by Donna Hatch
Biting back an impolite response, Alicia offered what she hoped would be an apologetic smile. “Forgive me, Colonel.” She nearly choked on the words. “I would be pleased to take a turn about the garden with you. Appropriately chaperoned, of course. Would you excuse me, please? I believe Mrs. Hancock wants me."
The Colonel glared at her through his monocle.
Forcing herself to not run, Alicia curtseyed and wound her way through the revelers in search of Mrs. Hancock and Elizabeth. She had to remind herself to breathe. She had no desire to marry for money. She wanted to marry for love. Her parents had been in love; shouldn't she be granted the same privilege?
But, no. One well-placed bullet ripped from her everything she held dear.
Since the day Uncle Willard inherited her family estate, he stumbled through one business loss after another, gambled away what he didn't lose in unprofitable investments, and continued to spend as if he had the wealth of Midas, until they were nearly destitute. And worse, she had to face it without her best friend, her twin brother, the other half of her soul.
Alicia found Elizabeth and Mrs. Hancock speaking with Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick. Their stunning nephew, Lord Amesbury, stood with them. The light rippled across his rich, sable brown hair every time he turned his head. The chiseled planes of his face would be hard if he ever frowned, she decided, but his half-smile softened them. He seemed to view the evening's festivities as an amusing inconvenience, but made every attempt to be polite, if cool.
Mrs. Hancock beamed as Alicia reached her side. She put an arm around Alicia and brought her into their circle. “Miss Alicia Palmer, allow me to introduce Lord Amesbury."
Even more devastating up close, Lord Amesbury turned to her. His piercing blue eyes threatened the strength in her knees. Though taller than most ladies, Alicia still had to look up to meet his gaze. No other color existed in those eyes; no green or gray, only deep, dark blue, like the fathomless depths of the sea.
All the other men she had met lately, namely those her uncle insisted she consider for a husband, had taken careful note of her figure. But this gentleman only looked into her eyes. Very deeply.
Lord Amesbury inclined his head. “Miss Palmer.” His resonant, bass voice touched her very soul.
Alicia met his frank gaze and felt a stirring she did not quite understand. Breathing became a conscious effort. Mrs. Hancock discreetly coughed, and Alicia realized she'd been locked in eye contact with the Viscount much longer than appropriate.
Unable to pull her eyes away, Alicia sank into a curtsey. “My Lord."
No longer merely polite, his smile broadened, warmed, transforming an already handsome face into a perfectly stunning visage. Sensuality radiated off him, not in a manner that left her feeling threatened, but in a way that left her breathless for more. More of what, she did not know. But she wanted to find out.
"Miss Palmer, may I have the next dance?"
Alicia blinked. She looked back at Elizabeth who smiled encouragingly. Mrs. Hancock also smiled and nodded, but a touch of disappointment tainted her approval, reminding Alicia the dear lady had hoped her daughter would attract the attention of the very eligible Lord Amesbury. That he'd singled out Alicia seemed a dream.
She squelched all hope that she might hold his interest. Surely only politeness motivated him to dance with the plainest girl first. He'd soon turn his attention to the beautiful ladies.
Finding her voice, Alicia replied, “Thank you, Lord Amesbury. I would be honored."
As the final notes of the current dance ended and the next began, Lord Amesbury offered his arm. She took it, an unfamiliar quiver beginning in her stomach. The art of dancing, she found as the set began, had not abandoned her as completely as her wits. The handsome viscount danced with athletic grace, his attention focused upon her. The warmth of his hand seeped through their kidskin gloves. He held her gently, firmly.
A playful glint touched his sapphire eyes. “I must warn you. Now that we've danced, my aunt will take it upon herself to ask you your opinion of me. She will most certainly interrogate me regarding you."
She met those probing eyes and felt her mouth curve. “Oh? Is she your self-proclaimed matchmaker?"
A wry smile touched his lips. “Of course. I'm thirty and not yet married. She feels it her duty to ensure I produce an heir before I'm too old. Despite my efforts, she persists."
