Fortune's Bride

by VICTORIA MALVEY

  "Alyssa!" exclaimed Calla as she jumped off the bed they'd shared for the past few months. "Where have you been?"

  "I'm sorry to be so late. I know you must have been worried."

  "I was," Calla said in a rush. "I didn't know why you were so long."

  "Something utterly shocking happened when I called upon our cousin." She smiled at her sister, find' ing pleasure in the thought of her in satins and lace. "I've some news."

  "As do I." Bending down, Calla retrieved a stack of letters from the bed. "All these letters arrived in this morning's post.

  "Really?" Taking them out of her sister's hand, she began to peruse the missives, each one of them an invitation for Madam Zora to attend one function after another. "But I'm certain everyone realizes I am a fraud now that the curse didn't come true."

  That's just it, Alyssa, the curse did come true!" A happy smile brightened Calla's face as she danced around the shabby room, "According to a letter from Lady Covington, Mr. Fortune's home was positively beset with a horde of frogs. She saw it for herself when she called on him."

  All these surprises couldn't be good for a person, Alyssa thought, as she sank into a chair. "But how?"

  "I don't know and I don't care," Calla replied with a laugh, "All that matters is we're saved. You can con-tinue to be Madam Zora and I shall continue to sew your costumes."

  "We are saved, Calla, but not by this news." Clasp' ing her sister's hand, she urged Calla to sit as well. "The Duke of Hammond has arranged for us to go live with his sister in her wonderful town house."

  "Why? Who is the Duke of Hammond?"

  Alyssa decided to sugar-coat her description of the crotchety duke. "He is a well-mannered, elderly gentleman who shall provide us with new wardrobes and—"

  A look of horror swept over Calla's face. "Are you marrying an old duke?"

  "No, his grandson." Taking a deep breath, she committed herself firmly to this arrangement. "You know him as Ian Fortune."

  Calla's mouth formed an "o" as she gasped in delight "You're going to marry Ian?" A sigh escaped her. "How romantic. I knew he had feelings for you... despite that tiff you had in the hallway."

  "It was more than a tiff," Alyssa replied, squelching a wave of guilt over her part in deceiving Ian. "I don't want you to have the wrong idea. Ian and I are to be married by proxy. His grandfather made the offer for Ian."

  "How utterly romantic," Calla said in a breathy voice. "I always knew he was your true love."

  Smiling over her sister's sentiment, Alyssa patted Calla's hand "You are wise beyond your years," she remarked with a laugh.

  "True, so true," Calla said, dramatically pressing a hand against her heart,

  Alyssa stood and began to pack some of their parents' treasures. "Now why don't you help me with thisr

  "All right," Calla said, but she remained seated. "Alyssa?"

  Hearing the thoughtful note in her sister's voice, Alyssa paused at her task. "Yes, Calla?"

  "I was just curious, but..." With her eyes glowing in excitement, Calla had never looked more like a fourteen-year-old girl. "Just how many dresses can I have?"

  Laughing gaily, Alyssa knew she'd made the right decision.

  14

  "Ever since we returned from Bath, you refuse to leave this house," Peter said accusingly, propping his boots on Ian's desk. "You've become a recluse this past week!"

  "What I've become is extremely busy." Glancing up from his piles of ledgers, he looked pointedly at Peter's boots. "Do you mind?"

  "Of course not," Peter replied, keeping his feet right where they were.

  Reaching out, Ian shoved Peter's boots off the desk.

  "See? There's a perfect example. You're growing more staid every day."

  "Pardon me for not wishing my account books to be stained with the dirt from your boots." Tossing down his pen, Ian leaned back in his chair and gave his friend his full attention. "All right, then, Peter, what is it you'd like from me?"

  "Since your esteemed grandpapa is throwing a ball in honor of your marriage, I thought it would be most amusing to attend with you."

  The mention of the duke made Ian's stomach knot. "I already told you I don't want to hear mention of the proxy here in my home."

  "Ah, but I didn't mention it, I only remarked upon the ball... which naturally led me to recall the rea-son for the entire affair," Peter remarked blandly.

  "Convenient," drawled Ian. "I fear I shall have to disappoint you, as I have no plans to attend."

  Peter's mouth dropped open. "You can't be serious."

