Fortune's Bride

by VICTORIA MALVEY

  Gasping, her eyes flew open and she snatched her hand away from him.

  She was saved from responding when Lord Har-grave bellowed, "I say, Fortune, are you volunteering for the job?"

  "I wouldn't mind filling that position," called out Lord Pettibone.

  At the ribald comment, the teasing light in Ian's eyes faded before he pushed to his feet and faced Lord Pettibone. Alyssa could see the anger that vibrated through Ian. "I believe you owe the lady an apology."

  The room grew quiet as everyone latched onto the newest exchange that promised fodder for gossip. Confusion darkened Lord Pettibone's expression. "Pardon mer

  "You heard me, Pettibone. I believe you owe the lady an apology," he repeated.

  "The Gypsy?"

  While Lord Pettibone's astonishment failed to sur-prise Alyssa, she could see Ian's anger grow.

  "Indeed," Ian replied sharply.

  "This is not necessary," Alyssa began, only to have Ian cut off her protest.

  "It most certainly is." Crossing his arms, Ian glared at Lord Pettibone. "What is it to be? Shall you apologize or shall we step outside to discuss this matter like gentlemenr

  Alyssa held her breath as Lord Pettibone drew back his shoulders in obvious affront to Ian's demand. Finally, Lord Pettibone backed down, offering her a nod. "My apologies, Madam Zora. I spoke before I thought."

  "That's quite all right, my lord," Alyssa murmured.

  Oblivious to the scene he was creating, Ian continued to give Lord Pettibone a hard stare. "See that it doesn't happen again."

  Flushing in embarrassment, Alyssa gathered up her cards, tucked them into her bag, and slipped off her chair.

  "The Gypsy is leaving," exclaimed Lady Treport, rising to her feet.

  Cringing inwardly, Alyssa spun to face her hostess. "My performance is at an end for this evening."

  "But why?" Lady Treport grew petulant. "I paid you for the entire evening."

  "And I provided you with entertainment, did I not?"

  Frowning, Lady Treport waved toward Ian. "While I have enjoyed myself this evening, I couldn't help but notice that Mr. Fortune was the only one who predicted the future tonight."

  "Not so," Alyssa countered. "After all, who predicted that Mr. Fortune would begin to see into the future?'

  A look of chagrin passed over Lady Treport's features.

  Stepping forward, Ian bowed to their hostess. "Please allow me to compensate Madam Zora as I received great pleasure this evening and would be displeased to imagine it was at your expense."

  Lady Treport's hand fluttered against her chest. "Why, Mr. Fortune, that's quite a generous offer. However, I must refuse you." Sniffing lightly, she continued, "Never let it be said that the Treports can't pay their debts."

  "I'm confident such a sentiment would never pass anyone's lips," Ian murmured smoothly.

  "Very well, then." Gathering her shawl around her, Alyssa dipped into a soft curtsey. "I shall be off now, Lady Treport."

  "Madam Zora..." Ian began, but Alyssa didn't wait. Instead, she hurried out of the room, wondering how her plan could have gotten so mixed-up.

  * * *

  When the Gypsy didn't even pause at his call, Ian began to step around Lady Treport, only to be pulled to a halt by a strong hand on his shoulder.

  "Why don't you join me for a drink?" Peter asked in a jovial voice. "I imagine you could use one after tonight's excitement."

  Though his instinct was to pull free from his friend's grasp, Ian hesitated when he saw the seriousness in Peter's gaze, so at odds with the smile upon his face. Feeling the weight of everyone's eyes upon him, Ian lifted his hands, shrugging toward the wide-eyed audience. "It would appear that Madam Zora didn't care for my reading. If you remember though, I did try to warn her that she was mistaken in believing I had any sort of mystical powers."

  Inside, Ian was fighting against his need to follow the Gypsy. Biting back a sigh, he turned toward Peter. "Lead the way," Ian said, injecting a bright note into his voice.

  Down the hall, Peter opened the door to Lord Tre-port's study and stepped aside to allow Ian to enter. The minute Ian walked into the room, Peter rounded on him.

  "What the devil are you thinking, man?"

  Blinking, Ian asked, "Pardon me?"

