by Donna Hatch
“I have a solution that can benefit you all.”
Robert studied him coldly. “Force her to marry you?”
Cole stiffened at the use of the word “force.” “No. By asking her to marry me. I have doubts that she will accept the man who killed her brother, but I must try. I owe it to her. I owe it to Armand.”
“I should kill you myself.”
“Would that help your family out of their current straits?”
The younger Palmer considered. “Very well. Come with me.”
Cole followed him into a dark, dust-covered study where he found Willard Palmer standing by a fireplace with a glass of port in his hand.
“Father. Lord Amesbury would like a moment.”
The look of pure hatred on the elder Palmer’s face as he recognized the name nearly unnerved Cole. He steadied himself. “I have come with a business proposal for you.”
Beside Cole, young Palmer shifted.
Willard Palmer’s eyes narrowed. “I should throw you out.”
“It would be to your benefit to listen, sir.”
The elder Palmer shifted his gaze to his son. “I can’t believe you let that blackguard into our home. Have you no backbone?”
“My proposal is this, Mr. Palmer,” Cole cut in, “I will settle every debt you owe, finance Hannah’s debut in London next Season, and pay you an additional sum to help you form a new start, if Miss Palmer agrees—willingly—to marry me.”
Willard considered, and the hope in his eyes nearly softened Cole’s distaste for the way he insisted on using his niece. Then the hope faded and his face hardened.
“You shot my nephew in a duel, inflicting wounds which ultimately killed him. The feelings my niece undoubtedly harbors for you will preclude a marriage to you. She may feel as if she must accept you for our sake, but I am not a heartless monster. I will not ask her to marry a man such as you.”
Cutting as Palmer’s words were, they actually earned Cole’s admiration that Palmer tried to protect his niece from a perceived villain. Cole had viewed him as callous and grasping, using her for his own agenda. It was possible the man simply had no judgment of character, based on the men he asked Alicia to consider as suitors. Or he was truly desperate.
Cole drew himself up. “Then you believe Colonel Westin to be a better choice.”
Mr. Palmer pinned him with an accusing stare. “To my knowledge, he does not engage in dueling.”
Inwardly wincing, Cole raised his head. “Then allow me to ask her feelings on the matter. Let her decide if she’d rather have me or Colonel Westin.”
“No. She was terribly overset after your last meeting. I will not subject her to another. Good day.”
Not an unexpected response, but a foolish, senseless one, nonetheless. Cole ground his teeth and forced his voice to remain steady. “Sir, I urge you to reconsider.”
“She has accepted the colonel. We have only to formalize the agreement. Remove yourself from my house.”
Conceding the battle, but not the war, Cole bowed to the father and turned to the son. “Will you see me out, Mr. Palmer?” he asked the younger Palmer quietly. He was almost surprised when the young man complied. In the foyer, Cole turned to the younger man. “Can you arrange a meeting with her?”
“She’s not receiving callers. She’s recovering from a snake bite.”
Alarm jolted Cole. “A snake bite?”
His expression very grave, Palmer rubbed a hand over his face. “An adder, apparently.”
His heart thudded. “Is she seriously ill?”
“She gave us a good scare, but she’s much improved now.”
Cole steadied his breathing, dismayed at how the news frightened him. He’d heard of people dying from adder bites. He held out a note to Palmer.
“Give this to her. Please.”
Palmer stared at him for a long moment. Slowly, he reached out and took the note, staring at it as if it were a poisonous serpent. Or an adder.
Keeping his voice barely above a whisper, Cole urged, “At least give her the choice.”
Palmer nodded slowly. The note was only folded, not sealed, and Cole had no doubt Palmer would read it before deciding whether or not to give it to his cousin.
A light rain fell as Cole rode, but he passed through it with little notice. He would have to resort to more desperate means. Cole had a daring, insane plan formulated by the time he reached his uncle’s house.