  "Perfectly."

  "But... but..." stammered the normally unflap' pable Peter. "But your future wife is to make her social debut."

  "Bully for her."

  "This is your bride-to-be!" Waving a hand, Peter glanced at Ian's desk. "While it's perfectly obvious that she doesn't reside here with you, everyone—including myself—believes it's only a matter of time before you actually wed her." He shook his head. "Though, I must tell you, Ian, by all rights I should still be quite peeved at you for keeping her identity a secret."

  Ian still couldn't get past the notion that his grandfather was hosting a ball in Alyssa's honor. "Doesn't he realize that everyone will recognize her?" Ian rasped, disturbed at the thought of Alyssa being publicly mocked.

  Grinning, Peter swung his leg over the arm of his chair. "I wouldn't concern myself overly much with that worry. The duke has already addressed the situation."

  "How?"

  "I take it you haven't seen the invitation."

  Suspicions arose within Ian as he pushed back on his chair and retrieved the mound of unanswered invitations piled on his desk behind him. He flipped through the envelopes until he found the one from the duke.

  Tearing the invitation open, Ian scanned the note, unable to believe his eyes. Immediately, he imagined the humiliation such an invitation would cause Alyssa. He read it again, hoping the invitation would improve with the second reading.

  His Grace, Regis Fortune, the Duke of Hammond, invites you to attend a formal bail in honor of Lady Alyssa Porter, formerly known as Madam Zora, the future bride of his grandson, the Marquess of Dorset.

  "Dear God, has the old man gone insane?" rasped Ian. "How could he do this to her?"

  True, Ian was still angry with Alyssa, but his raw fury had calmed over the past month. And while he might want nothing further to do with her, that didn't mean his grandfather had the right to completely hu-miliate her.

  "I thought the duke's phrasing a bit rough, but other than that, it is a fine invitation," Peter said from behind him.

  Ian barely heard his friend. When he'd tossed the suggestion to send out an announcement declaring Lady Alyssa Porter to be none other than Madam Zora, he'd never imagined his grandfather would actually do it. "What could he be thinking?"

  "I don't know," Peter admitted, "but I can tell you everyone who is anyone will be there."

  "That's precisely what I'm afraid of," Ian said grimly, determined to clean up this mess he'd inadvertently created.

  * * *

  "Calla, you need to stand still!"

  Hearing the exasperation in Lady Eleanor's voice, Alyssa smiled as she stepped into Calla's room. "I don't believe Calla knows how to stand in one spot for longer than ten seconds."

  "Then she'll just have to learn," pronounced Lady Eleanor as she gave Calla a stern look. "Or it will mean no treat after supper."

  Alyssa decided to give Calla more incentive to stand still. "Which would be quite a shame as I overheard Cook mention she's making a fruit tart for dessert."

  Immediately, Calla snapped her shoulders back and stood as still as a statue.

  Chuckling, Lady Eleanor winked at Alyssa. "It never ceases to amaze me how well Calla responds if given the right incentive."

  "I can still hear even when I stand still," grumbled Calla.

  Alyssa laughed along with Lady Eleanor.

  "Of course you can, darling," murmured Lady Eleanor, patting her gray hai
r, "which is why I shall cease nattering on about you and focus on fitting you for this gown." Moving over to the modiste, Lady Eleanor began to discuss different design options.

  Wandering closer, Alyssa reached out to finger the material draped around Calla. "This shall make a lovely gown."

  "Alyssa, I never thought I'd say this.. ." Pausing, Calla glanced around to ensure Lady Eleanor wasn't nearby. "... but I think I have enough gowns now. Must I stand here for yet another fitting?"

  "Yes," Alyssa replied without a moment's hesitation. "Lady Eleanor has been so kind to us, taking us into her home and making us feel welcome, so if she enjoys ordering new gowns for us, we shall indulge her."

  A huge sigh escaped Calla. "1 was afraid you'd say that."

  "Of course... and you agree with me, even if you won't admit it. Neither one of us wants to do something that would upset Lady Eleanor."

  Calla nodded glumly.

  "Besides, it's only fair that you have your turn with Madam Claire," Alyssa said with a smile. "I was poked and prodded for five days."

