The Stranger She Married (Rogue Hearts Book 1)

by Donna Hatch

  “I plotted to kill him once,” Jared offered cheerfully.

  Alicia gasped. “You didn’t!”

  Jared blinked as if surprised she’d oppose such a thing. “I didn’t carry out my plan. Mother found out.” He let out a slow breath as if he’d been the one who nearly lost his life.

  “Oh, dear, what have I gotten myself into?” Alicia fanned herself dramatically.

  Cole swept her into his arms and kissed her soundly. “A lifetime of happiness, my dear.”

  “It certainly won’t be dull,” she agreed.

  Rudely ignoring Jared, Cole kissed Alicia again. This time his lips lingered. She sighed and leaned against him, counting herself fortunate indeed, and vowed again to love him for all eternity. Then, immersed in his scent, his warmth, his kiss, she thought of nothing at all.

  I hope you enjoy the first chapter of Book Two of The Rogue Hearts Series, The Guise of a Gentleman:

  Chapter 1

  England, 1819

  Lily Standwich was a traitor. Elise choked on her tea, hoping she’d simply heard wrong. But no, Lily had indeed betrayed their pact.

  Seated in her front parlor, Elise set down her teacup with a bit more force than she ought to have on the Chippendale table. “Married? Lily! What are you thinking?”

  “Oh, good heavens, I’m only forty-two, not a hundred. Why, my hair isn’t even gray yet.” Lily smoothed her dark hair and nibbled her biscuit as if she hadn’t just delivered such shocking news.

  Sinking back against the parlor settee, Elise could only stare. She and Lily had shared so many confidences and reassured each other about the freedoms and pleasures only a financially stable widow could enjoy. Now, they would lose that common bond. Elise would grow old, alone, while all her friends moved into a world dominated by husbands, a world of which she was not a part. Elise didn’t care to have a husband again. Until a moment ago, she’d believed Lily felt the same way. When did Lily change her mind?

  Elise sputtered. “Yes, of course, I didn’t mean to imply you were old, but…but why remarry?”

  Lily gave her a look one normally reserved for a slow-witted child. “I love him. And I want to spend every moment with him, day and night.”

  Dismay weighted Elise’s heart. She knew her friend had been spending time with the widowed Mr. Harrison, possibly even indulging in clandestine meetings with him, but taking a lover hardly equated marriage. Elise would never take a lover, and she’d vowed long ago she would never remarry, a vow Lily had also made. And broken.

  Elise shook her head in disbelief. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  Using her fingers, Lily ticked off a list of Mr. Harrison’s attributes. “He has money of his own, comes from a good family, and already has two sons, so there’s no need of an heir.” She moistened her lips, her expression turning earnest. “But it’s more than that. We truly enjoy one another’s company. He treats me like a queen. For the first time in years, I’m truly happy.” Lily delivered her last sentence with such dreaminess, Elise half-expected her friend to be jesting. She wasn’t.

  Elise’s world tilted to one side and a knot formed in her stomach. She stared absently at the blue and lilac patterns on the carpet and tried to sort her tangled thoughts. “But you had no intention of remarrying.”

  Lily heaved a sigh. “I know I’d often said that. But it was just noise to try to make us both feel better about our widowed state. What else should I have done? Confess I was dying of loneliness?” She touched Elise’s arm, her voice hushing. “I have a chance to be happy again. Can’t you be pleased for me?”

  Her face warming with shame at her own selfishness, Elise managed a wan smile. “Of course. Pray, forgive my ungracious reaction. I was merely surprised.”

  “I understand, my dear.” Lily eyed her with apprehension. “We’re having a soirée in two weeks’ time to celebrate. Will you come?”

  Elise retrieved her tea cup and sipped to give herself time to form an answer. The familiar emptiness in her heart returned. “You know I dislike large gatherings.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt you to make a few social appearances now and again.”

  Sighing, Elise nodded in resignation. “I suppose you’re right. Charlotte Greymore has been telling me the same thing. Just yesterday, in fact. Yet, it doesn’t seem right going to events without Edward at my side.”

