desire an empty affair. I've grown weary of those. No one knows, or cares, about the man I am underneath.” His voice hushed. “Then again, perhaps they have it aright."

  "You have much more to offer a lady than that."

  "What do I have to offer, Alicia?” Vulnerability crept into his beautiful face.

  She paused to choose her words. “Things you don't often show others. You hide your kindness and your honor behind a careless exterior. You are courageous and you have a deep sense of justice. You are truly caring, but you keep others at arm's length, seldom trusting them to see the man you really are."

  His eyes searched hers, one corner of his mouth raising. “Your good opinion matters more to me than any other's.” Moving slowly, he leaned toward her, desire clear in his face.

  As badly as she wanted to taste his lips, she stood. “What do you plan to do regarding the birthday celebration?"

  He looked as if he'd received a death sentence. “I wish I could avoid it. But for Father, I will attend.” He glanced at her. “Perhaps if you also come, and remain at my side constantly, you might help stave off the harpies who will be there."

  She laughed at the image of bejeweled ladies in ball gowns that were half-human and half-bird circling the ballroom floor with outstretched claws extended toward Cole and screeching, “Pick me, rich earl's son!"

  "Does that mean you will rescue me?” He smiled at her hopefully, and with a twinkle in his eye.

  How could she refuse that charming smile? It reached inside her and drew out a nod. “Yes. I will rescue you. Far be it for me to ever abandon someone in need. Besides, you're family. I vow to protect you from the harpies."

  His relief was like a ray of sunlight spearing a storm cloud. He pressed her hand to his lips. “I am in your debt. Mary and Charles will come for you in their carriage, and I will eagerly await you there. The birthday celebration is Tuesday next."

  She smiled. “I'll be ready."

  "I can hardly wait.” There was a bounce to his step when he left.

  After dinner, the baron joined her with a challenge to play backgammon.

  Alicia moistened her lips as they set up the game pieces. “My lord, with your permission, I've been invited to attend a birthday celebration. If you have no objection, I'd like to accept."

  "You need not ask my permission, Alicia. I shan't attend, but there's no reason why you shouldn't."

  Wanting to be perfectly forthright, she added, “Cole asked me to be there. Something about helping protect him from the ladies who are always pursuing him."

  He lifted his head and she felt his heavy gaze even without through the mask. “I see."

  "Mary and Charles are to pick me up in their carriage. I'll only see Cole at the party."

  He leaned back and steepled his fingers. “What exactly are your feelings regarding Cole?"

  She blinked and looked away. “I find him arrogant and annoying. But he can be diverting. Charming, at times. I can see why Mary and Aunt Livy are fond of him."

  "Is that all?"

  She faltered. “My lord, I have not betrayed you, nor do I plan to, with Cole or any other. I won't go if you wish me to—"

  "Go."

  "You ... you don't mind?"

  "You may do as you please.” He rose and left the room. She looked down at their unfinished game and wondered how she'd become so selfish.

  * * * *

  The evening of the birthday celebration, Alicia asked Monique to do something special with her hair. As a result, a cascade of ringlets showered down the back of her head, lightly brushing her shoulders. She dressed in a silk gown and donned a tastefully simple strand of pearls.

  The baron appeared in the doorway and said in an even voice. “I hope you have a nice time."

  She looked at him sharply, but he turned and left.

  Perhaps after their last failed attempt at intimacy, he did plan on going through with a divorce, despite the irrevocable scandal, and simply had no interest in her activities now that he had decided to cast her off.

  Guilt shot
through her. She couldn't blame him. She was using him and giving nothing in return except a good reason to throw her out on the streets. Perhaps he had found consolation in the arms of a mistress. The image disturbed her more than it assuaged her guilt.

  She pressed a hand over her face. When had it all become so tangled?

  A footman knocked at the door and informed her that Mary and Charles's coach had arrived. Without any joy, she rose and descended the stairs to the waiting coach, however Charles and Mary's lively conversation kept her entertained and they became a merry group.

  Charles and Mary introduced Alicia to the host and hostess, and their surprisingly bright-eyed centurion. The crowd was full, though not the crush it would have been during the London Season. Still, for an off-season gathering, a goodly number of well-wishers had arrived.

