by Donna Hatch
Alicia found Elizabeth and Mrs. Hancock speaking with Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick. Their stunning nephew, Lord Amesbury, stood in the circle with them. The light rippled across his rich, dark hair every time he turned his head. The chiseled planes of his face would be hard if he ever frowned, she decided, but his half-smile softened them. He seemed to view the evening’s festivities as an amusing inconvenience, but attempted to be polite, if cool.
Mrs. Hancock beamed as Alicia reached her side, put an arm around Alicia, and brought her into their circle. “Alicia dear, allow me to introduce Lord Amesbury. My lord, Miss Alicia Palmer.”
Even more striking up close, Lord Amesbury turned to her. His piercing blue eyes threatened the strength in her knees. Though taller than most ladies, Alicia had to look up to meet his gaze. All the men her uncle insisted she consider for a husband had taken careful note of her figure, but this gentleman acted as if he had nothing better to do than memorize her face and look into her eyes.
Lord Amesbury inclined his head. “Miss Palmer.” His resonant, bass voice brushed over her senses.
As Alicia continued to meet his frank gaze, a sensation she did not quite understand stirred within her until breathing became a conscious effort. Mrs. Hancock discreetly coughed, and Alicia realized she’d been locked in eye contact with the viscount much longer than appropriate.
Still unable to pull her gaze away, Alicia sank into a curtsey. “My lord.”
No longer merely polite, his smile broadened, warmed, transforming an already handsome face into a perfectly stunning visage. Sensuality radiated off him, not in a manner that left her feeling threatened, but in a way that left her breathless for more—more of what, she did not know. But she wanted to find out.
“Miss Palmer,” Lord Amesbury said, “may I have the next dance?”
Alicia blinked. She looked back at Elizabeth, who smiled encouragingly. Mrs. Hancock also smiled and nodded, but a touch of disappointment tainted her approval, reminding Alicia the dear lady had hoped her own daughter would attract the attention of the very eligible Lord Amesbury. That he’d singled out Alicia seemed a dream.
She squelched all hope that she might hold his interest. Surely only politeness motivated him to dance with the plainest girl first. He’d soon turn his attention to the beautiful ladies.
Finding her voice, Alicia replied, “I would be delighted to dance with you, my lord.”
As the final notes of the current set ended and the next began, Lord Amesbury offered his arm. She took it, an unfamiliar quiver beginning in her limbs. The art of dancing, she found as the set began, had not abandoned her as completely as her wits. The handsome viscount danced with athletic grace, his attention focused upon her. The warmth of his hand seeped through their kidskin gloves. He held her gently, firmly.
A playful glint touched his sapphire eyes as he spoke. “I must warn you. Now that we’ve danced, my aunt will take it upon herself to ask you your opinion of me. She will most certainly interrogate me regarding you.”
She met that probing stare and her mouth curved. “Oh? Has your aunt become your self-proclaimed matchmaker?”
A wry smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Of course. I’m thirty and not yet married. She feels it her duty to ensure I produce an heir before I’m too old. Despite my efforts to delay that obligation, she persists.”
Alicia nodded, her smile deepening at his indelicate statement. “That is a dilemma.”
“Since you and I have only just met, it will be difficult to offer a fair assessment of your character. And if I say anything positive about you, she’ll plan the wedding.” His smile brightened, lighting up his stunning face.
Alicia missed her step. Even while dancing with the very handsome Duke of Suttenberg two Seasons ago, such a keen attraction for a man had never overcome her as it did tonight. Yet she was nearly twenty, for heaven’s sake, not a missish schoolgirl!
“Your aunt is a strong woman and a kind lady, my lord. I am sure you can reason with her.”
“I suppose she possesses a good heart deep, deep down inside, but be truthful; she’s sharp-tongued and outspoken.”
She laughed and then clapped her hand over her mouth. “My lord! She might hear you.”
He chuckled. “Fear not. We needle each other as frequently as possible. I say worse things to her face. I enjoy her counter-attacks.”
