The Stranger She Married

by Donna Hatch

  Horses, for one. He had searched all over Ireland and found a promising new thoroughbred he hoped to enter in the next derby. Since then, he had only visited home long enough to check on the stallion's progress and consult with the trainer and jockey. The emptiness of his childhood home, once so full of joy and love, mocked him, and he always quickly left again, preferring London, or the homes of his numerous relatives. But this time, home beckoned to him.

  If only Alicia had agreed to marry him.

  The future lurked, uncertain. He had watched Alicia, unbeknownst to her, as she married a masked stranger. She stood white-faced and trembling in fear, trying so hard to be brave. How he longed to comfort her, to reassure her!

  But she had rejected him on every level.

  He left the pool and followed the stream through a thickening stand of trees, wondering if he would ever rid himself of this mad, burning desire for the girl with soft, gold-brown eyes who hated him no matter how hard he tried to win her affection. The night he found her fleeing Mr. Braxton, she had cried in his arms and snuggled against his chest before she remembered herself and pushed away. Having her in his arms, however briefly, stirred an unfamiliar sense of belonging. He ached to hold her again.

  A taunting dream.

  But there were moments when she seemed to have forgiven him, or at least forgotten her abhorrence. At the race course, she chatted with him amiably and laughed with abandon. There were other times that she looked at him with shy, innocent desire. At first, he thought he had merely imagined those moments, but they continued to happen with some regularity.

  Although there had been no question of her feelings when she'd soundly refused his proposal. He did not entertain any delusions that Alicia's rejection stemmed from a fear of social ramifications a scandalous elopement would bring. No. It came from her hatred of her brother's killer. When faced with a masked, scarred cripple as her only alternative, still, she had rejected Cole.

  He wasn't surprised. But it hurt. Deeply. Much more than he had expected.

  He didn't blame her. He couldn't. Anyone astute enough to see beneath his pleasing façade would see the monster lurking below and shrink in fear. Shooting Armand had only been one in a long list of sins.

  Her new husband would never hurt her, and even if she didn't know it, she was safe.

  But was Cole safe?

  He desperately hoped that this would not prove to be the gravest mistake of his life.

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  CHAPTER 16

  Alicia and her husband traveled slowly, stopping to eat and stay at inns along the way. They spoke occasionally, and though their conversation was forced and awkward, he treated her with courtesy, his voice soft and muffled by the mask. Each night, the baron escorted her to her room, kissed her cheek and left her alone.

  As they traveled through the heart of Northumbria, the baron straightened in the seat across from her. “We're home."

  They pulled off the main road onto a long driveway lined with towering trees. The trees parted, revealing an enormous castle, situated upon a slight rise, commanding an impressive view. They drove across a bridge spanning a murmuring creek and pulled up in front of the castle.

  As they alit from the carriage, Alicia caught herself staring at the castle that graced the countryside. This would be her home?

  The baron tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her slowly up the stairs. She looked down at his feet and his cane, wondered if walking up stairs hurt him.

  They paused inside. The baron's estate was a far grander place than even Catherine's home. The wide, main hallway boasted marble columns and floors that had been scrubbed to a mirror-like luster. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling and crystal sconces lined the room. Tapestries and paintings hung from the walls, and a mural of angels and cherubs frolicking among the clouds adorned the ceiling. Two grand, sweeping staircases led upstairs on either side of the curved entry way. Elegant, intricately carved and richly upholstered furniture promised comfort. The splendor took her breath away.

  "It's magnificent,” she breathed.

  "I'd hoped you would be pleased."

  Servants lined the entryway, and her husband introduced her to the head housekeeper, Mrs. Hodges.

  After Alicia had met all the other servants, Mrs. Hodges beckoned to her. “Come, my lady, I will show you to your room. You must be most fatigued by your long journey."

  The baron bowed to Alicia. “I will leave you to become settled."

