The Stranger She Married (Rogue Hearts Book 1)

by Donna Hatch

  His obvious desire to redirect her inspired pity for this gentle man who’d lost so much. How would it be to no longer desire to show—or see—one’s own face?

  “A maze?” She imagined becoming hopelessly lost within a labyrinth of green.

  As if reading her thoughts, he put his hand over hers. “I will guide you in and out safely, rest assured. And I will show you the secret so that you will never become lost inside it.”

  “Very well.” She withdrew her hand, not quite able to bear his touch just yet.

  The following morning, he kept his promise. The maze proved more interesting than she expected. With a bright morning sun shining down on them, he led her confidently through it. Inside the wall of hedges, it was a world of quiet stillness, peaceful rather than suffocating. When they emerged in the center, she found a marble fountain falling into a perfectly round raised pool filled with water lilies. Frogs croaked in a rough chorus. Mist from the falling water dampened her face.

  He leaned his cane against a stone bench and took her hand. He tugged gently as he stepped closer, and slowly pulled her into his arms.

  The contact sent waves of alarm racing through her veins. She tensed, but he did not demand anything beyond holding her. He stood silently, his arms around her, lightly pressing her against him. She had expected the soft body of a near invalid. Instead, he felt solid. When he made no further move, her fear faded—just a little—and she let him pull her in tighter. After her initial fear abated, she rested her head lightly against him. His heart thumped underneath her ear. It somehow reassured her that he was human and not a beast.

  “Alicia, is it me you fear, or men in general?” His voice rumbled his chest against her head.

  She moistened her lips and tried to organize her feelings into coherent words. “I fear the act men desire. And which husbands require.”

  Wordlessly, he held her. The waters of the fountain fell merrily into the pool, and birds sang and flirted among the hedges.

  He broke the silence again. “Did someone force himself upon you?”

  With startling clarity, the humiliation and terror she suffered at Mr. Braxton’s hands flooded over her. She realized she was trembling when his arms tightened around her.

  “One of my suitors tried to, but I fought him off. He did not rob me of my virtue, but I learned enough about it that I… am reluctant to do that. I know it’s your right, but—”

  “Shhh. I will never do anything that you will wish to fight off.”

  “But someday you will—”

  “It’s a completely different thing when a woman is with a man who cares about her, and who desires to please her. There is no place in it for fear or hurt.”

  His words, though gently spoken, failed to reassure her.

  Instead, they dredged up his emotionless mask in place of Mr. Braxton’s face and the sick terror she had experienced.

  Here in the maze, they were completely alone. There would be no way of escaping him if he should try to take her here.

  A quiver ran through her body and she pushed herself away from him. “May we go back, now? Please?”

  He released her and stepped back but his hands fisted at his sides. He drew a breath, exhaling slowly, and then spoke with controlled softness. “Yes. The secret is to turn left at the first junction, pass the next entrance, and then turn right. The pattern repeats. If you do that, you will come back out where we began outside the maze.” He retrieved his cane and indicated that she proceed in front of him.

  She led the way, with his reassurances at each intersection, until they stepped out into the gardens.

  Once they were on a familiar path, he made a slight bow. “I need to attend to business, Alicia, but I will join you after dinner.”

  “Of course, my lord.”

  He started to speak, but turned and left without another word. She drew a breath and sat on a cool bench.

  That night, after she undressed, she stood in her boudoir looking up at the stars. A shooting star burst across the eastern sky and faded quickly.

  Like many of her dreams.

  Chapter 18

  Cole read through the columns of figures that sat on his desk. Several of his investments had paid off handsomely and his solicitor had sent him the latest set of figures and proposals.

  His steward had brought a stack of papers, including a request for the cooper to attend one of his tenant’s houses and a suggestion to raise the rents to help cover a rash of repairs many of the houses needed lately. Cole approved the use of the cooper and rejected the rent increase. Then he wrote a letter to a man purported to be a genius at improving crop yield, and asked him to come tour the estate.

