by Donna Hatch
"I enjoy chess,” Cole replied easily. At least, he hoped it sounded easy.
After dinner, they sat down together across the chess board. Alicia flitted about the room before finally settling down in a chair by the window.
"It's raining,” she commented dully.
Dobbs knocked and delivered a missive to Alicia.
"Thank you, Dobbs.” She frowned at the seal on the envelope. “It's from Lord Amesbury. Ah, I mean, my husband. Nicholas."
She had probably added the last for his benefit, due to his comment about her never using her husband's Christian name. She broke the seal and opened the letter.
"He's coming. He apologized for his absence but he will arrive shortly. That was thoughtful.” Her voice betrayed her lack of enthusiasm.
Cole nodded slowly. Robert watched him curiously, an eyebrow raising and his eyes flicked between Cole and Alicia as if awaiting reactions.
Keeping his face devoid of expression, Cole said, “Then I will take my leave as soon as he arrives."
Alicia straightened. “You're leaving?"
"As you said. It is for your husband to look after you. Not me. I will remain to watch over you until he can take over that duty. I have responsibilities elsewhere."
And if the person who wanted the Palmers dead thought they were only guarded by a few elderly servants and a cripple who couldn't even sit a horse, then all the better. The murderer would attempt to strike when he perceived them most vulnerable. Cole would remain hidden and could protect them better. He'd sent a letter by express courier to Grant, telling him of the events Alicia had revealed. Perhaps it would help with the investigation.
"Check.” Robert grinned at him.
Cole snatched his thoughts back to the game. He countered and tried to clear his mind, but his whole body thrummed with awareness. Alicia remained tantalizingly close and yet, more out of reach than ever. She resumed her pacing, the firelight and shadows playing hide and seek with her soft, womanly contours.
"Check."
Blast! Focus, Amesbury.
He countered again. Alicia carefully folded the letter and rewrapped it in the envelope.
"Checkmate."
With a sound of disgust, Cole pushed away from the table. “Forgive me for not providing much sport. You played very well, Robert. And now, I believe I will retire."
They said their good nights and he headed upstairs, weary deep in his soul. He felt her presence behind him in the hallway.
"Cole."
He froze. Alicia's voice, gentle, full of regret, nearly undid him. She did not speak until she came within arm's reach. He folded his hands together behind his back and looked down at her lovely, guileless face. With childlike vulnerability, her eyes probed his.
"I'm sorry. My action was uncalled for. I can't believe I slapped you. Please accept my apology."
"Apology accepted,” he replied more abruptly than he meant.
She winced and moistened her lips. “You were right about everything. I shouldn't have lashed out at you. And I'm sorry for becoming angry that you went to an investigator. I feared if we brought in an outsider, that he might implicate Robert. Cole, I know he didn't do it. It's not possible."
He looked down at her pleading face and gentled his voice. “I don't believe he's guilty of murder, either. Or even capable of it. And trust me, I said as much."
Relief sweetened her face and she touched his arm. He swallowed hard and clenched his hands.
"Thank you. I'm sorry. I seem to be continually trying to find sinister motives for your actions. I see now that it was only out of a sense of duty that you've been helping me. I am grateful.” Her voice sounded oddly choked.
Duty. That may have spurred his initial interest in Alicia, but did not even begin to touch his motives now. Best if that's how she saw it, despite his earlier blunder at confessing he loved her.
No doubt she thought he used the words merely in his attempt to seduce her.
"I'm happy to be of service to you. Good night, Alicia."
"Good night, Cole."
Inside his room, he waved away Stephens and sat by the fireplace, wondering if there would always be so much left unspoken between them. Or if he would ever be free to tell her the burning desires of his heart. First, he had to keep her safe. He paced, casting about for ideas, solutions, turning them over and discarding them.
Then he plotted how he might lure the killer to strike again. This time, Cole would be ready. With his own kind of justice.