  Alicia followed Mrs. Hodges up the staircase as it curved around to the second floor, stepping on lush, thick carpet, and holding on to a banister as intricately carved as the pillars and molding. All the tall, sparkling clean windows had their draperies firmly pulled back to let in the bright afternoon sunlight. Magnificent portraits lined the hallways.

  Mrs. Hodges showed her to a room near the end of the hall and motioned to the door next to it. “That room belongs to the baron. Here is yours."

  She opened the door, revealing an enormous boudoir with an adjoining sitting room. Through another door Alicia found the dressing room. The furniture and wallpaper had a subtle French flavor in soft greens. It felt serene and restful. Everything had been scrupulously cleaned and polished. Even the wood shone like glass.

  "It's beautiful,” she said in awe.

  Mrs. Hodges looked pleased. “We will be happy to redecorate it or refurnish it to suit your taste. Lord Amesbury ordered me to spare no expense making you feel at home. I'll send in your abigail to help you change."

  Two footmen lugged in her chest and set it near an enormous clothes press in her dressing room. They bowed to her and retreated. Mrs. Hodges left Alicia to look over her new surroundings. A beautiful watercolor painting of a landscape hung from one wall signed ‘Christian Amesbury.’ A relative, perhaps? On the opposite wall, tall windows framed a view of breathtaking gardens extending to the horizon.

  "Madame? Are you ready to change?” asked Monique in French as she stepped inside the open doorway. Because Alicia had grown up speaking French with her mother, she and Monique often conversed in that language.

  "Oui, Monique, merci."

  Monique opened the clothes press. Inside were several gowns.

  "For you, madame,” Monique beamed. “A whole new wardrobe. And look.” She opened a jewelry case lined in black velvet. Several pieces of fine jewelry lay inside, clearly precious family heirlooms. Alicia lifted a diamond and ruby brooch, admired it, and then on a whim, turned it over. On the back was an inscription, "To my beloved Anne. Bound forever by love."

  Overwhelmed, Alicia folded both hands over the brooch and hugged it to her chest. She'd dreamed of one day finding a love such as this. That dream had faded.

  "Ah! Magnifique!” Monique exclaimed, admiring the jewels still lying inside the case. “You are most fortunate, madame, that your husband is so generous."

  "Yes, he certainly is generous."

  Her husband had already proved to be more kind and thoughtful than she ever anticipated. In many ways. She hung her head. And she had repaid him with fear and rejection.

  "Come, we must prepare you for dinner."

  Alicia bathed, changed and sat at a dressing table while Monique arranged her hair. Mrs. Hodges announced that dinner was ready and that Lord Amesbury would be with her shortly thereafter. The tightness in Alicia's chest, which had eased as she explored her new boudoir, returned at the mention of her husband. She fidgeted with her wedding ring.

  Mrs. Hodges gave her a sympathetic smile. “I know he must seem overwhelming, even frightening, but your husband is a good and kind man. As a youth, he was mischievous and energetic, but he always had a good heart. He has suffered many losses, but the time that I have spent with him since his return from the war has assured me that he isn't all that different."

  "Then you have been with the family long?"

  "Oh, my goodness, yes. Why, I knew his mother as a new bride. Saw her through the birth of her children and watched
them grow. A delightful family. I loved them like my own."

  Timidly, Alicia eyed her. “Is he that badly scarred?"

  Mrs. Hodges smiled sadly. “He won't allow any of the servants to see his face, but don't let that frighten you.” She patted her arm. “I think if you give him a chance, you will discover that the man behind the mask is everything a woman could wish for in a husband."

  He might give her everything money would buy, but she doubted he could give her anything else.

  They went into a breakfast room off of the kitchen. “This is where the family usually dined when they weren't entertaining. The grand dining room is on the next floor."

  Mrs. Hodges served her in the warm and friendly room. It was a place where children would feel welcome. “Lord Amesbury takes his meals in privacy so that he can remove the mask. He sends his apologies at requiring you to dine alone but he will join you shortly."

