The Stranger She Married (31 page)

Despite his state of undress, Alicia kept her gaze fixed unflinchingly on his face.

"Well done,” came a lazy, deep voice from behind her. “You've managed to wake the dead, I see.” Cole leaned against the doorframe, dangerous and handsome.

Robert glared at them both. “What are you doing here, Amesbury?"

"I escorted your cousin to your death bed, as it were.” Cole's grin spread slowly over his face. “Come Alicia, let's give the man some privacy now that he is back among the living."

"Have you a valet yet?” Alicia asked Robert.

Robert's glare deepened. “No. I am having difficulty persuading anyone to come work for me. Respected gentlemen's gentlemen seem to think we are a disreputable lot, what with forcing our family members to marry masked monsters to save ourselves from debtor's prison.” He muttered another curse and pushed his wet hair out of his eyes.

"No matter. I shall send mine in to aid you with bathing and shaving,” Cole said.

When Robert began to protest, Alicia added, “You certainly look as if you've been dead and buried. And you smell the part as well. Let his valet work his magic on you. I shall expect you for dinner, since you are obviously not going to be able to join us for tea.” She eyed him in disapproval.

"Vindictive wench,” Robert grumbled.

Alicia smiled sweetly at him and left the room. She, Hannah, and Cole enjoyed sandwiches and cakes with their tea and chatted about nonsensical things. Hannah looked dreadful. She even appeared to be losing her hair. Alarm took root and grew quickly. Perhaps she should bring Hannah home with her. But would her fear of the baron hinder a recovery?

Hannah went to lie down again in the hopes of taming a headache. After Hannah left, Alicia gave in to the desire to confide in Cole about a suspicion that had begun to take grow.

"Poor Hannah. I've never seen her so ill. And I also fear for Robert."

His eyes flicked to her in interest, but his expression revealed nothing of his thoughts. “That he'll drink himself to death?"

"That, too. But I fear that Armand's death was not coincidental. Please don't discount my words for the ravings of an overactive imagination, or a hysterical female, but I can't help but wonder if someone has arranged all these ‘accidents’ that have beset my family."

Cole's expression never flickered. “What do you suspect?"

"Armand's wound was superficial. You said when you visited him, you were informed that his injury was not life-threatening, no worse than the one you received from the highwaymen. Yet, he grew very ill, so badly that his arm had to be amputated as the sickness spread. And I know that even small wounds can sicken and become ultimately fatal, but it seems too coincidental when I consider the rest. Then he developed that addiction as a necessity to help him deal with the pain. What's odd is that he was trying to cut back and eventually quit. So when I found him...” she struggled a moment before she continued, “it was such a shock...” she had to stop again. “And we must consider the accident that took my parents."

She rose and began to pace. “The carriage was relatively new and yet, the tongue broke, which caused the driver to lose control. We went off the road where the highway runs along the side of a hill. I watched as we traveled here, and that only happens in one place, and for only a few miles. But that happened to be where the carriage broke. No one survived, except me, and I was unconscious for days. I might have been left for dead."

Cole watched her attentively but his face remained inscrutable.

"There's more. I hadn't thought it significant until now, but my mother had a bad fall when she was out riding only a few weeks before your duel with Armand. She was an excellent rider and had not fallen in years. The cause appeared to be a worn strap to her saddle, but I am beginning to suspect that it was cut cleverly enough to not appear deliberate."

Cole's eyes widened.

"And a few months ago before I married the baron, a poisonous snake lay in my path where I always walk. It bit me. The gamekeeper told me later that kind of snake is normally afraid of people. Also, it usually stays deeper in the forest. There is some bracken in the stand of trees where I was walking, but it seems odd that an adder had come so close to the formal gardens. And you may not know this, but my bed caught on fire only weeks after I married the baron."

"I did know,” he said in a strangled voice.

"Then there was that odd highwayman attack. And now my Uncle Willard is dead. Doesn't that all strike you as remarkably strange? Beyond coincidental?"

His expression grim, he nodded. “Quite suspicious."

"Then you believe me?"