  Calla scrunched her nose at Alyssa.

  "Alyssa, my sweet, why don't you go take a rest?" Having finished conferring with the modiste, Lady Eleanor moved toward them, her lined face curved into a smile. "You want to look fresh for this evening's festivities."

  The ball. Alyssa's stomach tightened. "Indeed I do," she murmured, before bidding farewell to Lady Eleanor and Calta. Shutting the drawing room door behind her, Alyssa hurried up to her bedchamber.

  Once in the privacy of her room, Alyssa sank down upon the bed as her nerves danced in an odd mixture of excitement and dread. Tonight she would face the ton as Lady Alyssa Porter, affianced to Lord Ian For tune, Marquess of Dorset.

  Worse yet, she would meet Ian for the first time since he'd stormed away from her. Part of her feared this was all some horrible mistake and the lovely dream she'd lived in this past week would disappear.

  She was still uncertain as to why Ian would wish to marry her, so she'd feel much better after she spoke with Ian this evening. Then, after she'd reassured herself, she could revel in Calla's happiness.

  * * *

  Ignoring his qualms, Ian strode boldly into White's, almost daring the servants flanking the door to stop him.

  "My lord," murmured the doorman, bowing his head in greeting.

  Surprise flickered through Ian, but he wasn't about to question his luck. The crinkling of newspapers and quiet murmur of conversation mingled with the scent of fine cigars and imported brandy, creating an atmosphere of gentlemanly refinement.

  A foreign world to Ian.

  Dismissing his moment's hesitation, Ian marched boldly into the room, glancing around for the duke. Spying his grandfather in the corner, enjoying a private moment with a brandy and the paper, Ian headed directly for him. "What is the meaning of this invitation?"

  Eyeing the card in Ian's hand, the duke slowly folded his newspaper, laying it across his lap, before looking up at Ian. "Good afternoon to you too."

  "I am for too concerned about your actions to bother with polite exchanges," Ian replied, refusing to feel like an ill-mannered youth.

  "The least, you could do is take a seat instead of towering over me. Might I remind you, this is a gentle-man's club."

  Waving off the servant who came to see to his needs, Ian took the leather high-backed chair next to the duke.

  "There." The duke folded his hands on his lap. "That's much better. At least this way I won't get a crick in my neck when I look at you."

  Ian went straight to the heart of the matter. "Why did you deliberately expose Alyssa in your invitation?"

  "Expose her?" The duke lifted his brows. "How?"

  "By tacking on that line about her former identity," Ian explained. "It will be bad enough when she has to enter that room and people realize who she is..."

  "Yes, Ian, it will be bad." Leaning forward, the duke lowered his voice even further. "Which is precisely why I chose to add it to my announcement. That way, the gossips will have a chance to talk about her before the ball, hopefully lessening their nastiness in Alyssa's presence."

  Stunned, Ian sat back in his chair.

  "Oh, she'll still have to brazen it out, but that gel's got grit. She'll be fine."

  Shaking his head, Ian sought answers to the multitude of questions swirling around in his mind. "Why are you doing this? I thought that above all you wished to avoid scandal. You wouldn't even speak to my fa ther after he married my mother. Yet here you are introducing Alyssa, Madam Zora, to the ton." He shook his head again. "While I applaud your decision, I just don't understand it."

  "I handled your father's situation completely wrong, I know that now, but I've learned from my mis-take. I won't make the same error twice."

  His grandfather's admission left him speechless.

  "If I had the chance to go back and do it all over again, I would. At least that way I'd have been able to mold you into a proper duke." Shrugging lightly, the duke met his gaze. "Now the only thing left to do is to ensure you marry well and strengthen your tainted blood with that of a noblewoman. Then I can see to it that any of your offspring receive the training befitting a duke of the realm."

  The duke's words squashed the spark of hope inside of Ian. "Foolish me for not understanding your intentions."

  "Indeed. I believe I have always made my plans perfectly clear," his grandfather replied briskly.

  "Ah, yes, but there is one small matter you forgot in all of your scheming." Leaning forward, Ian stared into his grandfather's face. "You need my cooperation in order to accomplish your goals."

  A corner of the duke's mouth tilted upward. "I don't believe that will be difficult, as everyone in society knows of your desire to wed a titled lady. AH I did was aid you in your search."