  Lily patted her arm. “He was a good man, and you made a lovely couple, but he would not wish you to mourn all your life, any more than John would have wished it for me.”

  Elise looked at her clenched hands. “Perhaps not.”

  “There are any number of eligible gentlemen in the area. It’s possible someday you, too, will remarry and find happiness again.”

  “You know I plan to remain a widow.”

  “Nonsense. You are, what—? Eight and twenty? Hardly in your dotage. A lady as young and lovely as you should not remain at home alone.”

  The usual discomfort arrived that always came on the heels of a compliment. Her late husband had often told her she was comely, but he had seen her through the eyes of love. With a decidedly average figure, hair that had darkened from blond to a color more closely resembling old wash water, and newly lines around her eyes, she had little to tempt a man.

  It didn’t matter. She would never remarry.

  Elise shook her head sadly. “I’m happy for you, Lily, but please do not expect me to follow in your footsteps.”

  “Think of your son. A boy needs a father’s guidance.”

  Of course Lily did not mean to sound callous, but although Edward had been gone for five years, Elise still missed him. No man would ever take his place. And she had no desire to announce to the world that she had ceased mourning him, lest a gentleman entertain the idea she might engage in a liaison. Not that she’d have suitors stumbling all over themselves in the attempt.

  She folded her arms. “I’m not willing to consider remarrying. I’m surprised after all our discussions on the subject over the years you would think I’d so easily change my mind just because you did.”

  “You’re right. I apologize. I know this must seem very sudden to you, given all our talks. I’m happy. And I want you to be happy, too.” Lily paused. “Do come to my party. This will just be a few friends, not a big, elaborate fête.”

  Spurred by a sense of duty to her friend, Elise nodded. “Very well, I will attend and toast to your happiness.”

  Lily smiled. “Excellent. Most of the guests will be old friends. There will be only one new face.”

  “New face?” Suspicion curled in her stomach. “Jared Amesbury has returned to England and has let Richfield Manor for the summer.”

  Elise raised her brows. “Richfield Manor has not been occupied for as long as I can remember.”

  “I suppose Mr. Amesbury wished to rusticate after such a long time overseas. I knew his mother, the countess. Lovely lady. She passed on two years ago. His father, the Fifth Earl of Tarrington, is well- respected, and his children make him proud.”

  The names meant nothing to Elise. She had lived in this summer home in the country just outside Brenniswick since her marriage to Edward nearly ten years ago. Before that, she lived a quiet life a few miles to the north and had traveled very little either before or after her marriage, though she’d spent much of her youth poring over travel books and dreaming of far-away lands awash with adventure. She and her father had often spoken of trips they planned to take when the war ended. Those plans ceased upon his untimely death. Many dreams died with him. The rest of her dreams died with Edward.

  Lily leaned forward, her brown eyes twinkling. “I visited Mr. Amesbury upon his arrival. He has grown into a most handsome man. Educated at Cambridge. I believe he served in the Royal Navy during the war. Or was he a privateer? I forget. No matter. He would be a most welcome addition to Brenniswick, don’t you think?”

  Elise folded her arms and said firmly, “I’m not interested in meeting eligible bachelors or widowers.”

&nbs
p; “Of course not, dear,” Lily agreed too quickly.

  Elise suspected agreeing to come to the soirée had been a mistake. Despite her promises to the contrary, matchmaking appeared to be high on Lily’s menu. Elise had no desire to taste that dish.

  “The soirée is two weeks from tomorrow.”

  Elise took her hand. “Lily, I wish you and Mr. Harrison all the happiness in the world. He’s a fine man and is fortunate, indeed, to have you.”

  Lily smiled, looking relieved. “I can’t tell you how much it means to hear you say that. I feared you’d be disappointed or feel abandoned.”

  How well Lily knew her. But no amount of enticement would have made Elise say anything to hurt her friend. Instead, she again squelched her own feelings and wished Lily happiness.

  After Lily took her leave, Elise stood motionless in the foyer, her emotions spinning like dust motes in the sunlight which swirled around her. Her friends were moving on without her.

  Charlotte Greymore had married two years ago to a fine man she’d loved for years. Now Lily would remarry. Elise would have to face widowhood without her two dearest friends. Oh, they’d see one another from time to time, but things would be different. She’d be alone.

