The Stranger She Married (Rogue Hearts Book 1)

by Donna Hatch

  London. She hadn’t been there in a year and a half. Living here with only her untouchable husband and the servants had left her feeling restless, caged. The ball should have solved that, but instead her thoughts centered on Cole whose easy laughter but tortured eyes tormented her constantly.

  “I would like to go to London.”

  “Excellent. Tell Monique to pack your things. We’ll leave at the end of the week.”

  Alicia spent the next several days in a flurry of excitement. Her enthusiasm even seemed to rub off on her quiet husband who seemed to have more energy than normal.

  “The staff at my house in London have been informed of our arrival and will have the house in order by the time we arrive,” he told her as they skirted the edges of the lake. Two swans glided silently by, leaving ripples in their wake. The lake mirrored a clear blue sky, darker in the reflection. Deep blue, like Cole’s eyes.

  With a start, she smothered any further thoughts of Cole Amesbury and fixed her mind upon her upcoming trip to London. Her husband was speaking, his soft, muffled voice outlining details of his town home and of the servants’ names and duties.

  “I understand Cole returned to London last week. Perhaps he will agree to escort you to the diversions Town offers when I am unable.”

  At the mention of Cole’s name, her cheeks heated. “I’m sure he is quite busy.”

  The baron turned to her. “Did you not enjoy your time at the ball with him? He said you spent much of the evening together.”

  “Yes, of course I did. He was very attentive to me.”

  “I knew he would be. I’m glad he escorted you home and was there to protect you when the highwaymen attacked.”

  “I am as well.” She hesitated. “My lord, do you trust him that much?”

  “Why? Was he not a gentleman?” he asked sharply.

  Oh, heavens, she couldn’t have her husband challenging Cole to a duel! “Yes, of course he was,” she replied quickly, her face warming at the lie. “But are you sure he will remain such?”

  With a slight chuckle in his voice, he said, “You are a temptation to any man, Alicia. I am sure he is not immune to your charm. However, I trust he knows his place.”

  Alicia frowned at her husband’s choice of words.

  “And did he not protect you when the Highwaymen attacked?”

  “Yes. He was very brave.” She paused. “A bullet grazed his arm.”

  “A minor wound that has healed completely.” His voice sounded flat.

  She took a breath. “I thought you were close. But you often speak of him in less than flattering tones.”

  “We are close. But he is whole. I am trapped inside this mask. I cannot help but envy him.”

  Their trip to London began at the same slow pace as their trip to their estate had been after their wedding ceremony, with frequent stops for meals and stays overnight at the posting inns that dotted the roads. Monique saw to her every need with tender loyalty. The baron watched over her protectively, and their conversation grew more comfortable.

  One morning, as she left the inn and climbed into the front carriage, she paused. Both footmen and the coachman carried guns.

  She turned to her husband. “We are traveling heavily armed.”

  “I am taking no chances with your safety, my lady.”

  “Because of the highwaymen attack?”

  “I fear that may not have been an isolated incident.” He handed her in and climbed slowly in to sit across from her. He laid his cane on the floor and wedged it to prevent it from rolling.

  “Meaning, you think highwaymen are getting bolder, or that they were specifically after me?”

  “I have not yet decided.” He offered no more on the subject and steered the conversation to other matters.

  The crowded streets of London caused them to wind slowly along their way. The working classes hurried along in the streets and the parks, while the nobility were notably absent. Most left the city for the summer months and would not return to Town until the Season began.

  The baron’s coach entered Pall Mall, passed a beautiful park, and stopped in front of a house with a tastefully elegant façade.

  “Home at last,” Lord Amesbury muttered, his muffled voice betraying an uncharacteristic tone of irritability.

  Her eyes moved to her husband. With shame, she realized that he was probably miserable always wearing his hood and mask.

  Inside, the town home rivaled his country home in grandeur. With Grecian flavor, the entry boasted of sweeping staircases and marble floors that managed to be lavish without being ostentatious.