  "Listen to me well, old man," Ian rasped. "I will not be your puppet. You can't manipulate me into doing your bidding." He rose to his feet and stared down at his grandfather. "So know this, when you pass on, the title falls to me... and I shall enjoy placing a few more stains upon it."

  Smiling as the duke blanched, Ian strode from the room.

  15

  Music swelled from inside the duke's house as Alyssa, Calla, and Lady Eleanor mounted the front steps. Taking a deep breath, Alyssa crossed the threshold.

  "Lady Alyssa, Lady Calla, Eleanor," greeted Lord Hammond as he approached them. "Welcome to my home."

  "Thank you, your grace," Alyssa murmured. "It is most kind of you to hold this ball."

  "Nonsense," he scoffed with a shake of his head. "It's the only logical step in securing you a place in society."

  How foolish of her to have thought the duke had any altruistic reasons behind his actions. "Of course," Alyssa murmured softly.

  "Then let's introduce you." Reaching for her hand, he tucked it onto his forearm before she could utter a word. "Eleanor, you follow with Calla," he ordered.

  "Wait, I—"

  "You what? There is no comfortable way out of this mess for anyone, so we must simply brazen it out." The duke stared down at her. "Now, lift your chin and re-member you are the daughter of an earl."

  Feeling flush from anger, Alyssa returned Lord Hammond's glare. "I was going to ask if Ian had arrived yet."

  The duke hesitated for a moment. "No," he finally said.

  "Oh," Alyssa murmured, wishing Ian had already arrived. It would be far easier to face the ton with him at her side, she realized suddenly. "I was just wondering."

  "Fine," the duke snapped, "now get some backbone and stop looking like you're ready for someone to take a crop to you."

  Annoyance flooded her. "There is no reason to—"

  "That's it. That's the way I want you to look." The duke nodded once. "Much better."

  "I'm happy to have pleased you, your grace," she returned dryly as she kept in step next to Lord Hammond.

  A hush fell over the crowd when the duke pulled them to a stop on the top stair. "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for gracing my
home," the duke began. "As you all know, this is a very special night for the Fortune family." Stepping back, he straightened out his arm and nudged Alyssa in front of him. "It is with great pleasure that I introduce the future Marchioness of Dorset, Lady Alyssa Porter."

  A dull roar of hushed whispers flew across the room. It was all Alyssa could do to remain standing calmly while everyone spoke about her.

  Releasing his hold upon Alyssa, the duke lifted both of his hands, the movement immediately causing the crowd to quiet. "You all know her as Madam Zora, for when she first came to town, she decided to explore her heritage." He dropped his arms to his side. "Lady Alyssa is of Gypsy descent on her mother's side and for-tunetelling is in her blood. Luckily for all of us, she decided to share her gift." The duke paused to look around the room, his gaze touching upon his guests. "I'm quite certain you will all join me in welcoming her to society now that she has decided to accept her rightful place."

  For a moment, the room remained silent, causing Alyssa to shift on her feet. Her breath caught in her throat when Lady Covington stepped forward.

  "I, for one, bid you welcome, Lady Alyssa," she said in grand tones, knowing full well that as a premier hostess of the ton, her pronouncement would sway many others.

  Smiling in thanks, Alyssa curtsied to the grand dame. "My thanks, Lady Covington."

  And as everyone else pressed forward to welcome her, Alyssa glanced over at die duke, noticing his satisfied smile. She lost sight of him as people swarmed around her.

  "Was your mother raised by the Gypsies?"

  "Did she teach you the art of fortunetellingf

  "Will you still tell our fortunesr

  Feeling a bit like a unique specimen in the zoo, Alyssa struggled to answer all of their questions. It was a challenge as she mingled the truth with fabrications, weaving a complex tale that she prayed she'd remem-her tomorrow.

  * * *

  Drawing on his cigar, Ian lounged upon a garden bench, watching the couples waltz past the brightly lit windows. He hadn't intended to come to his grandfather's house, but he found that he couldn't stay away. Not that he hadn't tried. Even his work, a pastime he usually lost himself in, couldn't take his mind away from this party, from Alyssa's introduction to society as his future wife.