  Alicia was unsurprised. He'd done the same during their trip. Despite her apprehensions, she found that her appetite had returned and she devoured the delicious food. There was such a tremendous variety, and all so beautifully prepared, that she wanted to sample everything.

  After she had finished, she sat sipping her tea, comfortably full. She heard the soft thumping of a cane and heavy footfalls outside the room. As the sounds approached, Alicia set down her teacup and sat up straight, her heart beginning a low thud. Despite traveling with him over these past few days, his presence never failed to instill fear. His large form appeared in the doorway and he thumped his way toward her.

  "I hope you enjoyed your dinner,” his soft voice rasped.

  Alicia swallowed and found her voice. “Yes, very much, thank you.” She nervously fingered the locket around her neck.

  "I brought my cook with me from Versailles. I told him I was in love with his cooking and that I should pine away and grow thin if he didn't come cook for me."

  In spite of herself, Alicia felt her mouth curve. “I can see why you wanted to keep him."

  "I thought you might enjoy a brief walk in the garden before you retire?"

  "I would, thank you, my lord."

  A clear, moonlit night greeted them as they strolled along the walkway in the garden. Insects sang and a light breeze brought the mingled scent of flowers.

  "In my youth, the gardens became forests that hid wild beasts, and ferocious dragons that deserved to be slain. That tree,” he indicated a cypress, “served as my castle where I looked out for approaching enemy soldiers. I often played a black knight and attacked my sisters, much to their dismay."

  Alicia offered a polite smile.

  They stopped at the edge of a small lake, its shimmering surface reflecting, with barely a ripple, the silver and white moon. A night bird cried, soaring overhead, and insects sang.

  "That lake became Loch Ness where I battled its fearsome beast repeatedly. I always defeated it, but somehow, it returned another day to terrorize our fair kingdom again. Even after I went away to school, I loved coming back here to challenge the beast again."

  When he began walking, Alicia matched his unsteady pace.

  "Tomorrow, if you wish, I will give you a tour of the gardens. My great, great, grandfather designed it based on Greek mythology, and each generation has added to it. There's even a maze in the middle, my grandfather's addition. He was a second son and had no hope of inheriting, but when his oldest brother failed to marry and produce an heir, the title fell to him. He determined to make his mark in the family history."

  A nightingale sang in the distance and a light breeze stirred her skirts. The lake mirrored the star-dotted sky. She remained silent.

  "I understand your family is quite old as well. If I recall correctly, your great uncle was a marquis?” he asked.

  "Great, great uncle,” she corrected. With growing courage, she added; “My father's father was a third son. He had our manor constructed. The one that belongs to my Uncle Willard now.” A faint resentment flared, but she quieted it.

  He gestured off to the right. “The stables are beyond those trees. Do you ride?"

  "Not well. My mother was an excellent horsewoman, but I never became competent."

  After concluding their walk, he led her inside to a comfortable study decorated with deep greens and rich browns. It smelled of leather and wood polish. Though the fireplace stood black in the warm summer night, several lamps had been lit, giving the room a cheerful illumination.

  Her eyes fell upon a chessboard set up at a small teakwood table. “Do you play chess, my lord?"

  His breath expelled slightly and she imagined a smile underneath the mask. “My father tried to teach me, but there were fish to catch, lakes to swim in, fencing, riding, shooting, boyish mischief that I shall not disclose ... well, I am sure you understand. I never developed the skills to be truly competitive at chess."

  "I occasionally played with Papa on winter evenings."

  "Then will you accept my challenge?"

  "Very well.” Anything to prevent their first night in his home where he would no doubt insist upon becoming her husband in every way.

  She sank weakly into a chair. They began politely, but as the match progressed, Alicia forgot her fears and played with more vigor, and he proved a worthy opponent. While he clearly had not played often, he still had a fine eye for strategy. Growing confident, she played without mercy. Perhaps beating one's husband their first night in their new home may be bad form, but Alicia suspected if she threw the game, he would be offended.