He paused and carefully wiped his fingers on a napkin. “Yes. I had already come to the same conclusion. Hearing of your mother's riding mishap, and the details of the carriage accident, only confirms it. Nicholas and I have spoken and his servants have all been keeping you under guard."

"I have no idea who would want to kill any of us, much less all of us, or why. A magistrate would likely try to place the blame on someone within the family. Which leaves few obvious suspects. Robert. Hannah. Or me."

"I think we can safely eliminate you.” Amusement touched his mouth. “And no one in their right mind would believe it of Hannah."

She gasped. “You can't believe Robert is responsible."

"You said he was the most likely suspect."

Frowning, Alicia continued to pace. “Yes, but I've known Robert all my life, and he has never shown any signs of violent behavior. He doesn't even have a bad temper. Besides, what possible motive would he have?"

"I can't explain why anyone would want you or your mother dead, but Robert might have wanted to eliminate your father and brother so he could eventually inherit their lands. His father squandered all the money on dubious business investments and excessive gambling once before. Perhaps now that the debts have been cleared, Robert feared there might be nothing left for him to inherit except for another mountain of debt if he waited for his father to die of old age."

"An investigator might have the same suspicions. That's why I don't want to go to one of them."

"I already have,” Cole said.

She stared at him, her heart stalling. “What?"

"My duel with Armand was arranged. Vivian, the woman we dueled over, confessed someone paid her to coerce us into dueling. And Armand's consequent death was too sudden. He was murdered. Clearly, Willard's death is too coincidental to be a mere robbery gone bad. Someone is trying to kill everyone in your family. We need help uncovering the plot before it's too late. You or Hannah might be next."

Anger flared through her. “You went to a Bow Street Runner?"

"Not a Runner, but someone I trust to learn the truth. He will give this his full attention."

She stared at him, her fury mounting. “You have no right to interfere with family matters!"

"I am involved. Someone manipulated me. I was the one who pulled the trigger that made Armand's death too conveniently arranged."

Alicia flinched at an image of a deadly calm Cole firing a pistol at her twin, watching him crumple, blood spewing from his arm. “You still have no right to go to the authorities without my knowledge.” Her voice rose in both pitch and volume.

"I have every right!” Uncharacteristic anger gave volume to his words and he leaped to his feet. “If someone is murdering everyone in your family, then you might be the next target. The killer already tried more than once. I have a responsibility toward you and I'm not going to let someone murder you."

A responsibility? That's all she was to him? That explained much. His kindness, his protectiveness, stemmed not from his feelings for her, but a result of feeling responsible for the sister of a man he'd dueled. She shouldn't be surprised. He'd said as much when he'd proposed to her before she married Nicholas.

His words at the ball had been a lie. A means to seduce her.

Tears sprang to her eyes. “I'm not your responsibility. Now that I am married, that burden has passed from you to my husband. He should be here looking after me, not you. If he cared, he would be."

His legs devoured the space between them and he grabbed her by the shoulders, his face only inches away from her. “If you gave him reason to care, he might!"

Alicia's hand flew of its own will and the resounding slap echoed in the room. Stunned by her own action, she felt the blood drain out of her face.

Cole blinked at her in astonishment. He pressed his lips into a thin white line as the red mark on his cheek became more visible every second. His face hardened into granite.

Alicia put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, Cole, I'm—"

"Don't.” He shoved her away and left the room. Seconds later, the front door slammed.

Alicia went to the window and watched him sprint athletically around the side of the house.

"How long have you been in love with him?"

Alicia whirled around to see Robert leaning against the doorway. Bathed, shaven and dressed as impeccably as Cole, thanks to Stephens's care, Robert appeared clear-eyed and sober, but the grief he bore weighed upon him. Losing Armand and his father in less than two years must be difficult to bear. Alicia understood all too well.

Alicia sighed. “What gave you that ridiculous notion?"

"Only lovers fight like that."

"I am
not
his lover!"

"Perhaps not in body, but you are in love with him.” His head nodded toward the window.

