The Stranger She Married (3 page)

"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.

What was she thinking? She came from the impoverished gentry, without a respectable dowry, and her family was quickly losing acceptance in society. A man of Lord Amesbury's ilk would never wed someone like her.

And yet, his eyes held a gleam suggesting he might be interested in her at some level. That gleam should have frightened her, but instead only quickened her pulse. She pushed harder, and he released her. Slowly.

"We should go in separately so people will not think my behavior unseemly, my lord."

The curves of his mouth softened and the gleam deepened. “Fear not, my lady, I shall declare my honorable intentions as your protector to your vigilant chaperone."

"It's not only Mrs. Hancock that concerns me."

"Then I shall call out anyone who dares to question your purity."

Startled, she stared at him, but his features revealed nothing of his true thoughts. She hoped he merely jested about calling anyone out. Dueling, while illegal, happened far too frequently. It had been the cause of her brother's maiming which led to his untimely demise.

She missed her twin, Armand, with a pain that eclipsed even the loss of her parents. Some days, she might never have gotten out of bed were it not for her younger sister, Hannah.

Her troubles lay squarely upon the shoulders of that dueling fiend. If not for him, her twin brother would still be alive. Her parents might even still live. Then she would not be in this dilemma of needing to marry for money. Even when her father lived, they were not considered wealthy, but she had never been tempted to seek out a husband merely because of his riches. She had always despised fortune hunters, and to be forced into their class seemed a fate too humiliating to bear.

Aware of his probing stare, she moistened her lips. “Still, I must guard my reputation."

"In this crush, we will not be seen entering together, I assure you."

She glanced up at him, curious at his insistence. Could he be so chivalrous that he now saw himself as her protector? She smiled to herself. Her silly romantic notions had little to do with real people. Lord Amesbury, however kind he seemed, had no reason to protect a plain, penniless orphan. Still, walking on his arm gave her the absurd urge to preen. He escorted her to Mrs. Hancock who sat gossiping with the dowagers.

"There you are my dear, I nearly sent someone in search of you.” When she noticed Lord Amesbury standing next to Alicia, her eyes narrowed in concern.

"Forgive us for alarming you, Mrs. Hancock,” Lord Amesbury said smoothly. “Miss Palmer felt the need for some air and I insisted upon escorting her to protect her from any unsavory characters that may be about.” The disarming smile he turned upon Mrs. Hancock would have transformed stone to mush.

Mrs. Hancock actually blushed. “Oh, of course. How kind, Lord Amesbury."

Alicia smothered a smile. Who would have thought this sensible lady would fall for the charms of a gentleman? But as she let her eyes rest upon him, she wondered how long she would retain a hold over her own sensibilities if he actually tempted her to discard them.

A young man with serious dark eyes approached and bowed, preventing further conversation with Lord Amesbury. “Miss Palmer."

She curtsied instinctively and then as she recognized him, a smile crept over her face. “Mr. Hawthorne? Is that you?"

He nodded. “It is. Only it's Captain Hawthorne, now."

"Oh, yes, I had heard. You have grown taller. How many years has it been?"

A faint grin curved his mouth. “I left for the peninsula eight years ago. You've grown up as well, and become quite lovely. May I have the honor of the next dance?"

Alicia accepted, knowing his flattery as only a polite gesture. She introduced him to Lord Amesbury, and then smiled back up at Mr. Hawthorne. He had grown broader and more handsome, but he'd always had those heavily-lashed, dark eyes. Something about him made her think of her father. Memories of her family, and the longing for them, dimmed her pleasure.

With a will, she pushed them aside and looked back up at Captain Hawthorne. “How is your father?"

His face closed. “Not well, I am afraid."

"I'm sorry to hear that. He and my father were friends years ago I believe, although I never knew him well. Please give him my best."

A strange light entered his dark eyes that gave her the insane desire to rub her arms.

"Yes,” he replied slowly. “I shall."

Elizabeth hurried to her on Mr. Wallace's arm. “Alicia, Lord Sinclair has offered to take a group of us on a tour of his gallery. Will you come with us? Captain Hawthorne and Lord Amesbury, you of course, are invited as well."

"I've seen it, and I'm afraid I don't have much of an eye for art.” Captain Hawthorne bowed to Alicia. “I shall await your return, Miss Palmer."

Alicia nodded. “Of course, Captain Hawthorne.” She turned to Lord Amesbury. “Lord Sinclair's gallery is rather extensive, I hear."

Lord Amesbury smiled again. Alicia had never met anyone who smiled so easily, or with such warmth. Odd, but moments ago, she'd had the distinct impression he secretly laughed at everyone. Now he seemed genuinely warm. Perhaps her first impression had been wrong.

"Then I would be remiss if I failed to view it,” Lord Amesbury replied graciously.