When he explained it to Aunt Livy, she pierced him with her gaze. “Cole, I fear no good will come of this.”
“I admit it’s not a perfect plan. I could simply abduct her. That would save her from anyone who might harm her.”
“And bring that kind of scandal upon her? You can’t be serious.”
It would also fuel her already strong hatred toward him. Cole fixed a baleful stare upon her. “Do you have a better suggestion?”
“Give me time and I’m sure…”
“There is no time. I must act now.”
She heaved a sigh. “Why won’t Mr. Palmer consider you? You could help them.”
“Because she hates me. The whole family does.”
A faint smile touched her mouth. “You do seem to have that effect on them.”
He couldn’t blame them. “I have that effect on many.”
“Care to explain why?”
“No, ma’am.”
Her shrewd gaze left him with the urge to squirm. “Very well. I will help you with the arrangements, but I do not approve of this scheme.”
“I know. But I don’t know what else to do.”
Her gaze nearly pierced his shields. “Do you love her?”
Cole forced himself to look her in the eye. “Of course not. I’m just trying to save her.”
“You are the man she should be marrying.”
“That’s no longer a viable alternative.”
“So you would have Nicholas marry her? She’ll be terrified.”
“I know.” His voice sounded as hollow as the place in his heart. “It’s the only way to save her.”
“Then who will save you?” she asked quietly, with tears shimmering in her eyes.
More frightened than he cared to admit, Cole left to see to one last detail. Outside, the light rain had turned into a drenching downpour. André’s hooves slogged over a seldom-traveled road to Colonel Westin’s manor house. Soaked and grimly determined, Cole pressed on. Trees leaned mournfully under the rainfall against a darkened sky.
At Colonel Westin’s manor, an elderly footman opened the door and eyed Cole with disdain.
As if completely unaware of his clothes dripping on the doorstep, Cole solemnly handed him his card. “I require a moment of Colonel Westin’s time, if he would be so kind.”
The footman read the card and eyed Cole suspiciously, convinced that any man with such a shocking appearance could not possibly be a viscount. “A moment, if you please, my lord.” He disappeared without taking Cole’s hat or coat.
Cole waited in the foyer and dripped on the floor. No candles burned, leaving only the faint light from outside the windows to illuminate the room. Not only the temperature, but the ambiance of this house felt cold. Though the décor whispered of money of an era long gone, gloom drowned out the opulence of the room.
The spreading puddle at Cole’s feet reached the first doorway when a balding man approached. Though customary for a servant to lead a guest to the host, the master probably came to him because he did not wish to have his carpets sodden by an unseemly visitor.
The colonel perused Cole with disdain. “Lord Amesbury, I presume.”
“Yes, sir. We met briefly at the race.”
“To what do I owe the honor of this unprecedented visit?” His tone suggested he felt anything but honored by Cole’s call.
Cole kept his voice deferential. He clearly outranked the colonel in social standing, but the man was still Cole’s elder, and that, at least, required respect. “It is my understanding that you have been courting Miss Palmer.
”
“I fail to understand why this is your concern.”
“Her brother Armand and I were old friends.” The lie rolled glibly off his tongue. “Now that he is departed, I feel it my duty to look after her welfare. I do not believe either he or her father would approve of a match between you.”
The colonel stiffened. “I have much to offer her.”
“She’s the age of your granddaughter.”
The colonel’s mouth tightened. “Our age difference may not be as much a hindrance as you suppose.”
Cole hated stripping the man of his dignity, even if he was an overbearing cad who publicly degraded Alicia. His purpose was to convince the man to lose interest in Alicia, not question his manhood. “You are on a different maturity and intellectual level.”
The colonel’s bluster faded. “She… she needs a husband quickly. She has few choices. And I am weary of being alone.”
Cole poured a soothing tone into his voice. “She still has other options; do not be concerned for her. You, however, are a respected war hero. You don’t want a wife who marries you because she has no other choice, do you? That’s a bit insulting. You deserve a mature wife who shares your interests.”