Alicia nodded, her smile deepening at his indelicate statement. “That is a dilemma."
"Since you and I have only just met, it will be difficult to offer a fair assessment of your character. And if I say anything positive about you, she'll plan the wedding.” His smile brightened, lighting up his stunning face.
Alicia missed her step. Even while dancing with the very handsome Duke of Suttenberg two Seasons ago, she had never felt such a keen attraction for a man. She was nearly twenty, for heaven's sake, not a missish debutante!
"Your aunt is a strong woman and a kind lady, my lord."
"I suppose she possesses a good heart deep, deep down inside, but be truthful; she's sharp-tongued and outspoken."
She laughed and then clapped her hand over her mouth. “My Lord! She might hear you."
He chuckled. “Fear not. We needle each other as frequently as possible. I say worse things to her face. I enjoy watching her squirm and plot a counter-attack."
That reminded her of the playful banter she shared with her cousin Robert. “I don't recall her ever mentioning you, my lord."
His smile turned self-deprecating. “I'm one of those relations no one mentions."
She laughed softly. “You're teasing me."
"No, but I dare not shock you with all of my misadventures."
"She has mentioned a nephew named Christian."
"My youngest brother. Everyone loves him.” A touch of rancor colored his voice.
As the dance pattern repeated, Alicia saw Elizabeth dancing with a young gentleman, who smiled at her with an adoring gaze. “Will you honor my friend Elizabeth Hancock with a dance this evening, Lord Amesbury?"
He raised an eyebrow and his lips pulled in a sardonic smile. “On the rare occasion that I invite a lady to dance, she doesn't normally ask me to seek out another."
"I didn't mean it that way. I only meant that there are a number of ladies in attendance who love to dance, and there is a shortage of men. I hope you will seek out others. Especially those who do not have many partners."
Alicia always felt sorry for the wallflowers, herself having been one more frequently than she cared to admit. And the brief flash of envy in Mrs. Hancock's eyes when Lord Amesbury asked her instead of Elizabeth to dance tugged at her conscience.
He glanced briefly at Elizabeth before returning his focus to Alicia. “Miss Hancock does not appear to be at a loss at the moment."
His eyes fixed upon Alicia so intently that she saw images of him becoming her fairy-tale prince charming, battling her unwanted suitors, rescuing her family, and then carrying her off to his castle. Under his unusually direct gaze, she had the impression he knew her hopes and fears.
She swallowed. “Yes, Elizabeth is so lovely, she's seldom without admirers.” A wistful tone crept into her voice.
His mouth twitched in amusement. She wondered if he found her truly diverting or if he merely thought her silly. But there did not appear to be anything scornful or mocking in his eyes.
"And you want me to have a look at your friend since I'm so eligible?"
"Ah...” Those vivid eyes made thinking difficult.
"Do you find me more suitable for her than for you, Miss Palmer?"
Sickened that the handsome and charming viscount would see her for what she was, Alicia resigned herself to the truth and met his gaze fully. “She is more suitable for a man of your station than I, my lord."
His dark brows raised. “Why is that?"
She fortified her courage. “She's lovely and has a substantial dowry. I have little to offer a husband."
There. She had confessed. No
w her dream of this handsome gentleman rescuing her from all the undesirable men she must consider would come to an end.
A playful smile hovered at the corners of his mouth. “You are a fortune hunter?"
How quickly he cut to the truth! She could almost hear the crashing noises her sweet fantasy made as it fell. Biting her lip, she controlled the moisture that threatened her eyes.
"I am."
[Back to Table of Contents]
CHAPTER 2
Lord Amesbury's expression became guarded. “And why would you reveal that to a man with a fortune instead of merely pursuing him to attain your goal?"
Alicia looked away. “Because I don't want any misunderstanding. And I would never stand in the way of Elizabeth's happiness."
"If I told you I were a reprobate, would you still wish me to consider your friend?"
Her eyes flew to his. Was he needling her again? “No. If you were anything less than a perfect gentleman, then I certainly would not wish you anywhere near her."
