Once again, the earl stumbled backward onto the settee. "You mean to tell me that my cousin has been going to parties pretending to be a Gypsy fortuneteller?"
"That's precisely what I'm saying."
"Blast the foolish wench!" Rubbing at his forehead, the earl tried to sort through the whole mess. "Who else knows about this?"
"As tar as I know, no one," Meiser said. "After all, your cousins never had a Season, nor did they spend any time in society. As a result, no one knows what Lady Alyssa Porter looks like. They've only seen Madam Zora."
The earl tapped his fingers against the arm of the settee. "Then this situation is still controllable."
"How, my lord?" asked Meiser, obviously confused.
"Well, it's quite simple, really. All we need to do is sign the agreement posthaste, making certain the duke never meets Lady Alyssa Porter until after the marriage by proxy."
"And by the time the duke realizes that Lady Alyssa and the Gypsy are one and the same, the marriage will already have taken place," Meiser finished softly.
"Precisely!" crowed the earl, slapping his hands together in delight. "See? Everything will be just fine."
"You can't mean that, my lord." Meiser looked a bit green. "What will happen to your cousin after the duke discovers her true identity?"
"That's hardly important." Waving his hand, Lord Tonneson dismissed his agent's concern. "Shell be the Marchioness of Dorset by then and the duke will have no choice but to accept her or else bring scandal upon' his name." He pressed his fingers against his chest, thinking of how society had just begun to accept him. As a relative of the Duke of Hammond, he would be welcomed at all the finest parties. He held back the urge to dance around the room again. "Naturally, I will claim no knowledge of my cousin's shocking activities. Since I've only begun to attend social functions, how could I have been expected to know what my headstrong cousin was up to?"
Meiser's gaze darkened. "It's not right, my lord."
"I'm not asking your opinion, Meiser. I'm instructing you as to your duties." Allowing his hand to fall to his side, the earl scowled at his man-of-business. "If you're unable to perform your duties, perhaps it is time I find myself another agent."
"I'm not unable to fulfill my responsibilities, my lord," Meiser began. "I would like to suggest an alternative, one far easier upon Lady Alyssa." Taking a deep breath, Meiser finished, "I offer myself as her husband."
The earl couldn't believe Meiser's offer. "Are you mad?" the earl shouted. "Do you honestly think for one minute that I would turn down the chance to marry my cousin to a future duke and give her to you, a commoner, instead?"
"While I concede my offer might at first appear to be undesirable, I believe if you consider Lady Alyssa's feelings, you will—"
"I don't need to consider anything. She is my ward and will do as she's told or suffer the consequences," the earl replied. "All I need to know is if you are capable of arranging for the proxy... or shall I hire an-other agent?"
12
For the past few days she'd hidden in her rooms, praying a miracle would happen. She should have known better. Miracles didn't happen for people like her. No, she had to fight for everything she got.
And, at the moment, she was fighting with herself, pushing back the urge to run as far and as fast as she could from this horrible place.
Yet here she stood, mere feet from the town house that had once been hers... in a previous life when her parents were still alive. Now her greedy cousin resided within the stone-covered walls, undoubtedly counting the resale value of all the furniture inside.
Swallowing hard, Alyssa mounted the steps and knocked once. As the door swung open, she was sur-prised to see the Porter family butler standing before her.
"Lady Alyssa," exclaimed Giles, obviously stunned to see her. "Oh, my lady, it has been far too long since you've graced this house."
His warm smile and tear-filled eyes touched Alyssa deeply. "How have you been, Giles?"
Sending a quick glance behind him, Giles shrugged once. "As well as could be expected. But far more importantly, how have you been, mistress?"
"I've been having a grand adventure," she said with a laugh, not wanting to burden him with the truth.
Leaning closer, Giles whispered, "So we've heard... Madam Zora."
Alyssa felt the blood drain from her face. "Does he know?"
"His lordship?" At her nod, Giles continued, "Yes."