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CHAPTER 26
"The Baron's coach is here,” Dobbs announced as she entered the drawing room. “I've prepared the bedroom that you requested."
At the head housekeeper's words, Alicia stood to go greet the baron. Nicholas. She needed to think of him as Nicholas.
But his arrival meant Cole would leave now.
Heavy of heart, she followed Dobbs downstairs to greet her husband. The baron's valet, Jeffries, barked commands while others swarmed in the entryway. When the baron entered, they stopped and gaped, as unnerved by him as she'd been at first. Jeffries frowned at the servants and took a step toward the baron. Whether he did this out of protectiveness for his masked employer, or as a show that his master was not a man to fear, she could not decide.
Jeffries nodded to her. “Milady.” He drew himself up importantly and turned to the baron. “You're room is prepared, my lord, and your things will be situated to your satisfaction."
"Thank you, Jeffries."
Alicia arranged her mouth into a smile as the dark, masked figure turned toward her.
"Alicia, my darling. You have become even more beautiful since I last saw you."
His soft, muffled voice evoked an unexpected warmth within her. Awkwardly, she moved to him but then hesitated. “It was kind of you to come, my lord."
"I came the moment I knew of your loss,” he said in that familiar muffled voice.
"You did?"
She could hear the smile underneath his mask. “I did. I'm your husband. I should be at your side in times such as these."
Touched, Alicia could barely utter, “Thank you."
She saw to it that her husband had settled comfortably in the room next to hers. Somehow, it seemed right to put him in Armand's old room.
"The trip has tired me, my darling. I believe I shall rest before dinner.” The baron—Nicholas, she corrected herself—sat heavily on his chair inside his room and allowed Jeffries to remove his boots.
Alicia left his room. As she passed Cole's open door, she saw his valet carefully packing everything into a trunk.
"Is he leaving so soon, Stephens?” she asked the valet, pausing at the doorway.
"I'm afraid so, my lady,” he replied soberly. “He has his reasons."
Alicia nodded, heaviness settling over her. What a tangled mess. She wanted both men in her life, and yet refused to allow either one of them to love her. She hovered in the doorway, while Stephens packed Cole's clothing. “You are fond of him."
Stephens’ mouth curved upward in a lopsided smile, brightening his already striking Romany features. “Aye. I've known him a long time. We served on the same ship. He saved my life more than once."
"It's more than that."
He nodded. “He's a good man. A good friend. One of the few who looked past my half-Romany breeding. After we came home, he offered me a position and was patient while I learned it.” He looked as though he wanted to say more and chewed his lip in indecision, his handsome, dark face pensive. “There is much more to him than people see."
She nodded, heaviness deepening. “You're right. They see a scandalous libertine, but he is much more than that."
"Aye, he is."
Alicia wondered how much of her relationship with his master Stephens knew. Probably much. “Take care of him."
"Count on it, my lady."
After donning her bonnet, she went to walk in the gardens. The summer was waning and soon autumn would arrive. She gree
ted the gardener bending over his ‘lovelies’ and admired the flowers still in bloom. She made her usual circuit, passing, without a qualm, the place where the adder had bitten her, and completed the circle back to the house.
Cole, astride his white horse, cantered toward the stables. From her viewpoint in the gardens, Alicia imagined him as a knight of old riding his destrier, with a sword strapped to his hip and chain mail under his tunic, her favor tied around his arm, returning from slaying enemies or another noble quest.
He dismounted and led his horse toward the stables. He glanced her way, did a double-take and halted. As if he fought some inner battle, he stood motionless. Then he moved toward her, looking wholly, dangerously male, but his face was solemn, and his blue eyes were shielded.
Alicia moistened her lips. “Stephens tells me you're leaving now."
He nodded, his body stiff and guarded.
"It's already late afternoon,” she protested with rising alarm. “You won't be able to go very far today."
"There are plenty of inns along the way where I can lodge."