  "All that business with Madam Zora!" Waving his hands in the air, Peter began to pace around the room. "I thought your objective was to find yourself a titled bride."

  "It is," Ian replied, wondering where Peter was leading.

  "Then you're doing a poor job of going about it," Peter ground out. "You continue to flirt with your pretty little Gypsy in front of all the ladies and soon everyone will consider you of coarse blood. And no man will marry his daughter to you."

  His stomach turned at the thought. "Come now. Surely you exaggerate."

  "Not one bit. A gentleman does not consort with females of a lower ilk in public."

  "Might I remind you my mother was considered of lower ilk, yet she remains one of the finest women I've ever met?"

  "I'm certain that's true, Ian, but that's not what I'm saying." Shaking his head, Peter sank into a chair. "My point is that if you wish to capture the attentions of a titled lady, then you need to overcome what society views as your shortcomings."

  As distasteful as Ian considered Peter's assertions, the feet remained that he was right. While he would never apologize or hide the feet that his beloved mother had been common, he couldn't forget that he'd long dreamed of marrying a lady of station... and flaunting her before his grandfather.

  Yet, what would his dream cost him?

  Rubbing a hand against his temple, Ian murmured slowly, "To tell you the God's honest truth, Peter, I don't know how I'm going to handle this problem I seem to be having with Madam Zora. Every time I'm around her, I seem to lose control and behave in an outrageous manner. I truly don't know what I'm going to do."

  "What do you mean, you don't know what you're going to do?" Peter asked, his tone incredulous. "If you wish to marry well, then what you need to do is perfectly obvious. No more scenes like the one we all just witnessed, no more flirtatious banter with the lovely Madam Zora, and no more focusing solely upon the Gypsy whenever she enters a room." Leaning forward, Peter rested his elbows upon his knees. "You must behave as society expects if you wish to marry a member of the ton."

  "I do try to follow proper etiquette, Peter," Ian conceded, "but never at the cost of my self-respect. I need to be my own man, to do as I see fit. I can't simply ignore when someone insults Madam Zora."

  "Then don't, but that doesn't mean you have to tell her fortune, for God's sake." An expression of exasperation covered Peter's race. "You were talking about her future lover out there... as though you were offering yourself up for the position."

  Feeling the sting of Peter's words, Ian curbed his temper, for he also saw the truth in them. "I know I behaved poorly today and I will try to alter my behavior in the future. However, I will not allow anyone to insult Madam Zora nor will I give her a direct cut if she addresses me first, and if that costs me a tided bride... then so be it."

  The way Peter stared at him, Ian began to wonder if he'd suddenly sprouted horns. "I don't understand you," Peter said finally. "You told me just a few days ago that you'd worked tar too hard to get to this point."

  "I know, I know." Sinking down into a chair, Ian rested his head against the leather back. "But I didn't realize how different the reality of entering society and securing a bride would be from my imaginings."

  "Well, if you're going to succeed at your plan, you'd best get over that feeling as soon as possible and figure out how you're going to handle your little Gypsy."

  "I will," Ian vowed... despite the feet he had no idea how he was going to be polite to Madam Zora and ignore her at the same time.

  * * *

  "Your cousins have disappeared, my lord."

  The Earl of Tonneson waved his beringed fingers. "And this should matter to me? Why?"

  Isaac Meiser
held back a sigh. "Because they are two young, defenseless, and destitute females."

  Widening his eyes, the earl shook his head. "Do you have a point to all of this?

  "Indeed I do, my lord," Meiser replied, trying not to grind his teeth in frustration. Still, he'd learned long ago that he could accomplish far more with the aris-tocracy if he used his wits. "I'm merely concerned about your welfare."

  "My welfare?" the earl asked, suddenly alert. "How the devil could those girls affect me?"

  "What if someone were to discover you'd left them destitute in the wilds of Northumberland? It would hardly reflect well upon your illustrious name," Meiser pointed out.

  Scowling fiercely, the earl rose from his settee and began to pace around the room. "I suppose you're right. Blast it all! Why didn't those two chits have the good sense to stay put in the cottage I'd generously provided for them?"