  Cole sidled up to her the moment she'd been introduced and had finished greeting the host and hostess.

  "Dearest cousin. You look magnificent. My sister Margaret is here. I'll introduce you. Come."

  Eyes watched Alicia next to Cole. Some nodded, others whispered. Gazes, openly admiring, fixed upon Cole.

  She glanced at him from beneath her lashes. Only a fool would not stare at him in admiration. Broad, striking, exuding strength and masculinity, as well as a sensuality she had never felt from another man, his very presence taunted a lady's sensibilities. He misunderstood his appeal. He assumed as a wealthy viscount and heir to an earldom, he was the target of any member of the ton, or any fortune hunter. He did not seem to understand that no woman alive could look upon him without desiring him.

  Pride swelled within her as she realized that, of all those women, many of them beautiful, he had chosen to be with her. As they walked together through the crush, he gave no outward indication that he even saw any of the ladies clustered in their finery hoping to catch his eye.

  Pity she could no more attain him than they.

  Guiltily, she swallowed. Her husband should be claiming her thoughts, not his errant cousin who so blithely escorted her in his stead. But her husband had practically washed his hands of her.

  Cole led her through the crowd to an imposing lady with sleek, sable hair the same color as his.

  "Alicia, may I present my sister, Lady Hennessey. Margaret, this is Alicia, Nicholas's new wife."

  The intimidating woman turned to her. “Alicia, I'm very happy to finally meet you. Nicholas has told me so much about you.” A smile began in her mouth and finally reached her eyes, casting off the earlier imperiousness.

  Margaret glanced back at Cole and something unspoken passed between them, reminding Alicia of the way she and Armand often communicated with a mere glance. Others used to comment on their finely tuned intuitive ability to converse in avenues beyond normal comprehension. A sharp pain shot through her heart. How she missed him!

  Cole touched her arm. “Alicia?"

  Alicia blinked and focused on Cole's face, realizing her expression must have betrayed her thoughts. She forced a smile and turned to Cole's sister. “I'm very pleased to meet you, my lady."

  Cole excused them from his sister with only a glance and placed his hand under her elbow, guiding her away from the crush. “What is it? You're pale."

  She shrank from his touch and averted her gaze. “Nothing."

  "Do you wish to leave?"

  "Ahh, the infamous Viscount Amesbury.” A booming voice drew their attention to an older gentleman who peered at them through a monocle.

  Cole glanced at Alicia, worry creasing his face, but replied dutifully to the gentleman. “Lord Hamilton."

  Alicia, grateful for the interruption, quietly excused herself to gather her wits before Cole even had the opportunity to introduce her. She felt his eyes follow her as she wound her way through the crowd to a seat.

  Cole had suffered enough. If she revealed how deeply she still felt Armand's loss, she would hurt him again. She remembered the tormented expression she witnessed in him every time the subject arose, and knew he did not need her condemning behavior adding to it. She took a breath and released it slowly.

  As the music began, the hostess arrived with a young man with dark auburn hair. “Lady Amesbury, please allow me to introduce Sir Reginald Orr."

  Alicia and the gentleman exchanged greetings and very proper pleasantries. Then he asked her for a dance.

  In spite of her aching heart, Alicia managed a smile and accepted his arm. He was pleasant, if a touch arrogant. The dance had barely ended when another gentleman was presented to her and he too, asked for a dance. Her mood lightened as she danced and conversed with her partners.

  Cole arrived for a dance, begging for rescue from the harpies. She smiled up into his beautiful eyes, forgetting everything but the feel of dancing in his arms. The warmth of his hands, the glint in his eyes that alternated between playful and dangerous, the potent sensuality of his nearness, all combined into a force she could not easily deny. He awoke every nerve in her body.

  He bowed and stepped back as another arrived to claim a dance. Each partner varied in age, temperament and talkativeness, but danced reasonably well. All lacked Cole's athletic grace, his stirring masculinity, his potent gaze, his expressive mouth. None possessed eyes as beautiful, a face as perfectly sculpted, shoulders as broad. No one had his quick wit, his ready smile, his manner of treating her as though she were the only woman in the room.

  She had to purge him from her thoughts somehow. Such thoughts would only lead to heartache. And betrayal.

