Behind Your Eyes

by Susannah Woods

  To add to his anxiety, his wife had yet to conceive an heir. He had no idea where the problem lay. As far as he knew, he had never fathered a child. His current mistress had been with him for over eight years now. Before that, he never kept a mistress. He knew his mistress had ways of preventing conception. Surely most experienced women did. However, when a man and a woman married, it was to procreate. He had been with his wife for nearly ten years and no babies. Not one. This worried him a great deal. He needed an heir. Even though there might not be any money left to give to his son, it was his duty to pass on the title. After all, he was still the Duke of Barnsley, even in Louisiana.

  At present time, the Duke was enjoying a leisurely ride, unaware that he was being followed. Christopher followed behind his carriage in a hired hackney, careful not to give away his position.

  Inside his carriage, the Duke was contemplating his troubles, despite the fact he had just had a most agreeable afternoon with his mistress. The day was warm, with the possibility of imminent rain. As the coach rambled up the long drive of his plantation, Corbeau Rouge, the Duke came to a most important decision. He meant to speak to his wife about the absence of an heir. As soon as he entered the large plantation home, he called for his wife to meet him in his study.

  Pouring a measure of whiskey in his glass, he sat heavily in his favorite chair by the fire and waited for his wife.

  She entered thirty minutes later, defying his wishes to see her promptly. Instead of asking where she had been, he got to the point.

  “Louisa, why do we not have children?”

  With his back to her, he could not see her reaction to his question but he didn't look back or wait long in her silence.

  “Well...” he demanded.

  “I do not know why. God has a way of deciding these things,” she answered charmingly.

  This angered him.

  “Why would God not favor me with a son?”

  “I do not know, your Grace,” she said disdainfully. She only called him “your grace” to annoy him.

  “Maybe we need to try more often,” he decided.

  “Maybe,” she purred. “Maybe we should try right now.”

  “Do not be absurd. It is daylight. Now is not the appropriate time,” he reprimanded.

  “Of course, your Grace.”

  Since Barnsley did not turn around, he could not see the look of disdain on his wife's face. She left him there, the question of children left truly unanswered.

  He never seemed interested in her unless it was an appropriate time for him. She had tried to build a partnership, but he was not interested. In fact, he made it very plain he was not interested in that.

  Summoning a servant, Louisa, Duchess of Barnsley, prepared herself to go out. Now it was her turn to meet with a lover.

  ********

  Anne had tried to talk herself into a romantic fantasy for three weeks regarding her betrothed but she failed miserably. She needed it to keep her sanity. It was pictured clearly in her mind:

  She would spot him across the room and their eyes would meet. He would have a few women around him and they would be laughing and drinking champagne. But the moment they saw each other, all the other women would melt away and he would stride across the room to ask her to dance. Then they would dance and laugh all night and he would try to steal a kiss on the balcony at midnight. She would protest, but she would melt into his arms and submit. Then the reality would crash into her mind and her fantasy would turn into a nightmare. The nightmare where she finds out her husband is a reclusive criminal who married her for her money. The nightmare where she is left stranded in a loveless marriage forever. The nightmare where she is in a foreign land where nothing is familiar and she never sees her home again. The nightmare that would not go away. With that failure, something inside her snapped. Why should she even try to like him? Nobody told her to like him. They only told her to marry him.

  Anne stared out the window of the carriage restlessly, fidgeting again. It seemed as though they would never arrive at the Earl of Redbridge's townhouse. The trip had been short; they had merely come from Belgrave Square. But to Anne it seemed an eternity as the coach brought her ever closer to her fears.

  Finally, the coach slowed in front of Redbridge's Mayfair residence. Anne took her time, much as she would going to her execution, and half shuffled up the steps.

  A sturdy butler opened the door and they were ushered into a large room where Redbridge was waiting for them. Anne took note of the rich burgundy carpet, the deep blues of the curtains, the gold touches everywhere. Anything and everything except the man himself. Redbridge kissed Sophia's hand as introductions rounded the room. Then Anne had to meet his eyes as he took her hand.

  Pure emerald eyes studied her from an exotically dark face. Sensual lips kissed her knuckles gently. Tall, broad shoulders towered over her protectively. He was handsome as the devil. Oh God, Janey was right! His eyes sparkled and flattered her in a way she had never seen or felt before. She had pictured an ugly man, an old fool. This man is a rogue, a man who was devilishly handsome with the reputation to accompany it. This man had a wicked gleam in his eye. This is a man who would be shamelessly flirtatious and charm a woman right out of her stockings, literally and figuratively.

  Anne's stomach flip-flopped and her hand tingled where he touched it through her glove. Was that even possible?