  Nonsense. She had her young son and a large estate to manage for his inheritance. What more did she need? Certainly not a man!

  She took her foolish emotions in hand and wrestled them into submission.

  In the nursery, she checked on her son who sat reading with his nurse, although Colin looked as though he’d rather be chasing frogs by the lake. Colin perked up at her arrival, but she laid a finger over her lips and gestured to his nurse. His shoulders slumping, he sat back on his haunches and propped his chin on his fist. Smiling, she retrieved her hat, gloves and riding crop. As was her custom, she also picked up her double-barreled rifle before heading for the stables.

  Prince’s welcoming whinny met her. At the door, she paused to breathe in the scent of hay and horses. Edward had detested the odors of the stables and always had the stable lads bring his horse to him, tacked up and ready to ride. In contrast, Elise liked the earthy stable smells. They resurrected fond memories of her dear father.

  Matthews, the head groom, whistled as he attended his duties at the far end. Elise entered the darkened interior and moved to Prince’s stall. Prince whinnied again.

  “Hello, Prince.” She set down her gun and ammunition and opened the gate. Upon entering his stall, she rubbed the horse’s muzzle and ran her hands down his neck and back.

  Prince put his head over her shoulder and, using the underside of his chin, he pulled her against his neck for a horse hug. She wrapped her arms around him, savoring his sweet, musty scent and his genuine affection. His lips nipped softly at her neck, and the hairs on his chin tickled.

  He’d been a first-rate hunter in his prime, much like the horse she’d ridden at her father’s side in local fox hunts in her youth, to her mother’s disapproval. When she’d turned sixteen, her mother had announced that Elise needed to give up her wild ways and begin acting like a lady. Too grief-stricken over the recent loss of her father, Elise had bowed to her wishes. She never participated in another fox hunt and married the perfect gentleman.

  “Mornin’, Mrs. Berkley,” Matthews called.

  “Good morning,” she called over her shoulder.

  Matthews threw the tack over the gate where she could easily access it and left her alone with her horse. After tying up Prince so he wouldn’t move about, she brushed him, rubbing her hands along his rich, chestnut coat. Grooming her horse always calmed her when she was troubled, and Lily Standwich’s announcement had left her decidedly unsettled.

  “I don’t understand Lily,” she muttered to Prince. His ears swiveled back to hear her as she brushed his coat to a shine. “You won’t catch me falling for a man or walking meekly into a second marriage.”

  On cue, Prince whinnied and shook his head.

  She laughed softly. “You and Colin are the only ones I could ever love now that Edward, God rest his soul, is gone.”

  Elise had loved Edward, of that there was no question. She’d earnestly strived to be the perfect wife and to conduct herself in all ways to make him proud. Allowing another man into her life would be a betrayal of Edward’s memory. Besides, Elise liked being her own mistress. Was the love of a man truly worth giving up one’s widowhood liberty?

  Elise set aside the brush and tacked up Prince. After stopping for her gun, she led him outside.

  “Nice day for a ride,” Matthews said. He spotted her rifle and made a grunt of satisfaction. He gave her a leg up and stepped back.

  He’d finally stopped asking to accompany her. It simply wasn’t done for a lady to ride alone, but now that Edward was gone, Elise often did things that simply weren’t done. Besides, they were in Brenniswick, hours from the nearest city. Nothing dangerous ever happened in Brenniswick.

  Prince danced against the reins, and she let him have his head. They galloped, leaping over stone fences and hedgerows, avoiding her tenants’ homes and crops. Nearing the north edge of her land, she slowed to wend her way through a grove of birch. Sunlight slanted through the leaves, illuminating patches of soft earth which muted the clopping of Prince’s hoof beats.

  A disembodied male voice shattered the peace in the woods. “I don’t care what you do to the boy. He means nothing to me.”

  Startled, Elise reined. Prince let his breath out in a whoosh. As Elise stroked his neck, he quieted. Not even birdsong broke the afternoon’s silence. A prickle ran down the back of her neck.

