by Dawn Brower
“Doctor, I apologize. I don’t know your name,” she said, absentmindedly. “It doesn’t matter though. Do you know where I have this letter opener pressing?”
The doctor lost all color from his face, but he nodded slowly.
“Good, I see you understand. Now, I took an oath to help people, but let me make something very very clear. I would so hate for us to have a misunderstanding.” She took a step closer and whispered in his ear. “Not at any time, ever, will you put a bloodsucking leech on me. It will not heal whatever ails me. Besides the fact I am not sick, all it will do is make me anemic over time. You do not have the skills to heal an insect, let alone a human being. Do not ever step foot in this residence again.”
Alys took a step back. He touched his neck. He lifted his hand away and stared down at a drop of blood on his finger tips. He paled even further at the sight. Alys snorted. If he was afraid of a little blood, how dare he call himself a doctor.
His gaze locked with hers. Alys lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers at him in a little wave. He picked up his specimen and stuffed it inside his bag. Then the doctor scrambled in retreat out of the room. A small smile formed on her face. That was almost fun.
Too bad she still had a headache. It had been hours since she took the ibuprofen. Maybe it was time for another dose. Where had she left her purse?
Clapping filled the room. Alys spun around to see who made the noise. “That was brilliant. You must teach me how to do that.”
A pretty girl with ebony hair and brilliant blue eyes stood in front of her.
Alys raised an eyebrow. “Hold someone at knife point—well it doesn’t have quite the same sound as saying letter opener point…”
She laughed. “It was brave. I do so want to be courageous. I’m Rosanna. Who are you?”
Someone with a blinding headache and no time for inquisitive young ladies.
Alys spotted her purse near the armoire. She strode over, grabbed it, and dug through the contents. The pain pills had to be inside somewhere, and she didn’t feel like searching for them. Ah, there they are. She opened the bottle, dumped a couple pills into her hand, and then popped them in her mouth.
“What is that you have?”
Crap. She’d forgotten the young woman who’d come into her room. Stupid headaches made her do dumb things. “Nothing to concern yourself with.”
“Are you going to introduce yourself?”
Alys scowled. “Isn’t it frowned upon to introduce yourself to stranger?”
“You are in my home—in the duchess’s suite, no less. I’d say we’re about to be family.” She shrugged. “I’m sure James would have gotten around to introducing me to his intended at some point, but I’m rather impatient. Besides, he left, and I’m not going to hide in my room for days waiting for him to do it.”
The girl did have a valid point. Drat that James for not having the foresight to think those who lived in the manor might find her curious.
“Wait…did you say this was the duchess’s chambers?”
Rosanna nodded. “You didn’t know that?”
No, she most definitely had not. Why had he put her in these rooms?
“How do you know James?”
“My, my, he certainly has been remiss.” Her smile made her even lovelier. “I am Lady Rosanna Kendall, daughter of the third Duke of Weston, and sister to the fourth and now the fifth.”
Ah, James mentioned his brother died. So, he hadn’t been meant to inherit the dukedom. How heartbreaking. To only have the title because one’s family member passed on? He’d looked so sad when he departed the news.
“Did your other brother die recently?” Alys had to know.
“Edward died a couple months ago. It’s why I came home. I couldn’t abide the ton while I was in mourning—so dreary. I was supposed to find a husband, but it’s not easy weeding through the rakes and penniless lords. One wants my body and the other only my money…none wants the woman behind them.”
Rosanna sat down in a nearby chair. Her skirts billowed around her. Everything about her seemed perfect. Her gown, her well-groomed hair, and even her flawless complexion—many women probably envied her the position she was in. Alys did not. It had to be quite difficult to deal with the obligations of being the daughter of a duke.
“I understand. Why marry anyone at all?”
Rosanna laughed. “How quaint. I can’t remain single. That, my dear, is a fate worse than death—to be put up on a shelf and never have a family of my own. No, that won’t do. I need to find someone who will take me as I am, but sadly I won’t have a chance until the family is out of mourning.”
“You can’t get married while you’re in mourning?” Seemed like there should be a work around for them to get past that little rule... Alys wished she knew more about the aristocracy. She’d never really cared. What little she knew she’d garnered from romance novels. I wonder how much of it was fact and what was fiction?
“No, but it looks like James might plan on doing that and not giving a fig about what society thinks. He’s always made his own path in the world. It’s why he fought in the war. He never could sit still for long. It doesn’t surprise me he chose a woman equally as brave for his wife,” she paused, inclining her head to study Alys, and continued, “You never did tell me your name. Am I to call you Miss or Your Grace?”
Alys laughed. “I’m not married to your brother. So no to Your Gracing me now or ever.”
“So, Miss it is then.” Rosanna nodded.
“You can call me Aly. All my family does.” She smiled. “But if you want to know my name, it’s Alys Dewitt.”
Rosanna stood up and walked over to her. “It’s nice to meet you, Aly. Please, call me Rose.” She pulled Alys into a hug. “It’s going to be nice having a sister.