  He sat back and rubbed his bleary eyes, glancing at the clock on the mantle. It was not yet dinnertime, but already it felt like midnight. Alicia Palmer, now the Lady Amesbury, had robbed him of sleep many nights. If he didn’t work so hard at wearing himself out riding, fencing, and boxing, he might never sleep.

  A letter sat to one side of the desk, fluttering gently in the breeze from the open window. Aunt Livy had written, asking how he fared and expressing a desire to visit. As much as he enjoyed their company, he did not wish to entertain them at present.

  Restlessness tugged at him and he had to remind himself that he needed to stay here. Always before, he fled back to London or other haunts after the briefest of stays here in the country house, but this time, he needed to remain and take care of long-overdue duties.

  In an attempt to restore his health, his father now resided with the youngest Amesbury son, Christian, in Bath. As the heir, it was time Cole assumed responsibility of caring for the family estate.

  He wrote back to Aunt Livy, inventing wonderful lies about his happiness, and told her he would see her in London this Season if he decided to go. After he finished his correspondence, he leaned back in his chair, wondering again if he had made a colossal mistake in arranging Alicia’s marriage to Nicholas.

  How badly he wanted her!

  Stephens poked his head in the door and grinned. Cole scowled at him, which only broadened the offensively happy expression.

  “Wipe off that idiotic grin, you half-wit,” Cole grumbled.

  His valet tsked, sounding annoyingly like Aunt Livy. “The heat makes you irritable. Perhaps you need to go enjoy the fresh air. Cool off.”

  “Perhaps I need to thrash a cheeky valet again.”

  Stephens chuckled.

  Cole rose and thrust several missives into Stephens’s hands. “See that these are posted.”

  Stephens eyed Cole’s clothes with a frown. “I just pressed that and already it’s rumpled.”

  “I don’t need a nursemaid.”

  Cole went outside and rode André to the fields where the thoroughbred trained. He listened with interest to everything the trainer said to him, and admired his new thoroughbred. Cole watched the fine lines of his newest acquisition as he and his jockey flew past them in graceful strides.

  Without any warning, the horse stumbled and went down in a spray of dirt and turf. The horse rolled over, screaming, with the jockey underneath him.

  Stunned, Cole stood frozen for an instant before he snapped into action. Yelling for someone to bring the doctor, he sprinted to the scene of the disaster and fell to his knees in front of the motionless young jockey.

  He touched the jockey. “Adair? Can you hear me?”

  The young man breathed, but his face was pale and his forehead bled. His eyes remained closed. Cole began running his hand over the lad’s limbs, checking for other injuries.

  The trainer arrived breathlessly. “Adair?”

  “He’s breathing,” Cole said. “See to the horse.”

  The head groom dashed to the thoroughbred. The horse rolled over and struggled to his feet. He walked with a limp. Cole returned his attention to the jockey. He found at least one broken bone in Adair’s arm, and he couldn’t be sure, but possibly a few ribs. Cole shaded the boy and tried to assuage his fears and confusion wh
en he awoke. It seemed an eternity before the doctor arrived.

  The jockey would make a full recovery. The bones had been reset and he would require a long rest.

  However, the thoroughbred was so badly injured that he might never race again. He’d have to be put out to pasture for an indeterminate amount of time.

  Cole took the news in stoic silence, nodded, and went back out to the course. The trainer squatted near the scene of the fall, examining the ground.

  “What caused it?” Cole asked.

  The trainer looked grief-stricken. “A mere divot.”

  Heartsick, Cole nodded, arose, and went for a long walk. He suddenly desperately needed to be with female companionship.

  Alicia sat reading in Poseidon’s garden, enjoying the air and the bright sunshine. As she looked up, she nearly dropped her book.

  Wearing an impeccable suit, and with a self-mocking smile tugging his lips, Cole Amesbury approached. Her memory had failed to duplicate this handsome man. His long-legged stride brought his lean, muscular frame to her before she was ready to face him.