  A sharp, mirthless laugh erupted from the trees. “You care, or you wouldn’t have come for him. Talk or the boy dies.” The second man’s voice raised chill bumps on her arms.

  A child cried out in distress and broke off.

  Elise’s imagination painted frightening reasons why a child might be silenced so abruptly. With quickened heartbeat, she urged Prince toward the direction of the voices.

  The first voice floated through the misty air. “Kill the whelp; I don’t care. It won’t change my answer.” The voice ended with a strangled grunt.

  With her pulse hammering in her throat, Elise eased her loaded rifle out of its resting spot by her knees.

  Following the voices, she walked Prince forward, his footsteps muffled in the damp loam. At the edge of a clearing within a hollow, she pulled him to a stop. The scene that met her exceeded her fears. Her heart nearly leaped from her chest.

  Like entertainers in a play, three men and a small boy performed a deadly act. A man with a large, plumed hat slowly pulled a rope stretched over the limb of a nearby tree. The rope encircled the neck of a second man who stood on his toes in a desperate attempt to keep the noose from cutting off his breath.

  Shock rippled through her, robbing her breath. He was being hanged.

  Only a few paces away, a third man with long, black braids straddled a boy who was lying on his stomach on the dirt. The ruffian fisted one hand in the boy’s hair, pulling the head back. The other hand held a knife against the young victim’s exposed throat.

  The man holding the rope spoke in a faintly Spanish accent. “Then Santos will carve him up. Slowly. Since you don’t care.”

  The child appeared to be eight or nine, not much older than Elise’s son. He squeezed his eyes closed, and the pain and terror in his expression twisted her heart.

  “Stop!” the man in the noose gasped. “Let the boy go.”

  The captors exchanged knowing glances. “I knew you were bluffing,” sneered the man with the rope. “First you watch Santos kill the pup, then your turn... unless you talk.”

  The man being hanged twisted against his bonds. “I told you, Leandro, someone else took it. I don’t have it and I don’t know where it is.”

  “Then you are of no use to me alive. I still owe you for killing Macy. I will enjoy watching you die a slow death. But first, the boy. Santos, slit his throat.”

  Horror froze a knot in Elise’s stoma
ch.

  A curved sword hung from Leandro’s belt, but Elise saw no sign of a gun. The boy emitted a cry of pain and fear. Her heart lurched, demanding action. Anger surged, followed by determination. She raised her rifle to her shoulder, sighted down the left barrel at Santos who threatened the boy, and eased her finger over the first trigger.

  “I’ll tell you,” the man in the noose man gasped. “Let him go and I’ll tell you.”

  Leandro pulled hard on the rope until the man’s feet dangled an inch off the ground. The man in the noose let out a strangled noise and abruptly silenced.

  “Gentlemen!” Elise’s voice rang out with more confidence than she felt. “Remove your hands from the boy. Release the man. Get off my land.”

  Every eye turned to her, and mouths dropped open. Whether their surprise stemmed from her sudden appearance or her boldness in addressing them, she did not know.

  The ruffians made no move. Perhaps they needed more encouragement. She braced herself against the rifle’s kick and squeezed the front trigger. The ground erupted in a tiny explosion inches away from Leandro’s feet. Yelping in surprise, the Spaniard released his hold on the rope. The hanging man fell to his knees and collapsed face-down.

  Prince, the hunter that he’d been for years, remained calm.

  Leandro kicked the motionless man on the ground. Elise’s stomach tightened at the brutality. She squeezed the second trigger which fired a ball through the other barrel. The ball hit the ground at the horses’ hooves in the clearing. The horses whinnied and reared and stomped.

  With remarkably calm fingers considering the situation, Elise began the reloading process. Before she could fire another shot, the scoundrels scrambled to their horses. Leandro glowered down at his former victims, his face twisted in rage. Even at this distance, Elise felt his malignant hatred. He galloped away with Santos following him until the trees swallowed them.

  Still lying on his stomach, the boy dropped his head into his arms, his shoulders shaking silently. Elise spurred Prince toward him in the hollow. Before Prince fully stopped, she slid out of her saddle and rushed to the lad. Terrified, he shrank from her.