by Donna Hatch
Lady Edenburgh smiled. “I grew up in Ireland. My parents and tutors were all English, but when everyone else speaks with an Irish accent, one picks it up.”
They chatted comfortably, and Lady Edenburgh filled her in on the latest gossip. She spoke briefly of her husband. “Unfortunately, a year after we were wed, he suffered an apoplexy and is a near invalid.”
“Oh, how terrible for you both.”
“We have learned to cope.”
Emboldened by her guest’s forthright manner, Alicia asked, “Pray tell me, have you ever met my husband?”
“I regret that I have not. Lord Amesbury has been either absent, or reclusive for as long as I can remember.”
“Then he seldom attends social functions?”
“None that I’m aware of.”
Poor man. He kept himself shut away from the world. No wonder he was willing to go to such measures to find a wife. His alternative was to live his entire life in solitude.
Chapter 20
On the day of the ball, Monique arranged Alicia’s hair with all the care of a sculptor. Alicia sat looking somberly in the mirror, wishing she felt more excitement. Before events put her into mourning, she had anticipated balls with eagerness. There was little she loved to do as much as dance, to feel completely carried away by the music. A gown had arrived the day before from Paris, a pale green silk with a darker green sash. The hemline pulled up in little flounces held with tiny green ribbons. The wide neckline showed off her smooth white shoulders. She almost felt beautiful. However, a dark foreboding dampened her enthusiasm.
She and her husband would create a sensation when they arrived. Their every move would be discussed and analyzed. Some might look upon her with sympathy, others, with scorn. Perhaps they’d view him as a curiosity, or as the source of apprehension, ridicule, or fear.
By the time Monique slipped her gown over her head, Alicia was tempted to cry off.
“And this one, I think, would be perfect.” Monique retrieved a pearl and diamond necklace from the jewelry case and held it up.
Alicia hesitated. She seldom removed her mother’s locket, yet the baron might feel slighted if she failed to wear any of the family jewelry he’d so generously given her. She removed her locket, set it carefully in the jewelry case, and allowed Monique to fasten the pearls around her neck.
As she pulled on her gloves, Lord Amesbury knocked respectfully and entered at her bidding. She turned to face him, her dress making a slight rustle.
“You look exquisite, my love. The dress is lovely, don’t you agree?”
“It’s beautiful, my lord.”
“And the jewels are perfect.” He drew closer. “You look like a queen.”
“I think I will be afraid all night that I might lose them,” she confessed.
“I hope you will enjoy yourself tonight, Alicia. Do not hurry back. I will see you at dinner tomorrow night.”
Her eyes opened wide.
“I am not going with you, my love. You are a rare beauty and you should not be seen with a frightening creature like me.”
Alicia nodded sadly. She should have known he would not attend, but his bleak self-assessment smote her through the heart. “If they knew you at all, they would not view you as such.”
“Our neighbor, Lady Edenburgh, will attend with you.”
She brightened. “I look forward to seeing her again.”
“And my cousin Cole has agreed to attend. He normally dislikes marriage marts, as he calls them, but he has promised to watch over you this evening.”
Alicia stared. “My lord—”
“I understand your feelings, but I want to make sure you are safe. Cole is the only man I’d trust to protect you as I would if I were present.”
He kissed her cheek in that muffled way that had become familiar to her and left before she could argue further.
Monique fussed over her appearance several more minutes while Alicia fought the rising tremor that leapt to her throat at the mention of Cole’s name. After Monique was satisfied that she appeared picture-perfect, Alicia picked up her wrap and reticule and left her room. Her husband’s door was closed. She paused before it, but then moved on.
Lady Edenburgh’s coach waited outside. The night had cooled and the trees glistened silver in the moonlight.
Alicia chatted happily with Lady Edenburgh and asked about the nearby residents. In her charming Irish accent, Lady Edenburgh gleefully repeated the local gossip. Although the journey took nearly an hour, time passed quickly and they soon arrived at the duke’s home.