  Her husband presented her to the staff and then she was led to her room. Peach silk papered the walls, and white, gilded furniture decorated the room.

  After taking a bath and changing into her evening gown, Alicia felt much more refreshed. The servants seemed eager to please her and the meal was excellent, but eating alone invoked a deep loneliness. Normally, Lord Amesbury joined her as she finished dinner, but tonight he failed to appear. Perhaps the journey had aggravated old wounds.

  As the sun set, she stepped out to the diminutive city garden under a sky darkening with thunderclouds. A chill gust of air flowed over her. Deeply breathing, Alicia let her head fall back and closed her eyes. Moments later, the soft pattering of raindrops broke the stillness of the evening. Alicia remained still, reveling in the icy drops on her face.

  Her thoughts inexplicably turned to Cole. She remembered the hurt in his eyes after he’d been shot defending her. Not from the pain of the bullet, but his thought that she might be glad he had suffered the same wound he had inflicted on Armand. A few months ago, she might have felt a grim satisfaction at the poetic justice fate dealt him. Now that her feelings toward him had softened, seeing him wounded only grieved her.

  She pressed her hands over her face. This would not do. When the rain began to fall with more force, she went back inside.

  His valet, Jeffries, approached. “My lady? My lord sends his regrets. He is quite fatigued. He will not be joining you this evening.”

  Disappointed, she murmured, “Thank you, Jeffries.”

  Alicia went to the drawing room and sat by the windows, listening to the soothing cadence of the softly falling rain. Turning, her eyes fell upon a richly carved pianoforte.

  Having been assured throughout her life that she had no talent for it, she seldom played unless no one listened. Still, playing soothed her and she was not above recognizing that her skill, if not her talent, had improved since she renewed her daily playing.

  With the rain as accompaniment and with her thoughts circling, her fingers touched the keys. She played a minuet first and then a rhapsody. After running through easier pieces, she launched into more difficult compositions. They took all of her concentration and she completely immersed herself into the music.

  Calmed, she began playing a slow sonata. Something about the sweet, sad feeling of the music again brought to mind thoughts of Cole. She relived his gentle, hungry kiss, the restraint he exercised when he could have easily overpowered her, the aching tenderness he stirred in her. She had progressed well into the third movement when she heard a soft sound behind her. As she turned in her seat, a slight gasp escaped her lips; Cole stood there. Her fingers fell away from the keys and she stood.

  “I didn’t know you played so well.” Cole’s voice washed over her, warming her face and spurring her heartbeat.

  She clasped her hands together. “I don’t.”

  “Trust me; that was truly great. I’ve never heard that piece played with such feeling, such… passion. Please, continue. I did not mean to interrupt.”

  He stood leaning lazily against the door frame with his arms folded, something forbidden smoldering in his blue eyes. Impeccably dressed as always, dark hair smoothed to a shine, he radiated confident sensuality. No lady should have to endure his presence un-chaperoned.

  The memory of his kiss and her traitorous desire to repeat it leapt into her thoughts, but guilt squ
ashed them ruthlessly. She consciously released her clenched hands and placed them to her sides.

  “Do you make a habit of walking into your cousin’s home unannounced?” she asked irritably.

  Unperturbed, he grinned, his eyes locking with hers the way they had when she’d first met him. “Only with the proper motivation.”

  She frowned at him and folded her arms. “May I ask the reason for your visit, sir?”

  His maddeningly handsome grin only deepened. “Nicholas sent word that you had both come back into Town. I came to speak with him, but I think I’d rather spend the evening with you.”

  “He has already retired.”

  “Excellent. Then I have my wish.” He crossed the room and sprawled in an armchair as if he belonged there. “How was your journey? Tedious?”

  She sighed that he’d so blatantly taken a seat while leaving a lady standing. “Has anyone ever told you that you are impossible?”

  “Frequently,” came his cheerful and instant reply.

  “And do you always flout the rules of etiquette this way?”