Pressing a shaky hand to her stomachy Alyssa expelled a deep breath. "Well, then I suppose there is no reason to call upon him. I'd hoped he might be willing to help my sister and me, but if he knows what I've been doing, he'll want to see me even less than he did before."
"I can happily report that you are most incorrect, my lady."
Hope leapt inside of her, but she squashed it down. "Come now, Giles."
"You doubt my wordr He shook his head. "How could you have forgotten that the walls have ears? Nothing goes on in this house that I'm not aware of. Absolutely nothing." Before she had a chance to respond, Giles reached out and guided her into the foyer. "In tact, the earl has been looking for you, so he will be overjoyed to see you."
"But why—"
Pinching his thumb and forefinger, Giles twisted them on his lips.
Bittersweet memories of Giles keeping her child-hood secrets assailed her. "Now's not the time to lock your lips, Giles."
His eyes twinkled, but he remained silent. Ap-preaching the room that had once been her father's study, Giles tapped softly on the door, before pushing it open and stepping into the room. "My lord, your cousin, the Lady Alyssa, has come to call."
"Alyssa!"
Wincing at the high-pitched voice, Alyssa would have sneaked back out the door if not for Giles's firm grip upon her arm.
"Welcome! Welcome!" exclaimed the earl. "I've been looking all over for you."
With one tug on her arm, Giles propelled Alyssa farther into die room. He patted her arm in a show of support before he left the room, closing the door behind him.
"My dear Alyssa!" boomed the earl. Hurrying toward her with as much speed as his bulk would allow, he wrapped her in an awkward embrace, before pulling back to press a kiss upon each of her cheeks. "You are looking utterly enchanting."
Glancing down at her threadbare dress and worn shoes, Alyssa wondered if his eyesight was going. "Thank you," she murmured. "You are looking fine as well." Fine and very, very round, she decided, immediately feeling guilty for the uncharitable thought.
"You always were so charming," the earl gushed with a smile.
How could he possibly know, since he'd only seen her once... on the day he sent her and Calla packing. However, she wasn't about to say anything that might upset him. After all, she needed his help.
"I'm so thankful you came to see me, my dear. I heard you were in town and I've been ever so worried about you."
"You have?" she asked, unable to believe her ears.
"Of course." Pressing a hand to his chest, he looked wounded by her incredulous response. "You are, after all, my ward. When I'd discovered you'd left the cottage I'd secured for you, I was dreadfully worried until I found out you were safe and sound here in London."
"I came to town to seek employment after our stipend was cut," she said in a sickeningly sweet voice.
"Ah, yes, unfortunate business, that, but it couldn't be helped." Clearing his throat, her cousin waved his hand. "All's forgotten now, though. I'm just so glad you're back where you belong."
Alyssa couldn't help but stare at her cousin. Who was this kind, smiling man and what had he done with her gruff, selfish cousin? Thank you," she said again, at a loss for any other response.
"I'm especially glad because I have some exciting news for you."
Ah, here's the catch, Alyssa thought, bracing herself. The last time her cousin had "exciting news" she'd found herself relegated to a dreary cottage far away in Northumberland. "News? What sort of news?"
"The best sort." Clasping her shou
lders, her cousin beamed at her. "You're to be wed."
It was fortunate he had a good hold on her shoulders for Alyssa was quite certain she would have crumpled to the floor otherwise. "What?" she rasped when she could find her voice.
"I've arranged for you to marry a fine, upstanding, titled gentleman."
Alyssa stared at him. Did he honestly believe the fact that this nameless, faceless stranger was titled made a difference to her? Breaking free, she walked on unsteady legs to a nearby chair and collapsed into it.
"I knew you'd be pleased," the earl boasted, rocking back on his heels as he tugged down his vest. "The gentleman comes from an impressive family and will soon become the Duke of Hammond."
Her head shot up at the name. It couldn't be! "Who... what is the gentleman's name?"
"Ian Fortune, Marquess of Dorset."
Feeling faint, Alyssa closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.
"Overwhelming, is it?" her cousin asked with a chuckle. "I thought you'd be pleased."
Alyssa shook off her incapacitating shock and sat up straight in her chair. "I can't marry him."