When the major-domo announced her as Lady Amesbury, an excited hush rippled through the crowd. Alicia keenly felt the eyes of everyone in attendance upon her, no doubt wondering about the bride of the crippled baron. Desiring to reflect well upon her husband, she tried to move gracefully as she entered the ballroom. Her gown and jewels, she knew, were perfect and she caught smiles of approval, and even one or two of envy.
The host and hostess greeted her warmly and she made her apologies for her husband. They did not seem surprised that he had chosen to remain behind. As she moved on, she halted.
Cole Amesbury stood within arm’s reach, smugly handsome, dressed in impeccable black superfine with a blue and gold striped waistcoat that showed his broad form to its full advantage. A sapphire stick pin the exact color of his eyes glittered from his snowy cravat.
His smile flashed, calmly stirring her into chaos with even greater efficiency than normal. Yet tonight she saw him in a new light. Deep hurt resided behind that confident smile, a hurt she wanted to help heal if she could. But somehow, his effortless control over her senses threw her into a state of irritation.
“My lord,” she greeted him. She tried to keep her voice nonchalant.
His handsome grin widened, and her knees weakened. “Can’t you agree to call me Cole just for tonight? Cousin?”
She raised her chin haughtily. “Very well, Cousin Cole, you scoundrel. I will be civil to you, for my husband’s sake. I am sure you are somehow behind this. How you ever convinced him to allow this ridiculous scheme, I shall never know.”
He awarded her his heart-stopping grin. “Would you believe it was his idea?”
She sniffed. “I suppose he isn’t as intelligent as I thought. It’s like trusting a cat to guard a fish bowl.”
He grinned. “An apt metaphor.” He leaned closer, and her swirling senses spiraled higher. “I have been looking forward to spending this evening with you, Alicia.” He chuckled softly at the look of alarm that must have come over her face. “Fear not, I promise I will be a perfect gentleman. Your gown is exquisite. It suits you perfectly. And the jewels are a nice complement.”
“Thank you.” She eyed his immaculate superfine and the stark white of his shirt and cravat against his tanned skin. “You look well. Dashing, as usual.”
He grinned while something dangerous smoldered in the depths of his eyes. “Dance with me.” It seemed a plea rather than a command. Against her better judgment, she allowed him to lead her to the dance floor as the other dancers lined up for the set.
Armed with a pre-selected arsenal of safe subjects, she asked, “I understand you spent much of your youth at sea?”
He nodded. “I left Cambridge and joined the British Navy when I was fourteen.”
“I am surprised your family let you go away to sea. Normally the heir remains at home, doesn’t he?”
“I often break with convention. I was angry, foolish, and craving excitement.”
“Were you in many sea battles?”
His expression closed over. “Yes.”
She paused, wondering if she should pursue this topic, but the desire to understand the man beneath the flirtatious exterior urged her on. The dance pattern took them apart to dance with others. When they were back together, she looked up at him.
Very gently, she pressed, “Were you wounded?”
Tension radiated from his body and his smile grew tight. “Everyone is wounded at least
once.”
She suspected that he had been hurt in many ways. The ravages of war left their mark on many men. Some bore their scars on the outside where a mask must shield them; others masked emotional scars with a careful expression and a teasing manner.
His voice took on a lighthearted tone, but it sounded forced. “My brother Jared had a different idea. He signed on with a privateer. Fewer rules, better pay. Jared was promoted faster than I. He loved to lord it over me that my younger brother was ahead of me in rank, but since he wasn’t in the Navy, I did not consider it a contest.”
“Did you serve with my husband?”
“On different ships, of course, but we were in some of the same battles. I sold my commission after the war. My brother Jared is still at sea, as captain of his own ship.” His face softened as he spoke of his brother, and his tension dissolved.
The dance set ended and he led her off the floor. They sat on a sofa between two large ferns and sipped drinks Cole snatched from a passing tray.
“Tell me of your brother,” she urged. “Jared, is it?’