  Anne schooled her emotions, determined not to get carried away. Just because her betrothed was handsome, didn't mean she was going to live happily ever after. Indeed, he was probably too handsome for his own good. In all probability, he had woman after woman in his bed. The thought brought shame to her cheeks and unwarranted jealousy to her heart.

  “Please, do sit down,” Alex invited. Anne sat on the couch with her mother; Alex on the seat opposite, Charles on the seat next to him. The tea was served as they settled in for a visit. The room was quite comfortable but Anne was determined not to fall prey to its luxuries. She was on a mission to hate her new fiance and she would find a reason today. Silence reigned for a brief moment.

  “I understand you are in the sugar business?” Sophia finally broke the awkwardness.

  “Yes. I grow sugarcane in the West Indies,” Alex confirmed.

  “What is it like there?” Sophia inquired, only half interested. Her mother was an intelligent woman, quite capable of understanding the world. She just was not interested. She would much rather gossip or speak of gardening or other things of interest to her.

  “Hot,” he replied after a moment's hesitation.

  Everyone laughed.

  “Well, it is actually quite beautiful there. The water is clear, the sky is bright. The colors are what grab me. England is so drab. There is no life here. Springtime certainly brings lovely blooms, but none such as you see on my plantation virtually year round. There, the colors in nature are so exuberant, it is beyond all reason. It is like no place else on earth.”

  “It sounds beautiful,” Anne sighed, then caught herself. Stop. Stop. Stop. You will not be seduced by a few frilly words.

  “Yes, it is,” he answered, looking at her intently.

  “Do you see the beauty in everything?” Anne challenged.

  “Yes, I do,” he smiled, staring pointedly at her.

  She blushed and smiled shyly in reply. How could she respond to that?

  Alex turned his attention to Sophia. “Mrs. Stafford, may I entice you two ladies to attend the theater with me later this week?”

  “We would be delighted, my lord,” Sophia answered.

  “Wonderful,” Alex said, taking a bite of a cucumber sandwich.

  Anne cared not for the theater. She wanted to know more about her potential new home and her future husband.

  “Tell me, my lord, about your sugar plantation,” Anne said, genuinely curious.

  “England is quite a stark contrast to the West Indies. As I said, the colors are brighter. The weather is much warmer. We have no winter. The wet heat can affect you if you are
not used to it. However, there is a lot of breeze that drifts over my island. Hmmm, maybe I should explain the sugar cane harvesting to you. Do you know anything about it?”

  “Only that sugar ends up in a bowl on the table,” Anne laughed in her ignorance.

  “First, the crops are burned to drive away any snakes that might be nearby. This also clears away any dead leaves. Using long knives, or machetes, we cut the stalks. Those stalks are processed there on the island. We make sugar, molasses, and rum for ourselves at the mill there. But most of the sugar we process is shipped here. We have to ship the raw sugar to a factory here in England for refining.”

  Why, he's nothing more than an elegant farmer, she thought, astonished.

  The quartet chatted a while longer, with Anne asking lots of questions about the plantation. He was enthusiastic about his home and his crop. Alex loved his land; it was evident in the way he spoke, like a little boy describing a new toy. The plantation was quite massive, it seemed. Too big for Anne, certainly. Her head swam anew with worry. Her betrothed was handsome and charming. And if she wasn't careful, he would charm her into blissful ignorance.

  Redbridge asked permission to take Anne on a ride the following day and Charles and Sophia accepted without Anne's permission. What else is new? Anne shuffled out of the townhouse with as much pride as she could muster. She was broken, a spirit with no will, no choice. Despite all of that, or maybe because of it, she was determined to hold onto any shred of power she had. Redbridge would never have her heart. No matter what, that would be hers forever.

  *********

  Many miles away in Louisiana, Chris was in a hurry to send a message to Alex. He had just found some very damning evidence against someone involved in Phillip's murder. After spending the night in the company of a very loquacious woman, he had found out a few things that Alex needed to know right away. He sent a trusted courier posthaste telling Alex to come home as soon as possible. This situation was more personal than Alex thought. Chris was on edge, ready to spill his secrets. Checking his watch, he noted it was still early. Plenty of time to book passage to Alex's island. He did not want to wait until tomorrow to leave, but he had no choice. Leaving the hovel he called home for the past six months, he headed to the docks. Blending in was so easy. After years serving His Majesty, Chris was used to different habitats. This one was getting a little ridiculous, even for him. Chris never saw the man behind him, never heard the footsteps, never caught the bludgeon before it hit him in the head. So much for all those years of training he thought before completely blacking out.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “When you meet true love, you will know. It was that way with your mother and me.”

  Alex watched his betrothed climb into her carriage and smiled. What a beautiful woman. Her orchid eyes intrigued him. Such an unusual color. Her curves fit her well. He had felt little stirrings of attraction the moment she walked in. Then her eyes had met his and he had never wanted to look away. He couldn't say that he even liked her but initial attraction was a good sign.