  She jumped to her feet, sending her book tumbling to the ground, and clutched at her heart in a vain effort to still its traitorous thumping.

  His smile broadened, turned smug. “Could it be that you are happy to see me?”

  “Absolutely not!” she replied with as much venom as she could muster. “I was simply surprised.”

  She picked up her book, dusted it off and carefully closed it. When she felt composed enough, she looked up at him and tried to resist admiring his perfect, patrician features, or the way the sunlight glinted on his dark hair, or the broad, strong lines of his body. She found the task difficult.

  She moistened her lips. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, my lord?”

  His grin widened. “Since we are cousins, I believe it would be quite appropriate for you to call me Cole.”

  Sitting on the bench quickly before her knees gave out, she pressed her lips together and lifted her chin. “I pity my husband for having you as a cousin.”

  He laughed, which only intensified her heart’s fluttering. “Well, you know what they say: ‘you can pick your friends but not your relations.’ However, we are a bit of both.”

  Exuding latent sensuality, he sat down on the bench next to her and looked her over with a languorous smile. “You’re looking well. There’s color to your cheeks and you have filled out. Very nicely.” His gaze traveled over her figure while her cheeks heated under his openly appreciative assessment. “I see marriage agrees with you.”

  “He… is good to me.” She wished that the bench were longer so that he would not be seated so near.

  He tilted his head to one side. “‘Good’ to you. He doesn’t make you blissfully happy, though. Less than satisfying as a man, is he?”

  She looked at him sharply. “That’s a terrible thing to say!”

  “It’s true, isn’t it?”

  She opened her mouth and then closed it. Did his eyes have to be so blue? She rose and took a few steps away to put some distance between them, and tried to calm her ridiculous heart. It was maddening the way her senses throbbed when he was near.

  “It is not appropriate for us to discuss this,” she said primly.

  “Oh, I think it is. Actually, it is the reason I came see you.” He arose and followed her.

  Incredulous, she stared. “You jest.”

  “I have come to ask if you’re ready to leave that scarred cripple for a real man who can satisfy all your needs.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “I can’t believe you said that!”

  Those sapphire eyes bored into hers with an intensity that contradicted the lazy grin on his face. He prowled nearer like a dangerous feline stalking its prey, filling her with his presence, his scent. “You don’t really want him. You probably haven’t even consummated the marriage.”

  “How dare you!”

  “Am I wrong?”

  She spluttered. “It’s no concern of yours.”

  “It does concern me. I have come to rescue you from this farce of a marriage. We could leave the country. Go to the continent. No one would ever know of your first mistake.”

  Her eyes blazed. “You are conceited! You assume that I would ever want to be with you, but you are very wrong. I wouldn’t have you if you were the last man alive!”

  A slow smile spread over his lips. “So, you do not claim any loyalty to him, just a healthy hatred of me. That’s all right. The opposite of love is apathy, not hate. Your passion could be channeled into a more useful activity.” He lightly traced his fingers along her cheek.

  Stunned at how delicious his touch felt, she stepped back. “Your lifestyle of debauchery has no place here.”

  His eyes darkened with desire, his lazy grin turning sultry. “He isn’t even a whole man, is he?”

  “I don’t know if he’s whole or—” she broke off, mortified. She had said too much. She put her hands over her burning cheeks.

  His smile broadened gleefully and he pounced on her words. “It’s not him, it’s you! You have rejected him and locked him out of your chambers. If I know Nicholas, he isn’t the type of man who would force his advances.” Determination smoldered beneath his lazy, unconcerned exterior. “If he’s so repulsive that you won’t let him into your bed, then leave with me. I’ll make you forget all about your first so-called marriage, sham that it is.”

  “Why you… of all the aggravating, underhanded… disloyal… immoral…”

  His knowing laughter snapped her mouth closed. The dratted man had perfect knowledge of his effect on her. He neared, his handsome face, his strong body, his masculinity all stirred her awareness in an alarming manner. He advanced like a predator, his meaning clear. She backed away until the unforgiving trunk of a tree halted her retreat.