  “Just often enough to be annoying.”

  When she did not soften, his tone turned slightly pleading. “Talk to me, Cousin. London has been dreadfully dull. Now that you are here, I know it will improve.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t you have some poor, defenseless courtesan to harass?”

  His contagious laughter drew a reluctant smile from her lips. Seeing him whole and well assuaged her concern over his gunshot wound and her guilt that he had received it protecting her. Had he actually grown more handsome in the weeks since she’d last seen him? Torn between hope and fear that he might broach the subject of their actions during their last encounter, or try to repeat them, she sat near the window at a safe distance from him.

  A knowing smile touched his expressive mouth. “Have you ever been to the opera?”

  His sudden change in topic caught her off guard. “The opera? Yes, I attended twice when I was last in London.”

  “How did you find it?”

  “Breathtaking. And I was glad that my mother insisted I learn Italian as well as French.”

  “Then you’ll accompany me tomorrow night?”

  “Don’t you think that will create scandal?”

  “You should know by now I’ve never cared much for the approval of others.”

  “Ah, yes, so I gathered,” she said dryly.

  “However, I do not wish to tarnish your reputation. Aunt Livy has asked me to accompany her, both in the carriage and in the box. My uncle came into Town on business and she accompanied him.”

  She hesitated. Spending more time with Cole was a bad idea for a number of reasons. But temptation tugged at her.

  He added, “Nicholas told me he would be unable to attend you as he ought during your stay due to his many business obligations. He was quite insistent that you not be neglected. You wouldn’t want him to feel guilty for not attending to you after all he’s done for you, would you?”

  If his eyes hadn’t twinkled so merrily, she might have been angry at his implication, but she could not resist his winning smile. She threw her hands up in resignation. “Very well, I accept—for his sake. And because I’d like to see your aunt and uncle again.”

  Cole inclined his head in a mocking bow. “I’m speechless at your enthusiasm.”

  A smile escaped her in spite of her efforts. He really was incorrigible.

  He placed a hand over his heart. “Ahh, there it is. The reason I rise every day. I was beginning to despair of earning one of those today. You have no idea what a beautiful smile you have, do you?”

  Her pleasure dimmed. “I don’t….”

  “Of course you do. The problem is, no one has paid you enough compliments. I must have a word with your errant husband about the necessity of expressing praises to your beauty. Or perhaps I should take over that duty.”

  Alicia lowered her eyes.

  His voice softened. “What troubles you this evening?”

  She blinked. “Pardon?”

  “You seemed a bit out of sorts. Nicholas not treating you well?”

  “Of course he’s treating me well,” she snapped.

  “Then what is it?” Though a teasing smile played around his lips, his eyes took on a curiously serious light.

  How could she tell him that her treacherous thoughts often centered around him and that his frequent appearances only made it worse? He was not a man she wanted her mind to dwell upon.

  Lamely, she said, “I’m fatigued from the trip.”

  Cole quietly watched her, thoughtful, assessing. “I cause you distress.”

  She folded her hands together and twisted her wedding band, hoping he did not know the turmoil of her thoughts, and tried to formulate an appropriate reply. She failed.

  Quieter still, he added, “You still hate me.”

  This caught her attention. His carefully impassive face almost fooled her, but something flickered in his eyes.

  Fully meeting his stare, she said, “No.”

  He leapt to his feet and moved to the window. The rain pattering on the panes and the distant rumble of thunder were the only sounds audible. She remained rooted in her seat, using every shred of self-control to refrain from going to him, putting her arms around him, comforting him, reassuring him.

  She remained still. “I told you the last time we were together, I do not hate you—not any longer.”

  As he turned back, hope and despair mingled in his expression. With all the silence and grace of a cat, he slid into the seat next to her. His hand covered hers as his focus moved downward to her mouth. Her breath caught. He lightly caressed the back of her hand with his thumb.

  Dangerous.