His description reminded her of the playful banter she shared with her cousin Robert. “I don’t recall her ever mentioning you, my lord.”
His smile turned self-deprecating. “I’m one of those relations no one mentions.”
She laughed softly. “You’re teasing me.”
“No, but I dare not shock you with all of my misadventures.”
Alicia thought back. “She has mentioned a nephew named Christian.”
“My youngest brother. Everyone loves him. He’s perfect.” A touch of rancor colored his voice.
As the dance pattern repeated, Alicia spotted Elizabeth dancing with a young gentleman who smiled with an adoring gaze. “Will you honor my friend Miss Hancock with a dance this evening, Lord Amesbury?”
He raised an eyebrow and his lips pulled in a sardonic smile. “On the rare occasion that I invite a lady to dance, she doesn’t normally ask me to seek out another.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. I only meant that there are a number of ladies in attendance and a shortage of gentlemen. I hope you will seek out others, including my friend, and especially those who do not have many partners.”
Alicia always pitied the wallflowers, herself having been one more frequently than she cared to admit. And the brief flash of envy in Mrs. Hancock’s eyes when Lord Amesbury asked her instead of Elizabeth to dance tugged at her conscience.
He glanced briefly at Elizabeth before returning his focus to Alicia. “Miss Hancock does not appear to be at a loss at the moment.”
His eyes fixed upon Alicia so intently that she conjured images of him becoming her fairy-tale Prince Charming, battling her unwanted suitors, rescuing her family, and carrying her off to his castle. Under his unusually direct gaze, she had the impression he knew her hopes and fears.
Heat crawled up her neck to her face. “Yes, Elizabeth is so lovely, she’s seldom without admirers.” A wistful tone crept into her voice.
His mouth twitched in amusement. She wondered if he found her truly diverting or if he merely thought her silly. But there did not appear to be anything mocking in his eyes.
“And you want me to have a look at your friend since I’m so eligible?”
“Ah...” Those vivid eyes made thinking difficult.
“Do you find me more suitable for her than for you, Miss Palmer?”
Sickened that the handsome and charming viscount would see her for what she was, Alicia resigned herself to the truth and met his gaze fully. “She is more suitable for a man of your station than I, my lord.”
His dark brows lifted. “Why is that?”
She fortified her courage. “She’s lovely and has a substantial dowry. I have little to offer a husband.”
There. She had confessed. Now her dream of this handsome gentleman rescuing her from all the undesirable men she must consider would come to an end.
A playful smile hovered at the corners of his mouth. “You are a fortune hunter?”
How quickly he cut to the truth! She could almost hear the crashing noises her sweet fantasy made as it fell. Biting her lip, she fought the moisture threatening her eyes. “I am.”
Chapter 2
Lord Amesbury’s expression became guarded. “And why would you reveal that to a man with a fortune instead of merely pursuing him to attain your goal?”
Alicia looked away. “Because I don’t want any misunderstanding. And I would never stand in the way of Elizabeth’s happiness.”
“If I told you I were a reprobate, would you still wish me to consider your friend?”
She searched his face for his meaning. Was he needling her again? “No. If you we
re anything less than a perfect gentleman, I certainly would not wish you anywhere near her.”
He chuckled. “I cannot claim to be a perfect gentleman. My brother Christian does that enough for us both. But I promise not only to dance with your friend, but to conduct myself as a true gentleman at all times in her presence.”
Alicia eyed him sharply, but his carefully honed façade revealed nothing about him that he did not wish to show. “Are you laughing at me, my lord?”
“No, Miss Palmer.” His smile grew gentle.
Gentleness? How many men possessed such a trait? She fought back tears of disappointment. She had found the man of her dreams, but he was as unattainable as a sunrise.