“I have three living brothers. Jared…” he let his breath out slowly as if trying to determine how much to divulge. “He’s been living as a pirate for nearly three years. It’s a role he’s taken to rather well. Perhaps too well.” He glanced at her. “I’m trusting you with this family secret.”
She nodded to assure him she would never breathe a word.
He grinned, his eyes taking on a faraway look. “He’s arrogant, incorrigible, and completely without honor.”
“So, in other words, you are much alike,” she interjected with a teasing smile.
He chuckled, his eyes glittering. “I see you know me well.”
He began relating their antics as children. She easily pictured a younger Cole causing mayhem in his corner of the world with adoring younger brothers innocently participating in all of his exploits. With her gently probing questions, he told her of his school days and the pranks he and his classmates orchestrated. Alicia laughed until her cheeks hurt.
Putting her hands against her face, she cocked her head to the side. “What do you do when you are not frittering about the countryside, trying to tempt hapless relatives to cuckold their husbands?”
His easy laugh coaxed another smile out of her as well. “Seeing to the estate takes much time. In my free time, I ride and hunt. When I want something more vigorous, I box and fence. I am fond of horses and horse racing. I actually own several winners.” He spent the next several minutes telling her about his horseflesh, races, and hopes for the future. He related the loss of his newest horse, and the injury of the jockey.
As they talked, her defenses fell. She told him of her childhood and of her parents, her twin, her sister, her terrifying first Season in London with the beau monde dowagers watching her critically.
“Alicia,” said a familiar feminine voice. “Lord Amesbury, what are you doing here?”
Virtually glittering from head to toe, Catherine stood over them, giving Cole her best smile.
Cole shot Catherine quizzical grin. “I was invited, I believe. And you?”
“Visiting my dear niece for her first ball. And you were supposed to come alone.”
Cole smiled. “My cousin asked me to watch over his delightful wife, and I was only too happy to oblige. Lovely to see you again, Miss Sinclair. Good evening.” He stood and led Alicia away.
She tried to stifle a smile. “That may be the first time anyone has ever dared cut Catherine Sinclair,” she said when they were out of earshot.
“She is a shallow, vain, conniving woman. I have had my fill of that sort. They fail to hold my interest.”
“Oh? And who would hold your interest?”
“Someone who’s already rejected me soundly.” He spoke wryly but without rancor, and his smoldering gaze heated her cheeks.
The evening was a magical swirl of music, lights, dancing, and Cole’s smile. When other men asked her to dance, he glared at them and only grudgingly stepped back to allow them to take her hand. Under his attentiveness and open looks of admiration, she blushed with pleasure and something else she did not dare identify. Light and giddy, she forgot everything but the brightness of his smile and the feel of his strong arms around her waist as they waltzed across the dance floor. After a mouth-watering dinner, there was more dancing.
Captain Hawthorne had come as Catherine’s guest. His handsome face and dark eyes brought a smile to Alicia as he greeted her with a polite bow and asked for a dance.
“I’d be delighted.” They wove through the intricate pattern amongst the other dancers. “I am happy to see a familiar face here, Captain Hawthorne. You’ve come a goodly distance, have you not?”
“I have,” he replied. “You’re looking well, Lady Amesbury.”
“Thank you.” She glanced at Catherine, who stood laughing in a circle of ardent admirers. “Are you and Miss Sinclair...?”
His dark eyes were shielded. “I’m not certain. I do not believe my lineage is impressive enough for her.”
“Then she is blind. You are handsome, polite, and your father is a respected gentleman. Any girl should be grateful for your attentions.”
He inclined his head in a bow but sorrow touched his dark eyes. “You are very kind to say so.”
The dance ended and he thanked her for the honor. Cole appeared at her side, greeted Captain Hawthorne cordially, and took her hand again, sweeping her away.
A footman appeared with the message that Lady Edenburgh had fallen ill. The hostess had offered to let her remain for the night and had already put her to bed.
Alicia’s bliss faded. “Oh, dear, nothing serious, I hope?”