"What the devil do you mean by that? Don't you realize who this man's grandfather is? The Duke of bloody Hammond, is who. Of course you're going to marry the blasted marquess!"
Ah, now here was the cousin she remembered. "I can't," she repeated.
His eyes narrowing, the earl leaned forward. "Listen to me, my lady I'm-better-than-everyone-else. The agreement has already been struck, the announcement is coming out in tomorrow's paper, and the duke is pleased with the match. All you need to do is smile and be grateful."
"No."
Enraged, the earl struck out with his hand, sending a nearby vase crashing to the floor. "Is your life as a Gypsy fortuneteller so marvelous that you can't bear to give it up?" he sneered.
Her life as a Gypsy fortuneteller was over. That thought sobered Alyssa as she remembered her purpose for coming to call on her cousin in the first place—to ask for his financial support. If she refused to accept marriage to Ian, then she and Calla would be penniless. If she were the only one affected by this decision, it would have been easy. She would have refused to wed him and left with her pride.
But at what cost came that pride?
If she married Ian, she could provide a Season for Calla. In an instant, her sister's life could become carefree and easy. Calla's biggest worry would be whether to wear her pink dress or the blue one.
And if she refused? If she walked out with her pride intact, then Calla would continue to live in a rundown, filth infested flat, worrying about where their next meal was coming from. When put that way, Alyssa knew she had no choice.
Her only regret was that in saving her sister, she condemned Ian to a life with someone he now despised.
"Does Mr. Fortune know about this?"
"Mr. Fortune? Who in the blazes is that?"
Struggling to recall the unfamiliar title, Alyssa finally said, "The Marquess of Donnelly."
"Of Dorset," her cousin replied tersely. "Since you're going to be his marchioness, you ungrateful girl, you'd best remember it."
"Does he know?" she repeated.
Rolling his eyes, the earl sighed in frustration. "I don't know and I don't care. The proxy will soon be signed, so whether he knows or not doesn't make one bit of difference." He glared at her. "Now are you going to act the lady when his grace comes here to meet you this afternoon or do I need to give you more incentive?"
"I have my own reasons for accepting this bargain. All of your pitiful threats mean nothing to me," she informed him coldly.
"As long as you accept, I don't care the reasons." Drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair, the earl shook his head. "Such an outspoken creature. I'll consider myself lucky to be well rid of you."
The feeling is mutual, Alyssa said to herself.
He scowled at her. "And one last thing. The duke, who is a very proper fellow with strong notions about keeping his family free from scandal, doesn't know that you once pranced around London pretending to be this Madam Zora person. So, for your own sake, I'd keep mum about it." His tight smile radiated cruelty. "He might be upset to find out... especially since he's already agreed to the proxy."
Dread tightened within her. Her future loomed before her as images of Ian glaring down at her burned themselves into her mind. She'd be married to a man who hated her and beholden to a man who would despise her when he found out about her past.
Only the image of Calla, smiling and finally happy, had the power to keep her panic at bay. All she had to do was keep that in mind and she'd be fine.
Perhaps if she thought that often enough, she might actually come to believe it.
* * *
"As you can see, we've used the finest materials to build this factory." Caleb Jennings's smile widened as he swept his arm toward the machines filling the large room. "Our venture here has proven to be most profitable for all of our investors."
"Naturally," Ian murmured dryly.
Stepping forward to stand next to Allerby, Peter gazed around the room. "I'm glad we took the time to come here, aren't you, Ian?"
Ian could practically see the silver pounds shimmering in Peter's eyes. "Indeed, as it gives us an opportunity to look at Electrolytic's ledgers." Turning toward Jennings, he asked, "That is, if you don't mind."
"Of course not," Jennings replied immediately.
The response surprised Ian, but he didn't hesitate to accept the man's offer. "Splendid."
"Unfortunately, the accounting ledgers aren't kept at this location." Jennings tugged down on his vest. "However, I'd be more than happy to arrange a meet' ing for you to review them at a later date."