"You could stay here tonight. Begin your trip back in the morning, or in a few days. You haven't even seen your cousin."
"We spoke at length out near the highway.” His smile saddened, and she caught a glimpse of the hurt inside him. “It will be better this way. Without me reopening old wounds, perhaps you can begin a real marriage with your husband.” He quickly kissed her cheek and left without giving her an opportunity to reply.
She remained motionless in an attempt to sort out her thoughts. She failed, and fled back to the house out of fear of missing his departure.
While Cole's servants loaded his things into the coach, Alicia hovered in the foyer and tried to think of something to say, but nothing seemed appropriate. Or proper. Or honorable.
When he came downstairs, his eyes softened and his lazy grin reappeared. Still, underneath it, that hint of inner pain remained. Or was it resentment?
"You've come to see me off, have you? How thoughtful."
"I ... I wanted to thank you for escorting me here. And for—” she choked on her words, “—for all you've done to help me. Us."
He kissed her hand without lingering. “I'm your humble servant, my lady. Goodbye.” He abruptly turned to the coach.
Suddenly desperate to detain him, she cried out. “Cole."
With one foot on the step, he turned back, eyed her thoughtfully, and returned. He stood close enough that she could smell his masculine scent, feel his warmth. His expression was perfectly inscrutable, but she felt the tension radiating off his body. He waited while she struggled with her torn desires, the words she wished she could express.
"Please don't leave like this."
"Like what, Alicia?” His voice was toneless.
"Angry. Hurt."
He traced her cheek with ungloved, gentle fingers. Without speaking, he turned and walked out of her life. She watched the carriage pull away, unable to shake the gloom that settled over her.
Robert slung an arm around her shoulders. “You're pitiable."
"Be silent, you fool,” she snapped, throwing off his arm and walking purposefully away. She should look in on Hannah. She had been abed for three days and complained of a constant headache. Even for her, she seemed unusually ill.
Then perhaps she should go speak with cook about dinner. After all, now that her husband was here, her loyalty and attention should be to him. What was Nicholas's favorite dish? He never said. And he never ate with her, so she had no way of knowing. She could have asked. She should have cared enough to ask him a great many things. They often had pheasant for dinner, perhaps because he favored it. She would go ask Cook to prepare pheasant.
She dried her eyes and peeped in Hannah's room. Her sister slept, her breath rattling a little, but she looked peaceful.
A well-rested Nicholas appeared to be in high spirits as he spoke to Robert and Alicia during dinner. He had taken his meal in private as was his custom but had joined them for conversation while they dined.
"How thoughtful of you to have Cook prepare my favorite dishes, Alicia,” he said with a smile in his voice. Then he turned to Robert. “I'm grateful for your hospitality, Mr. Palmer."
Robert looked startled, as if he hadn't yet grown comfortable with the baron's thoughtful ways. “You're quite welcome here, my lord.” He turned an affectionate smile on Alicia. “Thank you for letting my cousin come. I would have remained in drunken oblivion if she hadn't."
It was partially true. Out of respect for her sensibilities, he only drank himself into a stupor late at night instead of all day long.
Alicia raised her chin. “I excel at waking up drunk men with cold pitchers of water."
Robert actually shook off his grief enough to laugh mildly. It was the first time she'd heard him laugh since she'd arrived. It occurred to her that Cole had made it easy for her to laugh, when she'd found it difficult to do so. There was such good in him. Protected behind a façade of a careless, reprehensible rake, and his annoying habit of tempting her to betray her husband, there was a better Cole, a man of honor and decency. He evoked strength and tenderness in her. He made her want to stop running away from her difficulties and face them. Guiltily, she glanced at Lord Amesbury. Her husband. Nicholas. She needed to face her duties regarding him. Be his.
Robert bid them good night. She heard his footfalls up the stairs and hoped he wouldn't drink himself into unconsciousness the moment he was alone.