The dance set ended far too soon. Only seconds after the viscount escorted her back to her chaperone, Mrs. Hancock leaned toward Elizabeth, “Don’t worry, dearest. If you fail to secure Lord Amesbury’s attention, perhaps we can garner an introduction to one of his brothers. It’s said that the younger three are equally handsome. You could do worse than the younger son of one of the wealthiest and most respected earls in England.”
Alicia’s stomach twisted in embarrassment. She glanced at Lord Amesbury, but he showed no sign that he had overheard the conversation. As soon as possible, she would draw Elizabeth and Mrs. Hancock aside and explain that she had no designs on Lord Amesbury. Or at least, no right to have any such designs. Not only was he too far above her, she did not want to damage her friendship with Elizabeth.
Among the crowd, a thin man with silver hair and a widow’s peak caught her gaze. The sight drove away all thoughts of Elizabeth. Alicia’s stomach dropped to her feet.
“Oh, no. Please excuse me, my lord.”
“What is it?”
“I must not let him see me.”
She fled through the throng toward the opened doors to the gardens. Outside, moonlight and Chinese lanterns illuminated the foliage. Couples strolled along the paths, their feet crunching on the gravel. She took a deep breath, the scent of roses and jasmine filling her senses, calming her fear. The stillness of the garden promised a welcome reprieve from the noise and crush in the ballroom.
Alicia crossed the balcony and descended the garden stairs to a wrought iron bench shadowed by an arbor. A nearby fountain trickled and splashed soothingly. A cool breeze stirred the tendrils around her face and neck. She took a calming breath. When she turned to glance back toward the doors, a broad, masculine chest blocked her view.
“Oh!” Alarmed, she took a step back.
The dark form neared and the Chinese lantern overhead illuminated Lord Amesbury’s face. “My apologies, Miss Palmer. I did not mean to startle you. From whom are you running?”
“Mr. Braxton.”
Lord Amesbury glanced back. “No one is coming out, so you must have lost this Mr. Braxton. Why do you hide from him?”
She clasped her hands to still them. “My uncle would have me consider him as a suitor.”
“One you do not wish to consider? Not wealthy enough?” A condemning tone entered his voice.
He must think her shallow and grasping. She was. That her uncle had forced her to such measures did not change who she had become. “He’s very wealthy. Therein lies my difficulty.”
Lord Amesbury fixed a searching gaze upon her face.
She clasped her trembling hands together. “No one is coming outside?”
He looked toward the doors again. “Only a couple.”
She released her nervous tension in a long exhale, still knowing her time in the garden only offered a brief escape from the men she wished to avoid. When had she become such a coward?
“I would be happy to act as your lookout, Miss Palmer, but I think you owe me an explanation.”
She fingered the locket around her neck. “He frightens me. He looks at me as if…as if he has impure thoughts about me.”
“You must be afraid of every man alive,” he replied dryly.
“Don’t tease me, my lord. No honorable men have those thoughts. And no honorable men are interested in me. I’m merely a fortune hunter, remember?”
His expression thoughtful, he took a step closer. “I’m sorry to disillusion you, but even a saint would have impure thoughts about a beautiful woman.”
With the light softly illuminating his handsome face, she again became acutely aware of him on an elemental level. The breadth of his chest and the bulk of his arms stirred images of physical strength and virility. His gaze intensified as he studied her. At that moment, she would have traded anything to have a man such as him consider her beautiful.
“Then, it’s fortunate for me that I am not a beautiful woman,” she whispered breathlessly.
One of his brows lifted and he angled his head as he continued his penetrating gaze. She should step back. For that matter, she should not be out here with him alone. But the thought of risking a meeting with Mr. Braxton frightened her into remaining still. Or perhaps her motives centered around her present companion.
A lady and gentleman, their heads close together, laughed softly as they walked by without giving either Alicia or Lord Amesbury a glance.
That predatory image she’d first seen in him when he entered the ballroom returned. He seemed poised to pounce. Her heartbeat quickened, but not in fear. His hand reached toward her. She drew in a quick breath, alarmed at how alive she became in his presence, and how badly she wanted to step closer to him, instead of safely, properly away. She stepped back—from him, from temptation.