The Colonel deliberated. “I had considered going to London next Season in the hopes of meeting a more mature widow.”
“Splendid! My aunt Olivia is well respected in London. She could arrange a few introductions for you to ladies of your station. I will speak to her immediately. I understand you’ve hunted in Africa?”
The colonel’s chest puffed out. “Yes. A number of times. Capital game there.”
“The ladies adore tales of travel, especially Africa. I’m confident you’ll have no trouble finding someone who appreciates all you have to offer. All you need are a few introductions.”
The colonel considered. Cole curbed his impatience.
The older man nodded. “Very well, I accept.”
“Excellent. My aunt loves to play matchmaker. In no time, she’ll have an impressive list of suitable prospects for you to consider.”
The colonel stood a little taller and shook Cole’s hand. “Thank you, my lord. Forgive me, may I offer you a drink?”
“Regretfully, I have another engagement but I appreciate your time.”
Cole affected a bow and departed. Now that the competition had been eliminated, he could implement the final stage in Alicia’s rescue. If only he could carry her off and marry her himself. Abduction sounded more appealing every moment.
Chapter 13
Alicia awoke to a knock at the door and a terse whisper calling her name. The sun had set hours ago. She threw on a robe and opened the door, pushing her hair away from her face.
“What is it, Robbie?”
“Colonel Westin has withdrawn his offer.”
Alicia’s mouth fell open. She shrank from the prospect of marrying the overbearing colonel, but without him, and his money, she had no hope of saving her family. Panic edged in.
“What are we going to do?”
“There’s a new suitor, some baron from Northumberland. A distant relation to Viscount Amesbury, I believe. I hear he’s badly scarred. He walks with a limp and wears a mask.”
Alicia’s heart dropped to her stomach. She’d been spared the man who had tried to force himself upon her, as well as the complaining stuffed-shirt who publicly humiliated her, only to face a scarred, masked stranger. She pressed her hand over her eyes.
“The baron’s agent is here with his offer. He and Father have been speaking for hours.” He paused. “Alicia, there is a way to save yourself.”
She lowered her hand and searched Robbie’s face.
“Lord Amesbury has offered for you, but Father wouldn’t consider it. Amesbury asked me to give you this.” He held out a folded paper. “He wants you to elope with him. He promises you an honorable marriage and vows to be generous with the family.”
Aghast and breathless, she stared. “You wish me to wed Armand’s killer?”
Looking anguished, Robert scrubbed his hand over his face. “I think he’ll treat you better than the others would have. And I don’t hold Amesbury entirely responsible for the duel. I should have stopped them, but Armand was so eager for it. And that woman was there, egging them both on, demanding her honor be defended. Amesbury only shot Armand in the arm. He didn’t intend to kill him.”
Bitterness welled up inside her. “His intent does not change the outcome. You may forgive him, but I cannot.” She crumpled up the note and threw it down. “I’ll take the scarred stranger over Cole Amesbury.” Chill spread through her limbs and her words choked her.
The following morning at breakfast, Uncle Willard announced that their transaction had been agreed upon, and all they lacked was Alicia’s cooperation.
“The baron will meet you this afternoon. Unless you object, he will wed you after he obtains a special license.”
Alicia sat with her head bowed, absorbing the news that her marriage to a stranger had already been arranged. “Have you any notion of his character?” she asked numbly.
“His agent was most loyal to him and assured me that the baron lacked the vices that normally plague the aristocracy. He doesn’t gamble or drink excessively, and has never kept a mistress. He said his lord is most generous and is viewed as a kind and tolerant man by his servants and peers.”
Alicia was frankly surprised that Uncle had taken such care as to inquire about the baron. None of the other men he insisted she consider had appeared to have undergone any sort of scrutiny.
With Hannah’s aid, she dressed with care to prepare to meet her future husband. Hannah and Alicia waited nervously in the parlor for the baron’s arrival. Uncle promised to be present, but Robert had already drunk himself into oblivion.