Alys pulled back. “You’re mistaken. James and I are not getting married.”
“Oh?” Rosanna frowned. “I swear I heard him tell Wilson he’s going to London for a special license. That could only mean he plans on getting married.”
James couldn’t possibly think she was going to marry him. He hadn’t even asked her. Why would he think she’d jump into a marriage without discussing it first? Alys didn’t plan on marrying anyone unless she was deeply in love with them. She barely knew him.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means, Aly dear, my brother saw you, wants you, and plans on staking a claim in the most permanent of ways.” Rosanna laughed. “It’s so like him. I’m sure you will know all once he returns.”
“If he thinks I’m marrying him because he orders it, he’s in for a rude awakening.” How dare he plan her life without consulting her? Heat filled her cheeks as anger raged through her.
“You say the strangest things.” Rosanna frowned. “Are these colloquialisms you’re uttering something normal for Americans?”
Alys smiled. She had no idea... “You know where I’m from?”
“Another thing I overheard them talking about. I’m also supposed to supply you with some of my gowns until a seamstress can be sent for. Apparently you lost your luggage in a carriage accident or something.”
Ah, James had thought of everything, except to include her in on his plans. They would discuss that oversight upon his return. “Yeah. I am not sure what happened to my trunks. I came ahead of them.” Way ahead of them—or was it behind them? Alys’s head hurt just thinking about it.
“James is having a seamstress return with him from London. I asked my maid to pull out a few dresses and bring them here. She is talented with a needle and can alter them to fit you.”
“Wonderful. I can’t wait to start.”
“She’ll be here soon. I will leave you in her care.” Rosanna stood to leave. “Before I go, can you give me a little hint of what those little brown objects were you swallowed?”
Alys groaned. Rosanna was not going to let it go. “Headache, or body ache, medicine.”
“Really?” Rosanna smiled. “When you have time yo
u will have to tell me more. That is quite fascinating.”
With those words, she strolled out of the room. Rosanna and James were going to drive her mad—both of them had their own agendas. Alys should be used to people who were not forthcoming with what they had planned. Her family had been doing it for years. She’d have to prepare herself for a siege when James got home. He’d find out that Alys was not someone to trifle with.
SEARCHING FOR MY ROGUE
CHAPTER SIX
It took a day for James to reach London. He hadn’t wanted to tire his horse, so he took his time and stopped at an inn overnight. His first stop was to procure a special license to marry Alys. The Archbishop didn’t allocate a special license often. James did everything he could to convince him to grant his request. The amount of funds he’d donated to the church to get the license should ensure his application was approved. No matter what, he would marry Alys. It was the only solution to her problem. All he could do was wait to see if the special license would be delivered to his townhouse.
He wanted to get back to Weston Manor as fast as possible, so hopefully it would go as planned. The townhouse owned by his estate rarely got used. There was a skeleton staff kept in residence for upkeep and the occasional trip. James stabled his horse and entered through the front door.
“Your Grace.” Timmons bowed. “Can I get anything for you?”
“No,” James said. “I trust my room is prepared.”
“Yes, as always. Should I inform Cook you will be home for the evening meal?”
“No. I’m going to my club. I’m expecting a messenger. If they come, put the documents on my desk in the library. If all goes well, I will leave in the morning. Have her plan for a light meal before I depart. If that changes, I will inform you upon my return.”
“Very well, Your Grace.” Timmons walked off.
James skipped up the stairs two at a time and went up to his chambers. His visit with the Archbishop had seemed to go well. If he granted him his special license, it would be delivered by the end of the day. He didn’t foresee any issues. The Archbishop liked to wield his power of thinking it over. The problem was Alys wasn’t of English blood and had no family around to speak for her. Luckily, she was of age and didn’t need parental consent. He’d just fudged the year of her birth a little bit with the request. If he said she was from the future they’d have hauled him off for Bedlam. After he was finished, he strolled down the stairs and headed out the door. He could use some time at his club—it had been a long time since he’d been able to relax.
As soon as James strolled into his club, he was greeted by one of the patrons. “Good evening, Your Grace.”
“Good evening,” James nodded. “Anything interesting going on in the betting books?”
“Always, Your Grace. Would you like to look?”
Did he? He wouldn’t have time to deal with any wagers. He shook his head. “No, not today. I think I will make my way to the back.”
He walked to the back room and found a group of gentlemen engrossed in a game of whist. Any other time he might have considered joining them. He was beginning to wonder why he’d bothered coming to his club. Everything felt wrong. His first instinct was to bolt, return home, to Alys. He wanted to learn more about her. She must have so many fascinating things to talk about. The knowledge she must hold… Alys was intelligent and beautiful. He looked forward to their future together.
“James, bloody hell, didn’t think you’d come to London to save your life.”
He turned around and met the gaze of his best friend, Dominic Rossington, the Marquess of Seabrook.
“Dom, good to see you.” James nodded. “Are you here to find a game?”
“No,” he shook his head. “I saw you walking back here and followed you. Do you want in on a game?”
“I don’t know what I want. I’m at cross purposes.”