His mouth twitched in amusement, and he seemed to consider. He withdrew his hand and merely indicated the locket she worried with her fingers.
“Forgive me for alarming you. Your locket caught my eye. Someone special, I presume?”
She nodded.
“May I?”
She nodded again, releasing the locket, and tried to breathe as his dark head neared. She was a respectable young lady; she should not allow him to step so close. But somehow, she lacked the strength to resist his very forward, intimate action. He reached toward her as he had a moment ago. His fingers lightly touched her skin as he picked up the locket. She shivered at the touch, her good sense scattering. He examined the tiny painting of Maman inside.
“My mother,” she explained hoarsely.
“She’s lovely. I see the resemblance.” He released the locket and it fell back into place.
A flash of memory assaulted her. She blinked, astonished at the intensity of emotion that swept over her. Time hadn’t healed those wounds yet.
His hushed voice was almost a whisper. “Is she departed?”
“There was a… carriage accident…” Her voice cracked. Alicia put a hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes closed. She should have died with them. An image burst into her mind of an overturned carriage, the thrashing legs of horses, and the bodies…
“Miss Palmer?” His voice sounded so concerned that it nearly undid her again.
His gloved hand touched her arm, leaving a spot of warmth. Alicia firmly clamped down on her emotions and opened her eyes. Lord Amesbury stood only a heartbeat away, gentleness in his face.
“I recently lost my mother, too. Her loss is killing my father.” Vulnerability and haunting sorrow shadowed his eyes.
She ached to step nearer and put her arms around him, comfort him, tell him she understood. Her grief faded and a new, more foreign, more adult desire slipped into its place.
Then he looked away and all expression closed over. “Perhaps his recent trip to Bath will restore him.”
“I hope it does.” She swallowed. “I should return, my lord. Mrs. Hancock will wonder where I have gone. Thank you for your assistance.”
He fixed her with an unreadable stare. “Why do I have the feeling I’m being dismissed?”
Uncertain what to make of his comment, she searched his face for clues but only got lost in its angles and curves. “I only meant that there are probably others with whom you wish to dance.”
“Because you are not eligible for a man like m
e?”
If only she were. If only he wanted her. She glanced in the direction of the doors, but a rosebush obscured her view. “Is a man there looking as if he seeks someone?”
Lord Amesbury’s gaze moved to the open doors again. “No. You’re safe for the moment.” He held out his arm. “I’ll see you back.”
Alicia took his offered arm, and they ascended the garden steps toward the ballroom while music wafted through the open doors. She missed her step but hardly had time to cry out before his free arm encircled her waist, steadying her. With his face so near hers, his eyes focused on her lips. Her heart thumped against her ribs so hard she wondered if he could hear it.
Acutely aware of his presence and the danger of behaving unseemly, she put her hand against him and pressed lightly to push him away. His chest felt hard under her hand. She drew in a deep breath but it failed to steady her. Instead, it filled her with the scent of soap, linen, and citrus, a curious combination of raw masculinity and civilized gentleman. Underneath it all, another scent lingered, something uniquely him.
“Thank you.” She laughed nervously but it sounded more like a hysterical giggle. She wanted to clap a hand over her face. “You appear to be making a habit of coming to my rescue. First my lookout, and now this.”
A crooked grin quirked his mouth. “I hope I’m always present when you need rescuing.”
Handsome, wealthy, and kind? This had to be a dream. Alicia had never believed in love at first sight, but she now understood what gave birth to the idea. If only she could transform into someone beautiful and poised, he might be interested in her.
What was she thinking? She came from the impoverished gentry, without a respectable dowry, and her family was quickly losing acceptance in society. A man of Lord Amesbury’s ilk would never wed someone like her.
And yet, his eyes held a gleam suggesting he might be interested in her at some level. That gleam should have frightened her, but instead only quickened her pulse. She pushed harder, and he released her. Slowly.