  A slight smile touched his mouth as he rested one arm on the trunk beside her shoulder and leaned toward her. “Come away with me, Alicia.”

  Her senses filled with his potency, his scent, the desire burning in his eyes. He was wholly male and he desired her. She drew in a ragged breath as trepidation and something else she could not name shot through her. Frightened and ashamed at his power over her, but more angry with her response to him, she cast about for a lifeline and then channeled her emotions toward something else entirely.

  Sudden anger flared and filled her with venom. “I’d die before I’d have a heartless murderer like you!”

  The baron appeared in the doorway of the dining room before Alicia had finished her dinner.

  “Ah, good; you have not yet finished.” He eased himself into his usual seat across from her.

  She offered a polite smile and returned her focus to her plate but ate with little appetite. Cole Amesbury was without a doubt the most frustrating man she’d ever known. He was without conscience. Without scruples. How dare he expect that she’d have anything to do with him, after all he did to her family!

  “You seem distracted tonight,” her husband observed.

  Alicia realized that she had been stabbing her food with her fork without even tasting her dinner. Looking up, she also became aware that he had been speaking and she hadn’t heard a word he had said.

  She set down her fork and picked up her napkin. “Forgive me, my lord.”

  “Is something on your mind?”

  She shook her head wordlessly.

  He leaned back in his chair. For several moments, he watched her. “I understand my cousin Cole paid a visit today.”

  She started, her eyes flying to his face, but, as usual, she found no answers there. Had the servants seen and reported to him? She tried to keep her voice uninterested. “Yes, he did. Are you close?”

  “I’ve known him as long as I can remember. We even went to Cambridge together.” He tilted his head to the side. “Did you talk about anything in particular?”

  She picked up her glass and kept her eyes fixed on it. “Nothing worth mentioning.” She wasn’t sure if she were angrie
r Cole had the nerve to try to tempt her to leave her husband who showed her nothing but kindness, or that he would so quickly betray a family member who was also a close personal friend. He truly was despicable. The more she learned about him, the less she liked him. What a fool she was for letting his beautiful face affect her.

  “Did I mention the Duke of Northumbria is having a ball now that his daughter is of age?” Lord Amesbury asked.

  She gathered her skittering thoughts and focused on his question. “No, I don’t believe so.”

  “Would you like to go?”

  “Of course.”

  “I thought so. I’ve already sent our acceptance. If I remember the process correctly, it requires you to have a new ball gown?”

  Alicia always felt uneasy when he made purchases for her when she clearly did not deserve his money or gifts. “I don’t believe there’s time to have one made. I can wear something I already own. I have so many pretty new things, thanks to you.”

  In the last few weeks, such a vast array of lovely gowns had arrived from both London and Paris that she hadn’t even worn most of them yet. Her wardrobe bulged with gowns, hats, gloves, shoes, stockings, and all the appropriate undergarments of the finest fabrics and trimmed with yards of delicate lace.

  “I have already taken the liberty of arranging for one to be made. Monique saw to the details. It should arrive any day.”

  Guiltily, she dropped her eyes and forced cheer she did not feel into her tone. “Thank you. You are most thoughtful.”

  Amusement touched his voice. “I have two sisters. I would be unforgivably unobservant if I didn’t know at least part of the requirements of a social gathering.”

  Casting about for an appropriate response, she said; “Tell me about your sisters.”

  He paused. “Twins, two years older than I.”

  “Twins,” she whispered. “I was a twin.”

  “I’m so sorry you lost him.” Softly spoken, the sincerity in his voice could not be mistaken.

  She looked sharply at him, but, of course, saw nothing in the expressionless mask. “You know?”

  “Cole told me everything. He lives nearby, so we have occasion to speak. In fact, I have him to thank for our marriage. When he met you, he wrote to me, described you, and told me of your circumstances. He wanted very badly to help you.”