  Glancing around the elaborately decorated room, Meiser compared it to the tiny home he'd seen up in Northumberland. The very shallowness of the earl never ceased to amaze him. However, he remained silent, for he would be able to help die Porter sisters only with the earl's assistance.

  "Tell me how to fix this problem, Meiser," demanded the earl as he stopped pacing. "I can't have anyone saying that I don't care for family. It would reflect poorly upon me... which is something I must avoid at this delicate time."

  "Delicate time, my lord?"

  "Yes, yes," the earl replied, exasperated. "I'm only now receiving invitations to the finest homes in England. I can't risk losing the acceptance of society because of two no-account chits."

  Though he bristled at the dismissive manner in which die earl referred to his cousins, Meiser again refrained from uttering a word. Instead, he offered a carefully coached suggestion. "I believe it would be in your best interest, my lord, if you were to locate the girls and settle them comfortably in their cottage." Pausing for effect, Meiser finally said, "Of course it would require that you reinstate their monthly stipend, but I'm quite certain you'll see that avoiding the blot to your name is well worth that paltry sum. Though you didn't agree with me the last time I suggested this solution, surely you can now see that it is the only way to save face."

  "Just another drain upon me," groaned the earl as he lay back down onto the settee. "Very well then, Meiser. I'm entrusting you to find the girls and put them back in their proper place."

  Rising from his chair, Meiser bowed to the earl. "I shall discover the girls' whereabouts as soon as possible."

  That's probably best," agreed die earl. "After all, there's no telling how much mischief they could get into."

  Mischief? Meiser couldn't believe his ears. "I believe, my lord, that your cousins will be far too busy trying to survive to get into much... mischief."

  "Then you know nothing about females, Meiser. I assure you they don't waste their pretty little heads thinking about such a mundane topic as survival."

  Meiser swallowed his distaste and forced himself to smile. "Undoubtedly you're correct, my lord," he murmured, seeing no point in annoying the earl. After all, he'd gotten what he wanted. The earl had agreed to his plan, so Meiser could now dip into the limited resources remaining in the earl's accounts to help him to find the Porter girls.

  "If you'll excuse me, my lord, I shall begin my search."

  With a wave of his hand, the earl dismissed him without a glance. Ignoring the insult, Meiser strode from the room, concentrating upon the best way to locate the girls.

  Of course he had no intention of returning the girls to the little cottage up north. No indeed. In reality, Meiser knew he was now on a search for his future bride.

  * * *

  "I can't believe I let you talk me into doing this."

  "Stop complaining," replied Calla with a laugh. "And stop worrying. No one will recognize you."

  Looking at the black veil draped over her face, Alyssa had to agree, but she would never admit that to her sister. "This is a foolish risk."

  "You've done nothing but talk about me having a Season, so what better way to prepare me for society than to ease me into it." Kicking at a stone on the path winding through Hyde Park, Calk flung her arms wide. "Besides, it's such a glorious day."

  Since she couldn't keep from grinning at her sister's enthusiasm, Alyssa was glad for the covering over her face. Sometimes it was a struggle to act like a serious, responsible adult when she wanted nothing more than to join her sister in the joy of the day.

  "Though I have to admit, Alyssa, I don't wonder at your reluctance to venture into public today. After all, you have to wear that dreadful outfit so no one will recognize you as the infamous Madam Zora." Calla wrinkled her nose at the mourning dress Alyssa wore. "I vow that dress might have even discouraged me!"

  Unable to hold in her laughter, Alyssa chuckled at her sister's comments. "Ah, Calla, you are so good for me," she said finally. "Sometimes I wonder if... Oh, no!"

  "What?" Calla asked, glancing around. "What's wrong?"

  But Alyssa didn't answer. She was too busy fighting back the alarm as she watched Ian Fortune approach from the opposite direction. Of all the rotten luck!

  "What is it?"

  Drawing back her shoulders, Alyssa grabbed hold of her self-control. "It's him. Ian Fortune."

  Calla's eyes grew round "Good! I'm excited to meet him."

  "You won't be meeting him," Alyssa said swiftly, as~ founded that her sister would actually imagine she'd introduce them. Lord, Alyssa had a hard enough time dissuading Calla from focusing in upon Ian now. If she met him, there would be no quieting her.