The footman shook his head. “No. The doctor was not sent for, but she developed a dreadful headache.”
Cole seemed to be amused by the whole thing, trying not terribly hard to smother a grin.
“What?” Alicia demanded when the footman departed.
Cole shrugged. “It’s possible her ‘headache’ is nothing more than a tryst with her lover.”
“Cole Amesbury! What a thing to say.”
He chuckled. “Her husband is sixty and an invalid. You can’t expect a thirty-year old woman to live a life of celibacy, can you?”
She glared at him. “Are all men so depraved, or just you?”
He laughed. “Most are, I fear. However, I’d expect her to be a bit more discreet than to leave you to return home alone. Who knows? Maybe it is a mere headache.” He turned pensive. “Nicholas would have my head if he found out I’d let you travel all that way alone. You had better let me escort you home.”
“What? And risk that kind of scandal?”
“You’re a married lady now, Lady Amesbury. The scandal dwindles once you are no longer husband-hunting.”
“Still,” she sputtered. “It would reflect poorly upon me. And him. He—”
“Would shoot me if harm came to you after I allowed you to travel home alone at night. He’s as good a shot as I. And Aunt Livy likes him better. She’d never let me live in peace.” He grinned.
Alicia smiled reluctantly. “Very well. I admit, I’m not overly fond of traveling alone at night.”
His grin turned wry again. “Someday, you’ll say you’d love to spend an hour in my company.”
A gentleman approached for a dance, and the dancing and music swept her away.
All too soon, the magic ended. Alicia’s joy did not, however. She climbed in to Cole’s coach still smiling at her charming escort. They talked and laughed while the coach made its way down the road. The swinging lamps played with the shadows. He lounged across from her, his long legs stretched out and she marveled again at his handsome face and the breadth of his shoulders.
As she relaxed, she became aware of how badly her feet throbbed from so much dancing. She removed her slippers and rubbed her feet.
“Here, let me,” he said.
She only weakly protested as he massaged her sore spots. They looked tiny in
comparison to his large, strong hands.
“Ohh,” she moaned, “that feels wonderful.”
With controlled strength, he coaxed the soreness out.
“Mmmm,” she heard herself moan again.
“Stop that. You’re making my imagination run wild.”
“Hmmm?”
His eyes glittered darkly in the lamplight. “Never mind.” He rubbed her feet until she felt both renewed and drowsy. “Better?”
She smiled, her eyes half-opened. “I think I could dance for a few more hours now. You have magical hands.”
A brow rose faintly. He opened his mouth, but then closed it firmly without speaking. The carriage rolled its way over the rutted road and they fell into a comfortable silence. Slowly, he moved to her side. His hands cupped her cheeks, his thumbs caressing her skin as ever so slowly, his head lowered toward hers. Her heart pounded in anticipation as his nearness, his touch, filled her senses.
A tiny smile touched one corner of his mouth an instant before he brushed her lips with his. Once. Twice. Then he settled in for a kiss. She was lost in the sweet warmth that permeated her body, vibrating every nerve, stirring her to acute alertness. He tasted mildly of sweet wine and cinnamon. She breathed deeply of his masculine scent while his surprisingly soft lips gently tugged at hers.
The only other man who had tried to kiss her had been rough, brutal, and nothing like this. Only the slightest pressure of his large, strong hands on her face kept them anchored beyond the gentle contact of their lips. She knew she could escape at any time and he would not press her, but escape was not her wish. She wanted more.
He obliged her unspoken desire. His hands guided her head to a different angle, coaxing her lips to part. He deepened the kiss, his controlled passion coaxing her to follow, stirring her to greater heat.
She met him, hesitantly at first, but as desire stirred her blood, she let her hunger guide her in response. His heart thudded under her hand. Instinctively, she slid one hand up his coat toward his head, speared his surprisingly soft hair with her fingers, and pulled his mouth more firmly upon hers. A strangled groan escaped him and he trembled with restraint. Sweet desire made her pulse gallop.