Lord, the man was smooth. "Surely you don't expect us to make an investment without first looking into the company's profits?"
"I already told you they were quite high."
"As reassuring as that is, I'd prefer more proof than your word."
"Come now, Ian—"
Peter's protest was cut off when Jennings raised his hand. "No, your friend is simply being prudent," he said calmly. "In fact, I admire a man who is so cautious with his money. It's wise men like you, Mr. Fortune, that we want to be a part of our company." Gesturing forward, he directed him across the room. "If you'll accompany me, I'd be pleased to show you the collectors."
Ian followed Jennings toward a large wooden box. Peering inside, he saw the glitter of large chunks of gold.
"Will you look at that," whispered Peter, his eyes wide with excitement.
"Is it real?' Allerby asked as he leaned closer.
"See for yourself." Reaching into the box, Jennings retrieved the largest piece and handed it to Allerby.
Allerby's eyes glittered as he looked at Ian. "Have you ever seen the like?"
Taking the piece of gold, Ian turned it over in his hand. "As a matter of fact, I have. I recently arranged a trade between an American gold mine owner and a jewelry maker for large pieces of gold such as these."
Jennings stiffened. "Are you implying, sir, that I purchased this gold and placed it in these collectors?"
"I'm not implying anything," Ian retorted. "I'm stating it. You, Mr. Jennings, are a charlatan out to fleece my friends."
"How dare you," Jennings rasped fiercely.
"Ian," Peter began,_"you really shouldn't be making an accusation without proof."
"I'm holding the proof." Lifting the piece of gold, he held it out to Peter. "Do you honestly believe that there are nuggets like this floating around in the ocean? Allow me to offer proof positive." Ian dropped the golden nugget back into the water-filled collector box and the shining chunk headed straight to the bottom. "See? If it sinks, then why would it be floating in the ocean? It makes no sense."
"Because of the waves," Jennings supplied. "The rocking motion sweeps the pieces of gold up off the ocean bottom and into the surf."
Reaching into the box, Ian circled his hand in the water, creating a strong whirlpool effect, y
et the gold remained as it lay. "Admirable try, Jennings, but easily proven wrong." Ian flicked the water from his hand. "Would you like to try again?"
Jennings' expression darkened. "No, I would not. I've wasted far too much time with you as it is and I must ask you to leave now."
Noting Peter and Allerby's expressions of disillu-sionment, Ian nodded briskly. "Very well," he replied. "I do believe we've gotten all the answers we need."
* * *
The clock on the mantel ticked loudly as Alyssa sat across from the Duke of Hammond, waiting for him to speak. After his greeting, he'd said not a word. Instead, he'd settled into the chair opposite her and had simply begun to stare at her... and stare and stare and—
"Forgive me, your grace," Alyssa said, unable to stand the silence any longer, "but I'm curious as to your reasons behind this proxy."
Laughing nervously, the earl reached out and grabbed hold of her hand, applying pressure. "Alyssa always did have an odd sense of humor."
"I don't believe she was making an attempt at humor," Lord Hammond said coolly.
"You're quite correct." Tugging her hand out of the earl's grasp, Alyssa shifted out of his reach. "Ever since my cousin spoke to me, I haven't been able to understand why your grandson would wish to marry me."
The duke leaned back in his chair. "You haven't? I thought all the ton knew of Ian's desire to marry well."
That much was true, Alyssa knew, for she'd overheard it at quite a few parties. Still, she couldn't get the image of Ian's furious expression from her mind. "When did you speak to your grandson about—"
"I fail to see what difference the timing makes," the duke interrupted.
She couldn't very well explain without revealing herself as Zora, so she tried a different approach. "When he spoke to you about the proxy, are you certain he mentioned me?"
"Sweet Heaven, Alyssa, must you pester his grace with your incessant questions?" the earl asked in exasperation.
"I don't mean to be a pest, my lord, but doesn't this all strike you as a bit odd?"
"Odd?" The earl shook his head, "I know that marriage by proxy isn't commonly used anymore, but it is still considered legal and binding."
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