Dominic nodded. “I see. Is something troubling you?”
How did he explain what was going on in his life? So much had happened in a short time. Dominic was one of his closest friends, yet even with his friend he had trouble opening up. The horrors of war had taken its toll. Never would he be the same again—he’d been inherently changed from the inside out.
“No, everything is fine.” James waved his hand.
The patrons of White’s bustled around them. James had always liked the atmosphere of the club. It was one of the few places he could come to and relax. Having a trusted friend with him made it that much better.
“So, what brings you to London?” Dominic asked.
“I came to obtain a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury.”
Dominic’s mouth fell open. He stared at James in shock for several seconds. “Pardon me. I couldn’t have heard you correctly. Did you say you went to obtain a special license?”
James frowned. “Why are you so shocked?”
Dominic’s bark of laughter echoed through the room. Several gentlemen stopped and stared at them both. “Oh, that’s rich. Do you want me to repeat your vehemence against the state of matrimony on previous conversations?”
Dom did have a point. His friend knew him rather well. James had stated on more than one occasion he wouldn’t get married. He’d had no reason to. Things changed though with Edward’s death. The ducal estate fell to his care. It was now up to him to carry on the ancestral line. So it shouldn’t really be a surprise he would marry. Instead, it had become a matter of when. If he hadn’t met Alys, he’d probably have put it off as long as possible. His plans had changed when she crashed into his life. It surprised him how much he accepted her place at his side. He actually looked forward to spending the rest of his life with her.
James rolled his eyes and grabbed Dominic’s arm. “Come, let’s get a drink, and we can discuss it further.”
“You want to get out of earshot of London’s most notorious gamblers. Before you know it, your name will be in the betting books. The wagers will all be on who your intended is and why you feel the need to rush into marriage.”
Dom was correct, as usual. They would all be out in droves trying to figure out what was going on in his life. The new Duke of Weston was speculated upon daily in the gossip sheets. They all wanted to know when, or if, he’d take a wife. Edward had been taking steps to marry, but never did before he died. Now, it was up to James, he had a duty he never expected to have.
Dominic followed him out of the card room. They settled into a private chamber and ordered drinks. James knew Dom was waiting for more information, but he didn’t know how to explain Alys to his friend. She defied words—she just was.
“So are you going to tell me?” Dominic asked.
“What do you want to know?” Time to get it out. Dominic wouldn’t let it go easily.
“Who is the lady who’s stolen your heart?”
James snorted. “That’s a little much don’t you think?”
“No,” Dominic said. He leaned on the table and stared James in the eyes. “If you’re obtaining a special license it’s one of two things: you compromised her, or you’ve fallen madly in love. Which is it?”
James tilted his head. He hadn’t thought about it in quite those terms. In a sense, he had compromised Alys. They had been alone on several occasions, but that wasn’t why he was marrying her. James wasn’t in love, didn’t believe in it, but he did believe in loyalty and protecting the innocent. He’d do right by Alys. Even if he could not give her his heart.
“I don’t love her.”
“I see. She must be a very lovely chit.” Dom smirked. “Does she give out her wares easily? If you want, I can take her off your hands and find her a new protector.”
James’s fist slammed into Dom’s face before he had time to think. “You will not talk about her in those terms. Ever.”
“Damned, James.” Dom held his nose as blood spurted out. He grabbed a handkerchief out of his pocket and held it against his broken nose. “You could have used your words. I’d have gotten the point.”
“This was more effective.”
Dominic glared at him. “Since when? You never used to act first and think later.”
James sighed. Dark images floated through his mind. The screams of agony, the injured and dying, all swam behind his eyes. “Sometimes you don’t have time to stop and think. Reflex or instinct is what saved me.”
Dominic was quiet as he stared at James. After a few moments he spoke. “I heard it was bad. I didn’t realize how much. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you made it out—even if you are a lot harder than I remember.”
“Yes, I don’t think I will ever forget what I’ve seen.”
Dominic nodded. “Nor should you. It’s part of who you are now.”
James closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I punched you, but I don’t appreciate you speaking about Alys like some common doxy.”
“I didn’t really believe you planned on marrying her. In my mind, I kept thinking you were having fun at my expense. You said so many times how you never planned on marrying… and you said you didn’t love the girl.” Dominic’s eyes were filled with remorse. “I’d like to make it up to you. When do you plan on having the wedding?”
“First, I need to get the license. I’m hoping when I return to the townhouse it will be waiting there for me. The Archbishop said he’d consider my request. He didn’t believe the urgency warranted a special license.” James frowned. “I doubled the fee so he’d reconsider and send it by later on in the day. He agreed he might have been hasty in his assessment and would let me know before the night was out.”
Dominic whistled. “Doubling it didn’t get it for you immediately? What was his real objection?”
“Alys is American.”
“I see.” his friend frowned. “How did you get attached to one of those bloody upstarts?”
“Dom,” James warned.
The marquess held up his hands. “I surrender, please no more, Your Grace. My face is too pretty for you to mark it up with those bricks you call fists.”