He chuckled. “Then I promise to not only dance with your friend, but to conduct myself as a perfect gentleman at all times in her presence."
Alicia eyed him sharply, but his carefully honed façade revealed nothing about him that he did not wish to show. “Are you laughing at me, my lord?"
"No, Miss Palmer.” His smile grew gentle.
Gentleness? How many men possessed such a trait? Again, she had to fight tears of disappointment. She had found the man of her dreams, but he was as unattainable as a sunrise.
The dance set ended far too soon. As the viscount escorted her back toward Mrs. Hancock, Alicia heard Mrs. Hancock say as she leaned toward Elizabeth, “Don't worry, dearest. If you fail to secure Lord Amesbury, perhaps we can garner an introduction to one of his brothers. I hear the younger three are equally handsome. You could do worse than the younger son of one of the wealthiest and most respected earls in England."
Alicia's stomach twisted. She glanced up at Lord Amesbury beside her as they wormed their way through the crowd, but he showed no sign that he had overheard the conversation. She determined to draw Elizabeth and Mrs. Hancock aside and explain that she had no designs on Lord Amesbury. Or at least, no right to have any. Not only was he too far above her, she did not want to damage her friendship with Elizabeth.
Among the crowd, she spotted a thin man with silver hair and a widow's peak. The sight drove away all thoughts of Elizabeth. Her stomach dropped to her feet.
"Oh, no. Please excuse me, my lord."
"What is it, Miss Palmer?"
"I must not let him see me."
She fled through the throng toward the opened doors to the gardens. Outside, moonlight and Chinese lanterns illuminated the foliage. Couples strolled along the paths, their feet crunching on the gravel. She took a deep breath, the scent of roses and jasmine filling her senses, calming her fear. The stillness of the garden promised a welcome reprieve from the noise and crush in the ballroom.
Alicia crossed the balcony and descended the garden stairs to a wrought iron bench shadowed by an arbor. A nearby fountain trickled and splashed soothingly. A cool breeze stirred the tendrils around her face and neck. She took a calming breath. When she turned to glance back toward the doors, a broad, masculine chest blocked her view.
"Oh!” Surprised and alarmed, she took several steps back.
The dark form neared and the Chinese lantern overhead illuminated Lord Amesbury's face. “My apologies, Miss Palmer. I did not mean to startle you. From whom are you running?"
"Mr. Braxton."
Lord Amesbury glanced back. “No one is coming out, so you must have lost this Mr. Braxton. Why do you hide from him?"
She clasped her hands to still them. “My uncle would have me consider him as a suitor."
"One you do not wish to consider? Not wealthy enough?” A condemning tone entered his voice.
He must think her shallow and grasping. She was. That her uncle had forced her to such measures did not change who she had become. “He's very wealthy. That's the problem."
Lord Amesbury fixed a searching gaze upon her face as if he did not believe her.
"No one is coming outside?"
He looked toward the doors again. “Only a couple."
She released her nervous tension in a long exhale, still knowing her time in the garden only offered a brief escape from the men she wished to avoid. When had she become such a coward?
"I would be happy to act as your lookout, Miss Palmer, but I think you owe me an explanation."
She fingered the locket around her neck. “Something about him frightens me. He looks at me as if ... as if he has impure thoughts about me."
"You must be afraid of every man alive,” he replied dryly.
"Don't tease me, my lord. No honorable men have those thoughts. And no honorable men are interested in me. I'm merely a fortune hunter, remember?"
His expression thoughtful, he took a step closer. “I'm sorry to disillusion you, but even a saint would have impure thoughts about a beautiful woman."
With the light softly illuminating his handsome face, she again became acutely aware of him on an elemental level. The breadth of his chest and the bulk of his arms stirred images of physical strength and virility. His gaze intensified as he studied her. At that moment, she would have traded anything to have a man such as he consider her beautiful.
"Then, it's fortunate for me that I am not a beautiful woman,” she whispered breathlessly.