  "I don't see why not. He obviously bothers you and that, in turn, affects me."

  "My darling Calla, not everything leads back to you. The only reason I don't want you to meet him is so that there is no chance that he might recognize me."

  "In that outfit?" Calla muffled a laugh behind her hand. "Not likely."

  Glancing down at her dress, Alyssa tried not to let her sister's comment upset her. And she certainly didn't want to admit that part of her hated for Ian to see her like this... even if he didn't know it was she. "We're smarter not to take any chances."

  "We won't take any," Calla insisted. "Besides, I deserve to meet him. If he's the reason you wouldn't even talk to me when you got home last night, then I believe I have the right to an introduction."

  "The right?" Alyssa shook her head. 'To borrow your own phrase—not likely."

  "Well, I should. Do you deny he's the one who upset you again last night?"

  Last night. When he'd read her fortune and told her she would meet the man who completes her... and become his lover. A shiver ran through Alyssa as she remembered how images of Ian had danced through her head, keeping her awake all night. The infuriating, intriguing, witty, glorious Mr. Ian Fortune had indeed disturbed her far too much for comfort. She wasn't ready to see him again. Not now. Not when he'd haunted her every thought. And she certainly wasn't prepared to have Calla meet him and increase her sister's desire to spin fairy tales around him.

  "See? You can't deny it," Calla said with a triumphant smile. Twisting around, she asked, "So which one is he?"

  "Calla, please!" Alyssa exclaimed. Clasping onto her sister's arm, Alyssa glanced at the people strolling by them. "Don't make a scene. We don't want him to notice us."

  "You're becoming a dreadful bore, Alyssa," Calla said with a sigh. "Very well, then. Just point him out to me so I can be on my best behavior when he passes by."

  Wondering if she was going to regret her actions, Alyssa turned her sister toward Ian. "He's heading right toward us."

  A gasp broke from Calla. "You mean your Ian is the one with the dark hair that looks like he walked straight out of a wonderful dream?"

  "Yes... only he's no dream prince." Alyssa could picture the devilish glint in Ian's eyes all too well. "He's far too... untamed," she finished, unable to think of a better word to describe the wildness she sensed inside of him.

  "Oooooh, even better." Tucking her
arm into Alyssa's, Calla leaned closer. "I had no idea that your Mr. Fortune was so handsome."

  "Will you please stop calling him my Mr. Fortune?" Alyssa hissed under her breath, not wanting anyone to overhear.

  "I don't know why you're worried about him exposing us. He looks far too nice."

  "Looks can be deceiving."

  Calla shook her head. "Not in this instance. I'm certain of it."

  Groaning softly, Alyssa looked at her sister and recognized all too easily the gleam of excitement in Calla's eyes. "Don't even think of doing something foolish," Alyssa warned.

  "Foolish? Never," murmured Calla.

  Despite her sister's assurance, Alyssa held her breath as they walked ever closer to Ian. The moment they drew abreast of him, Calla collapsed onto the ground in the most dreadful swoon Alyssa had ever seen.

  ♥ Scanned by Coral ♥

  6

  Bewildered as to why a lovely young lady would literally throw herself at his feet in such an obvious manner, Ian nonetheless came to her aid. Crouching down next to the fallen girl, Ian reached out to gently tap on her cheek. "Miss? Miss? Are you all right?"

  The black crow accompanying the pretty blonde sunk onto her knees as well. "Calla!" hissed the widow. "Get up this instant!"

  Ian's head snapped up as the woman's voice tugged at him, the tones in her demand striking him as familiar. Peering closer, Ian tried to see past the black veil draped over the lady's face. But every inch of her was covered in the dark cloth, giving him not even a hint as to her identity.

  Opening his mouth to ask her name, Ian snapped it shut as the girl at his feet moaned loudly. His cheeks heated as he remembered the poor chit. Badly done of him to be wondering about a lady's name while her companion lay at his feet... even if she hadn't truly swooned!

  "Miss," he began again, reaching out to pat the back of the young girl's gloved hand. "Would you like me to—"

  "Enough of this, Calla," interrupted the widow.