Alicia glanced over her shoulder to see Cole, astride his favorite white horse, André, galloping away from the house. She turned back to Robert. “I am not. I could never love that ... that...” At his look of sympathy, she gritted, “Be silent, you fool.” She brushed past him, stormed up the stairs without aplomb, and slammed her door.

Dinner was a silent affair. Cole ate dutifully, barely tasting the fare and trying to ignore the hollowness in a place food would never touch. He glanced at Alicia. Her posture rigid, her eyes downcast, she merely pushed her food around her plate. He couldn't believe she'd slapped him. He never would have believed it of her. Her hatred must run deep. He was fast losing hope that she'd ever forgive him, much less care for him.

Robert drank more than he ate, but he still seemed to notice his guests’ lack of enthusiasm over dinner. “Cook's meal not to your liking, cousin? My lord?"

Alicia raised her head. “It's fine."

"It's very good,” Cole said.

Alicia rallied. “I'm sure it tastes better when your palate hasn't been numbed by strong drinks, Robbie.” Forced levity colored Alicia's voice.

Wearing a half-smile, Robert saluted her with a glass of wine. “My Lord Amesbury, after dinner, can I interest you in a game of chess? The billiards table, among other things, was seized months ago, I'm afraid."

Robert's frankness and unabashed admission at his period of poverty surprised Cole.

"My man of business tells me I need to make a few more prudent investments before I start refurnishing or redecorating the place. I feel like I live in a monastery with such Spartan furnishings. Despite the baron's best efforts, Father didn't leave me with much...” His voice trailed off and stark grief crossed his features. He emptied his wine glass.

"I enjoy chess,” Cole replied easily. At least, he hoped it sounded easy.

After dinner, they sat down together across the chess board. Alicia flitted about the room before finally settling down in a chair by the window.

"It's raining,” she commented dully.

Dobbs knocked and delivered a missive to Alicia.

"Thank you, Dobbs.” She frowned at the seal on the envelope. “It's from Lord Amesbury. Ah, I mean, my husband. Nicholas."

She had probably added the last for his benefit, due to his comment about her never using her husband's Christian name. She broke the seal and opened the letter.

"He's coming. He apologized for his absence but he will arrive shortly. That was thoughtful.” Her voice betrayed her lack of enthusiasm.

Cole nodded slowly. Robert watched him curiously, an eyebrow raising and his eyes flicked between Cole and Alicia as if awaiting reactions.

Keeping his face devoid of expression, Cole said, “Then I will take my leave as soon as he arrives."

Alicia straightened. “You're leaving?"

"As you said. It is for your husband to look after you. Not me. I will remain to watch over you until he can take over that duty. I have responsibilities elsewhere."

And if the person who wanted the Palmers dead thought they were only guarded by a few elderly servants and a cripple who couldn't even sit a horse, then all the better. The murderer would attempt to strike when he perceived them most vulnerable. Cole would remain hidden and could protect them better. He'd sent a letter by express courier to Grant, telling him of the events Alicia had revealed. Perhaps it would help with the investigation.

"Check.” Robert grinned at him.

Cole snatched his thoughts back to the game. He countered and tried to clear his mind, but his whole body thrummed with awareness. Alicia remained tantalizingly close and yet, more out of reach than ever. She resumed her pacing, the firelight and shadows playing hide and seek with her soft, womanly contours.

"Check."

Blast! Focus, Amesbury.

He countered again. Alicia carefully folded the letter and rewrapped it in the envelope.

"Checkmate."

With a sound of disgust, Cole pushed away from the table. “Forgive me for not providing much sport. You played very well, Robert. And now, I believe I will retire."

They said their good nights and he headed upstairs, weary deep in his soul. He felt her presence behind him in the hallway.

"Cole."

He froze. Alicia's voice, gentle, full of regret, nearly undid him. She did not speak until she came within arm's reach. He folded his hands together behind his back and looked down at her lovely, guileless face. With childlike vulnerability, her eyes probed his.

"I'm sorry. My action was uncalled for. I can't believe I slapped you. Please accept my apology."

"Apology accepted,” he replied more abruptly than he meant.