  She longed to throw herself into his arms and press her mouth against his. Quelling such inappropriate thoughts, she withdrew her hand and scooted back to a safer distance.

  A wry smile touched his lips.

  She had to leave his tempting presence, immediately. She stood. “Forgive me, but I’m a bit tired from the trip.”

  He stood, all formality. “Then I bid you good night.”

  Both disappointed and relieved, she summoned a smile. “Thank you for calling. Shall I tell my husband that you wished to speak with him?”

  “No, don’t trouble yourself. I will meet Nicholas tomorrow.”

  He leaned in and quickly kissed her cheek before she could back away. His sardonic grin flashed and then he was gone.

  Chapter 22

  Cole fairly skipped in the foyer of the baron’s town house. He was foolish to feel such anticipation at seeing Alicia again, but he seemed powerless to stop himself. His harebrained scheme to save Alicia had done nothing to cure his yearning for her. She would think him unconscionable, but he would do whatever he must to crumble her resistance and earn a place in her arms.

  It wouldn’t be simple, but he could deal with Nicholas if Alicia wanted to be freed from him. After all, Cole’s only reason for bringing in Nicholas was to save her from her other prospects when all of Cole’s attempts to save her honorably had failed. And since no love appeared to be forming within that relationship, there was no reason why he should not court her. He’d know soon enough exactly how to proceed.

  He grinned. He couldn’t remember the last time he had actively pursued a lady. Normally, he dodged them and their schemes. The role of predator was invigorating, and he had no doubt that it would prove a thrilling chase. The reward, when he succeeded, would be sweet. And he would succeed sooner or later.

  As he waited, a whisper of silk attracted his attention. The vision that greeted him nearly brought him to his knees.

  Had he ever thought Alicia only pretty? This glorious being gliding down the stairs in an apricot and cream evening gown robbed him of his breath.

  And when she smiled at him, he knew he’d never use the word “beautiful” lightly again. Her lustrous hair shone rich honey brown and her skin glowed in flawless perfection. The haunting
sorrow that had been her constant companion at their first several meetings had faded. She appeared to have found peace and healing.

  “Alicia,” he murmured when he found his voice. “I cannot tell you how exquisitely beautiful you are.”

  Her brown and golden-flecked eyes shone, and the color at her cheeks deepened. He felt himself falling further. He made no attempt to save himself. He was hers. He could no longer deny it.

  “Glorious,” he whispered. “Breathtaking.”

  She laughed softly. “Thank you, but don’t you think that’s overdoing it a bit?”

  “Absolutely not. I shall have to come up with better ways to compliment you on your beauty.” He bent over her gloved hand and kissed it, wishing he could feel her skin against his lips instead of her gloves.

  Aunt Livy arrived a moment later. “My dear, girl, how lovely to see you again!” She drew Alicia into a motherly hug.

  With obvious embarrassment and pleasure, Alicia returned the embrace and murmured her joy at seeing her again. She made to move away, but when Aunt Livy continued to hug her, she surrendered and leaned against her with her eyes closed, reveling in the touch that had obviously been long absent in her life. She must be missing her own mother a great deal.

  He couldn’t bring back her mother any more than he could bring back his own, but he planned to shower her with all the affection she deserved, whether or not she knew she needed it.

  When Aunt Livy released her, Alicia smiled shyly and turned away to let the footman put on her wrap. “Where is Mr. Fitzpatrick?”

  “He hates the opera, but he sends his best.”

  “I hate the opera, too, but you make me go,” Cole grumbled.

  “That’s because I can bully you better than I can bully my own husband.” Aunt Livy winked at Cole as they entered the carriage.

  They made small talk, Livy providing her usual charming, dry humor as she gossiped about mutual acquaintances. Then, she waved her hands. “Oh, and I simply must introduce you to my niece Mary.”

  “Mary is here?” Cole asked with mingled delight and dread.

  She nodded, sending her ostrich feathers bobbing furiously. “She will be simply mad about you, my dear.”