“A grand coach is here,” Hannah said from the window.
Alicia listened with pounding heart as the footmen spoke. The other voice was too low to carry to her, but footsteps neared.
“Lord Amesbury to see you, Miss.”
Alicia shot out of her seat. “Lord Amesbury!”
Uncle Willard strode in. “Ah, excellent. Show the baron in.”
Then she realized her error. Not Cole Amesbury, but rather that distant relation, the baron, had come as promised. Her mingled relief and disappointment left her reeling, but she did not have time to examine her feelings.
A large man stood in the doorway, his face covered by a loose cloth mask. A billowing dark cloak concealed all but his legs and head. An ominous sight, he executed a stiff bow and limped into the room, leaning heavily on a cane. Her imagination conjured images of a monstrous, twisted face. The dark form stopped too close. Gulping down her fear, she refrained from stepping away. Hannah’s hand felt icy in hers.
As Uncle Willard made the introductions, Alicia and Hannah sank into curtseys.
“Miss Palmer. Miss Hannah.” He spoke in a gruff, gravely voice muffled by the mask.
Alicia stammered a reply with no more eloquence than poor Hannah, whom she feared would swoon. When they sat, the baron took an armchair nearest the divan where Alicia sat with Hannah. Alicia consciously refrained from squirming or fidgeting as they made customary small talk. The baron faced her but the mask was so featureless, he could have been looking behind her. Even his eyes were covered. He spoke carefully, quietly as they exchanged dutiful pleasantries.
When there was a pause in the conversation, the baron turned to her. “Miss Palmer, I know you must believe yourself without any say in the matter, considering the circumstances, but if you favor another, I will be a gentleman and step aside.”
Alicia twisted her handkerchief in her hands. “There’s no one else, my lord.”
“I realize I’m not exactly every young girl’s dream of a husband. But I wish for the companionship of a wife and I desire to have an heir eventually. I live quietly, out of busy social circles, and cannot offer you a life of glamour, but I have enough wealth that I can promise you that you will lack for nothing.”
Alicia forced herself to look at the expressionless mask. “I appreciate your gesture, my lord.” She almost added that she was not motivated by money, but that would make her seem a liar since she clearly only considered him because his wealth would help her family. In the settlement to which he and Uncle Willard had agreed, he’d offered a staggering sum to Uncle Willard. To Alicia, he’d given generous pin money, dress allowance, and jointure if she outlived him. And Hannah’s dowry would make her appealing to any suitor in London—not enough to attract fortune hunters, but not so small that she’d be deemed unsuitable. None of Alicia’s other suitors came close to his settlement. He spoke the truth; she’d never live in poverty. And he would save her family from debtor’s prison. That should have been enough to banish the rising nausea. Should have been, but it wasn’t.
She directed her attention to the baron who was speaking in soft tones.
“I’m not temperamental, and I would never raise my hand against you. I give you my word that I will be a good husband to you, Miss Palmer.”
Unable to look at that expressionless mask, she looked down at her wet, crushed handkerchief.
“Will you have me?” he asked softly.
Already he seemed a better man than either Mr. Braxton or Colonel Westin. But her fear nearly overwhelmed her. He waited expectantly. Her imagination conjured horrifying images of his face, his body, the demands he as her husband would make upon her. It was him, or prison. She had no other options.
She forced herself to look at the blank mask. “Yes, my lord. I will have you.”
Hannah fainted.
Chapter 14
The day of the wedding dawned bright and clear. Hannah had stayed in Alicia’s bed with her through the night, weeping so much that Alicia feared she’d have to give her laudanum to make her sleep. Hannah had been ill at the thought of Alicia marrying such a frightening-looking man, and worse, that she did it to save them all from ruin. For Hannah’s sake, Alicia had attempted to show a brave face and tried to speak anything positive that entered her mind.