  He had to remember to thank Charles for this. When he had initially proposed this arrangement, Alex had refused. There was no way he was going to take a stranger for a bride.

  Three months ago, Charles had visited Alex's townhouse to see how his friend was doing. He had found Alex standing behind his desk, head bent over a file of papers. Alex had filled him in on Phillip's murder and his very short list of suspects. Then Charles had asked the one question Alex was not prepared for.

  “Are you planning to marry while you are here?” Charles asked.

  “I had not thought of that. I guess I was just a little busy trying to find my brother's

  murderer,” Alex replied sarcastically.

  “You will need a wife someday.” Charles continued, ignoring Alex's tone. “After all, you

  are an Earl now. It is your responsibility to marry and produce an heir,” Charles

  reminded him.

  Alex shrugged, “I suppose. I am sure I am capable finding a wife someday, Charles.

  I have too much on my mind to court anyone.”

  “It isn't that simple, Alex. I think you should marry. Soon. And I know just the young

  lady.”

  “Who?” Alex narrowed his eyes. He was sure he wasn't going to like this.

  “My cousin, Anne. She has never had a debut and she is still available. You two

  would make a fine match.”

  “Charles, this is a terrible idea. I don't know the first thing about your cousin,” Alex

  argued, exasperated by Charles' lack of forward-thinking.

  “But she is a lonely girl who needs someone to marry her and save her the

  embarrassment of coming out at her age,” Charles persuaded.

  “Just how old is she,” Alex's eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  “Twenty.”

  “No, Charles,” Alex shook his head, “I refuse to do this. She is not so old that you

  couldn't still find her a suitable match.”

  “If you marry her, I will give you some of my share in the business,” Charles

  persisted.

  “No. I am not prepared to marry right now. I have too much to think about and now

  is not the time to add a wife to my list.”

  “Anne is a levelheaded girl who can take care of herself. She won't need you to dote

  on her every second. She likes solitude,” Charles countered.

  Charles was a persuasive arguer but this was absurd. Alex did have morals.

  “What does your cousin have to say about his plan?”

  “She doesn't know.”

  “Charles!” Alex pushed away from his desk and shuffled to the fireplace behind

  him. He would never do this. He couldn't do this.

  “Alex, see reason. Think of your father, your brother. They wouldn't want the line

  to die out, would they?”

  Alex swung around and almost hit Charles.

  “Do not bring them into this discussion,” Alex warned, his jaw clenched, his fists

  bunched.

  Charles retreated, seeking a different tactic, “Alex, you are like family to me. My

  cousin is like my own sister. I'm asking you to help out the family.”

  Alex uncoiled and stalked to the window. How could he argue with that? He shook

  his head. It's still wrong. Maybe. I don't know her at all. She could be like Louisa.

  Or she could be completely different.

  It suddenly occurred to Alex that maybe Charles wasn't telling him the whole

  truth.

  “Charles, what is it you are not telling me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Are you in some kind of trouble?” Alex turned to see his friend look away.

  “No. I'm not in any kind of trouble.”

  Normally, Alex would take his word for it but the look on Charles' face spoke

  volumes.

  “You're lying,” Alex stated flatly.

  “Her mother wants her married. Now. It's not as if she wants Anne out of the way,

  she just wants her to have a rich, titled husband. Not so out-of-the-ordinary.”

  “Is she threatening you?”

  Charles looked up, surprise all over his face, “No. My aunt would never threaten me.

  She really is a good person. She wants the best for her daughters. I agree. I'm not in

  trouble. She...well....my aunt begged me. She's desperate.” Charles looked away again,

  a little pain touching his eyes. The image tugged at Alex's heart and he could see why

  Charles was pushing so hard.

  “Why me? You know plenty of eligible men,” Alex's voice was quiet again,

  softening to Charles' arguments.

  “You are the best man I know. I wouldn't trust my cousin to just anyone. I know you

  will be a good husband to her. I just want her taken care of. While my aunt is prone
/>   to theatrics, I know she has a good heart. Anne doesn't deserve to rot in spinsterhood,”

  he added, twisting the knife further into Alex's gut.

  Alex looked out the window, paused, and considered for a moment. If this went awry,

  he would kill Charles for it. And he would never forgive himself for listening to Charles

  in the first place. On the one hand, he could help his friend. On the other hand he could

  marry a shrew.

  “Alright, Charles. Let me meet her and court her a for a little while. If I find that we

  are suited, I will ask for her hand. If not, we will never speak of it again? Clear?”

  Charles nodded in triumph. Alex shook his head. He knew he was getting in over his head the moment he agreed to this stupid plan. Charles always had bad ideas but very good arguments. So he had no idea why he had been talked into one more thing he didn't want to do.