Nicholas’ voice broke the ensuing silence. “Come sit with me, my love."
Alicia followed him into the study and did not resist when he took her hand in his glove. “Tell me what has you so distracted."
"I am concerned about Robert and Hannah.” She related her fears that someone had killed her parents, brother, and now uncle. “Cole contacted an investigator, without my knowledge, I might add, and I fear Robert will be their prime suspect. He has already suffered so much; I don't want him to endure anything more. And I worry that Robert will be the murderer's next victim. Or Hannah.” The thought of sweet, gentle Hannah, helpless in the face of violence awoke something akin to panic.
"Or you,” Nicholas said grimly. “After the highwaymen incident, I suspected your life was in danger and alerted my servants. I did not speak of it to you because I did not wish to alarm you, but all my servants have been watching over you. My coachman in particular is an excellent shot. We will protect you and your sister and cousin, my love, do not fear. As far as the investigator Cole mentioned, he probably only went to his brother, Grant. I am sure Grant will expend his efforts in the right direction."
His assurance comforted her, oddly enough, despite his imposing appearance, and her anxieties faded. As his hand held hers, she felt a desire to touch his skin instead of the coldly impersonal glove.
"I admire you for your devotion to your cousin, Alicia."
She shrugged. “We've been dear friends since our childhood. He and Armand were inseparable. I always felt jealous when Robert came to spend the summers with us because then I was no longer the center of Armand's world. They tried to lose me frequently, but more often, they allowed me to tag along since I was difficult to pry away from my twin. Eventually, they accepted that I would always be there. Just the three of us. Hannah was so much younger, that I'm afraid we quite ignored her. And now, she and Robert are all the family I have."
"You have other family now, Alicia."
She looked up at him in surprise and then realized that he meant himself. “Of course, my lord."
"Will you stay with me, Alicia?"
She hesitated, uncertain of his meaning.
"I know that you did not marry me by choice, but rather out of a need to help your family. I should do the honorable thing and release you, but I find that I am reluctant to let you go.” His voice quieted. “If you desire, I will annul our marriage and you can return to London this Season and search for a husband of your choice. I realize that the last time I offered to let you
stay in London while I returned to my country home, you thought I planned to drag you through a divorce or throw you out on the streets."
Guiltily, Alicia twisted her wedding band.
"I'm offended that you would think me so heartless. You may stay in my London house and you will want for nothing. I will continue to care for you financially until you find another.” He paused. “I will, if you wish it. But that's not what I desire. So now I ask you; will you stay with me, or do you ask me to give you up?"
Tears sprang to her eyes. She didn't bother to point out that an annulment was nearly impossible. Perhaps he had connections she did not know, but not even the most important connections would make a clean annulment. Anything would be messy, public, and scandalous. But she said nothing. None of those things mattered. The man behind the mask was not a monster. He was a warm and caring man with the needs of any man. And like a true gentleman, he was giving her a way out. He had treated her with kindness and more tenderness than any other man.
Except Cole.
But Cole had his motives. Nicholas had none, only a hope that his wife would develop affection for him. And be his wife in every way.
She did have affection for him, she realized. It was not pity, or duty, or guilt. She truly cared for him. A deep desire to soothe his hurts, offer him the solace of her body crept over her.
"Oh, Nicholas, of course I will stay with you. You are the finest man I know."
His breathing became ragged beneath his mask.
She had to fist her hand to avoid ripping it off his face. How she longed to see emotion in his eyes, the shape of his smile. She could overlook his scars to the man underneath. Couldn't she?
"That is the first time you have ever called me by my given name,” he said in a hushed voice.
She flushed. She had treated him badly and purposefully kept him at a distance.
He reached for her, but his hand paused mid-air. “May I ... hold you, my love?"
Alicia paused, swallowed, and then leaned in toward him. He gathered her close, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest. Solid. Strong. There was nothing weak or crippled about the way he held her.