One of his brows twitched and he angled his head as he continued his penetrating gaze. She should step back. For that matter, she should not be out here with him alone, but the thought of risking a meeting with Mr. Braxton frightened her into remaining still. Or perhaps her motives centered around her present companion.
A lady and gentleman, their heads close together, laughed softly as they walked by without giving either Alicia or Lord Amesbury a glance.
That predatory image she'd first had when she saw him enter the ballroom returned. He seemed poised to pounce. Her heartbeat quickened, but not in fear. His hand reached toward her. Stepping back, she drew in a quick breath, alarmed at how alive she felt in his presence, and how badly she wanted to step closer to him, instead of safely, properly away.
His mouth twitched in amusement, and he seemed to consider. He withdrew his hand and merely indicated the locket she worried in her hand.
"Forgive me for alarming you. Your locket caught my eye. Someone special, I presume?"
She nodded.
"May I?"
She nodded again, releasing the locket, and tried to breathe as his dark head neared. She was a respectable young lady; she should not let him get so close. But somehow, she lacked the strength to resist his very forward, intimate action. He reached toward her as he had a moment ago. His fingers lightly touched her skin as he pick up the locket. She shivered at the touch, her senses reeling. He examined the tiny painting of Maman inside.
"My mother,” she explained.
"She's lovely. I see the resemblance.” He released the locket and it fell back into place.
A flash of memory assaulted her. She blinked, astonished at the intensity of emotion that swept over her. Time hadn't healed those wounds yet.
His hushed voice was almost a whisper. “Is she departed?"
"There was a ... carriage accident...” Her voice cracked. Alicia put a hand over her mouth and squeezed her eyes closed. She should have died with them. An image burst into her mind of an overturned carriage, the thrashing legs of horses, and the bodies...
"Miss Palmer?” His voice sounded so concerned that it nearly undid her again.
His glove felt warm on her arm. Alicia firmly clamped down on her emotions and opened her eyes. Lord Amesbury stood only a heartbeat away, gentleness in his face.
"I recently lost my mother, too. Her loss is killing my father.” For one brief moment, sorrow shadowed his eyes. Then he looked away and all expression closed over.
She wanted to step nearer
and put her arms around him, comfort him, tell him she understood. Her grief faded and a new, more foreign, more adult desire slipped into its place.
She swallowed. “I should return, my lord. Mrs. Hancock will wonder where I have gone. Thank you for your assistance."
He fixed her with an unreadable stare. “Why do I have the feeling I'm being dismissed?"
Uncertain what to make of his comment, she searched his face for clues but only got lost in its chiseled angles and curves. “I only meant that there are probably others with whom you wish to dance."
"Because you are not eligible for a man like me?"
If only she were. If only he wanted her. She glanced in the direction of the doors, but a rosebush obscured her view. “Is a man there looking as if he seeks someone?"
Lord Amesbury's gaze moved to the open doors again. “No. You're safe for the moment."
Alicia took his offered arm, and they went up the garden steps toward the ballroom while music wafted through the open doors. She missed her step but hardly had time to cry out before his free arm encircled her waist, steadying her. Their eyes met. With his face so near hers, she saw his eyes focus on her lips. Her heart began thumping against her chest so hard, she wondered if he could hear it.
Acutely aware of his presence and the danger of behaving unseemly, she put her hand against him and pressed lightly. His chest felt hard under her hand. She drew in a deep breath but it failed to steady her. Instead, it filled her with the scent of soap, linen and citrus, a curious combination of raw masculinity and civilized gentleman. Underneath it all, another scent lingered, something uniquely him.
"Thank you.” She laughed nervously but it sounded more like a hysterical giggle. She wanted to clap a hand over her face. “You appear to be making a habit of coming to my rescue. First my lookout, and now this."
A crooked grin quirked his mouth. “I hope I'm always present when you need rescuing."
Handsome, wealthy, and kind? This had to be a dream. Alicia had never believed in love at first sight, but she now understood what gave birth to the idea. If only she could transform into someone beautiful and poised, he might be interested in her.