  She glanced up at him with a mixture of timidity and triumph. “Checkmate."

  He leaned back. “Yes. You were kind. I am sure you could have taken me several times, but did not.” He did not sound angry, but he always spoke so softly, it was hard to know for sure.

  Growing bolder, she said, “You tease me, my lord. You play much better than you led me to believe."

  "I hope to be full of pleasant surprises."

  The mantle clock chimed. Alicia twisted the ring around her finger.

  He rose. “It grows late. Perhaps we should retire."

  Her eyes flew to his face, but the mask revealed nothing of his meaning or intentions. With a slight quiver, she allowed him to escort her to her room. Along the way, his gloved hand indicated a painting of a sharp-eyed woman in scarlet who looked back with bold disdain.

  They paused in front of her. “That was my great aunt Millicent. She ran away from home and traveled all over Africa dressed as a man."

  In surprise, Alicia gasped and then laughed softly. Further down the hall, he pointed out another portrait of a gentleman wearing a ruffled collar and a large ruby ring.

  "That was my grandfather. He scandalized the ton by marrying his mistress. They never had children. Later, when she died, he married a proper lady, who bore him three sons, but he never loved her as he loved his first wife."

  "What an unconventional family you have, my lord."

  "We do seem to take delight in thumbing our noses at society.” His hand moved to the small of her back.

  She froze.

  He noticed. “Shall I never earn your trust, Alicia?"

  A chill settled in her stomach at the thought of this dark, hidden creature touching her in the same manner as Mr. Braxton. She wondered how she could ever willingly submit to such advances. She couldn't bring herself to look at the hulking figure before her while images of scarred, twisted skin flashed before her eyes. Would his skin be cold and lifeless? Would he be rough? Did he even have any feeling in his limbs?

  "As I said, I shall wait until you are ready. I...” he paused as if trying to form his thoughts into words. “Despite my appearance, I am a whole man and have the needs of any man."

  Guilt wormed through her fear. “I thank you for your understanding, my lord."

  He remained motionless for several minutes, his gaze tangible underneath his mask. When he moved, it was only to brush a smothered kiss against her cheek and then turn and walk away with his cane thumping slightly.
/>   Alicia threw herself into her pillow and sobbed her relief. And her dread of things to come.

  * * * *

  "This garden was patterned after the stories of Athena, the goddess of war, but I saw only a forest peopled by gnomes and dark caves where dragons guarded their treasure."

  Sparkling streams graced the lush gardens filled with flowers of every description. The baron led her through an arch to a new garden. Marble statues adorned the pathways, and stone benches carved with winged cherubs dotted the path.

  "This is the garden of Aphrodite, the goddess of love. I stole my first kiss under this tree.” Embarrassment colored his voice.

  Alicia tried to picture a young Lord Amesbury, but only created a smaller masked figure.

  In the garden of Poseidon filled with meandering streams, waterfalls, and fountains, a picnic luncheon awaited them. A small cascade fell into a pond filled with colorful fish. As servants laid out the meal, he held a chair for her at the small wrought iron table under a spreading tree.

  "I thought this would be a good place to have our luncheon."

  "It is indeed a beautiful place,” she breathed. “Each garden you've shown me has been more wondrous than the last."

  "I'm glad you like it."

  Emboldened by the pleasant morning, she asked, “Do you have a favorite Greek hero or story?"

  He paused a moment. “I've always been partial to Perseus."

  "Why?"

  "He had many enemies who conspired against him, but he was resourceful. He always managed to do what he felt he must despite the seemingly insurmountable obstacles he faced."

  Alicia knew little about mythology, but this name seemed familiar. “Isn't he the one who killed the creature with snakes for hair and whose gaze would turn a person to stone?"

  "Medusa. Yes. He also defeated other fearsome foes."

  "Is there a garden for him, yet?"

  "No."

  "Perhaps that will be yours to build."

  He paused. “Perhaps. That remains to be seen."