  Remembering his plea to be saved from the ladies of the ton, she scanned the crush and finally found him in a circle of older gentlemen. He stood in urbane boredom, blatantly ignoring the ladies who did indeed seem to circle like great predatory birds awaiting his departure from his haven of male companionship.

  One of the gentlemen said something to Cole and he nodded. The group moved toward an exit together. Cole paused, his eyes scanning the room until they fell upon her. His brilliant smile flashed and he mimed billiards. She smiled and nodded to show she understood. That would be a safe, if temporary, reprieve from the harpies. With a sheepish shrug, he left with the men to the obvious disappointment of the ladies watching him.

  One of Alicia's partners tactfully pointed out that she had a piece of lace at her hem that appeared to be dragging. She thanked him for the dance, and the observation, and retreated to the withdrawing room where a willing maid quickly stitched the lace back into place. Alicia smoothed her hair in the mirror and took a moment to make sure no other trimmings had come undone. A group of ladies came in, chattering like a gaggle of geese.

  "Don't worry, Josephine, he won't spend all night in the billiards room,” a petite, plump brunette said.

  "I will secure him this Season, just you watch. He always chooses a widow, something about not wanting to infringe upon a gentleman's wife,” a redhead who must have been Josephine explained to another, much younger young lady.

  The younger lady looked sorrowful. “Oh. So he wouldn't agree to a liaison with me because I'm married, then?"

  "Oh, no. Besides, you're much too young, Violet,” the plump brunette informed her with a knowing tone. “Lord Amesbury prefers ladies with more experience, and therefore skill."

  A fourth giggled. “I'd be tempted to slip too much opium in my husband's drink, if the result might be a romance with him."

  "But we must agree to still be friends no matter who he chooses."

  There were murmurs of affirmative all around while Alicia's heart sank. Standing frozen, for fear of drawing attention to herself, Alicia prayed they would leave soon. She did not want to know details of Cole's debauchery.

  "The problem is, he seems to be besotted by that country miss,” Josephine said. “Whenever he's in public, he's with her."

  "Who is she?” asked another.

  "No one of consequence."

  "No, not his usual type. She seems rather, well, too innocent for his taste, if you know what I mean,” added the brunette. “And too young."
>
  "I heard she's married, so he's either breaking his earlier vow, or it's an innocent friendship."

  "Innocent? Our viscount?” They laughed raucously.

  Alicia forced her hands to relax when her nails dug into her palms. How dare they speak about Cole in such a manner! What did they know about his type? Clearly none of them knew him. Cole was right; women only saw a conquest when they looked at him.

  "Well, you've had a romance with him, so it's my turn,” the redhead informed them with an imperious wave. “And I will do whatever it takes to lure him to my bed. As long as we can keep any ideas of marriage out of his head, we'll have him for a few more years."

  "He'll have to marry sooner or later. After all, he'll be an earl, and he has an obligation to his family line."

  "I'm sure a mere marriage won't stop him from his dalliances."

  "I'm not so sure. He's a difficult man to predict. But what a lover.” She heaved a lusty sigh.

  "Well, we all know he never pursues the debutantes, so perhaps he'll choose a widow for a wife. Why not one of us?"

  The plump brunette's eyes fell upon Alicia and her expression turned frosty. The chattering fell away and all eyes rested upon her. Their hostility rippled through the room.

  Josephine sneered. “Oh. The latest favorite.” Sarcasm dripped from her words.

  "Enjoy him while you can, dearie. He won't be yours much longer,” warned the redhead.

  Alicia squelched her instinctive desire to make a hasty exit. Her clear duty, and her privilege, lay in protecting Cole from such shallow, vicious women.

  She raised her chin. “If any of you possessed any depth of character, you'd know there is much more to Lord Amesbury than his looks or his fortune. I doubt very much any of you possess the intelligence, or the grace to see the man inside.” She smiled victoriously at their amazed expressions. “Excuse me.” She swept past them.

  Cole had returned from his billiards game when Alicia came out of the withdrawing room. His smile, genuine and affectionate, lit up his face as he wound his way through the crowd to her. His gaze focused, his graceful, athletic stride purposeful, he completely ignored the ladies who followed him hungrily with their eyes.