“Your brother and I have a marriage of convenience—”
“I know what my brother said.” Olivia sat down on a small sofa, her silk skirt draped becomingly around her. “But Dalton has never known love. Oh, there have been women.” Olivia drew her hand to her mouth. “Forgive me, my dear.” Her cheeks pinked becomingly. “I didn’t mean to shock you.”
Curiosity gave way to pretense. “I understand that Dalton and Elizabeth have…I believe he called it an understanding.”
“Posh! There was no understanding!” Olivia waved her hand. “I don’t know why, but Dalton abhors Elizabeth.” She smiled, showing dimples so like her brother. “I’ve always hoped that once Dalton finds love, it might mend what troubles him.”
Alicia looked up. “And what troubles your brother?”
Olivia shook her blond curls. “As long as I can remember, Dalton has been withdrawn, even among a crush of people. He so loved our father, and our uncle George. When Uncle George died in the war, I was too young to remember, but I think Dalton always missed him. Our father was gone a great deal. Last year, father died. We had already lost a brother.” Her voice trailed off. “So many sad things.” Olivia bit down on her lip, then sat up suddenly.
“Enough sad tales. It’s time we prepared for the ball.” She jumped to her feet. “Oh, Alicia. When the maids finish dressing you, you’ll be the most beautiful lady at the ball. We’ll begin by drawing your bath.”
Chapter Seven
B
y the time Dalton raced up the back stairs to his suite at Havencrest, it was well past midnight. He knew his mother would be furious that he had not been at her side to receive their guests, but his absence couldn’t be helped. He had to make certain that Elizabeth had left the ball by the time his engagement to Alicia would be announced.
He quashed an inner jolt of conscience when he remembered Elizabeth’s eager response, a short while ago, to his carefully worded invitation to meet him. He had felt like a scoundrel as he hid in the garden and watched her dash along the moonlit path on her way to the carriage house. He could almost see her face, flushed with anticipation to meet him secretly in his coach. A pang of guilt knifed through him as he imagined her shock and sense of betrayal when she found it was Justin who waited for her.
Damn, what choice did he have? Justin could be trusted to be discreet, and if everything went
according to plan, Elizabeth’s reputation wouldn’t be sullied.
But when the coach with Justin and Elizabeth had finally wheeled past with Ulger driving the spirited horses, Dalton had felt no sense of relief. If only she might forgive him some day. Dalton quelled another surge of conscience. He was entering into this deceit for Elizabeth’s own good, he reminded himself. This was the only way to protect her from the embarrassment of witnessing his engagement to Alicia. Now, if only the rest of his plan would go as smoothly.
When Dalton arrived in his suite, his evening clothes had already been laid out by his valet, who was now preparing Dalton’s bath. “Send word to my sister’s maid that I’ve just now returned, Ives.”
The valet lifted his head from the task of filling hot water into the copper tub. “Lady Olivia had requested that I ask the stable master to inform her as soon as your coach arrived, your grace. I took it upon myself to follow her instructions.”
“Excellent.” Dalton smiled, feeling a surge of relief. He was worried about Alicia, but no one was better suited to watch over her than his sister. No doubt Olivia was hovering over Alicia like a mother hen. This was one time he had to agree with his sister. The dowager and her cronies would make short work of Alicia if they had any inkling she would be attending the ball.
He strode to the rosewood desk and took out a sheet of stationery, then scribbled a note. “As soon as you’re through here, take this to Lady Alicia, and
make certain she receives it.” He folded the letter and sealed it with red wax, then placed it on the desk before undressing and stepping into the tub.
The steaming water lapped around his shoulders as he leaned back, inhaling the hint of sandalwood that Ives had poured into the bath. Without being told, his valet splashed brandy into a large crystal snifter and placed the drink on a silver tray on the sideboard within Dalton’s reach.
“Thank you, Ives,” he said, swirling the amber liquid, then inhaling the fruity bouquet. “Anything happen while I was gone?”
“This morning at breakfast, I heard Lord Templestone ask her ladyship if you would be dining this evening.” Ives picked up Dalton’s discarded riding clothes and hung them in the anteroom where a maid would later clean and press them.
Dalton felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Templestone was a widower—a bounder whose past marriages had made him wealthy. He took a sip of brandy. “What did my mother tell him?”
Ives had picked up one of Dalton’s boots and was brushing the mud from the leather. “I heard her say that you would be announcing your engagement at the ball this evening, your grace.”
Dalton’s mouth curled faintly. “What did Templestone say?”
Ives kept his gaze on his work. “He said that the day you announce your engagement, your grace, is the day pigs fly.”
Dalton chuckled. “Too bad I wasn’t there to see my mother’s reaction.”
Ives’s face conveyed no emotion. “Yes, your grace.”
Dalton wondered if Templestone would be leaving for Scotland with his mother’s friends. Then he reminded himself that it was none of his business. “That will be all, Ives. I’ll dress myself.”
“Yes, your grace.” Ives carried the riding boots under his arm and picked up the note for Alicia before he left the room.
I can’t go through with this!
Wrapped in a pink silk dressing gown, Alicia bit her inner lip and stared in the mirror at the pale image of herself. Marie, Olivia’s maid, had dressed Alicia’s hair in the latest fashion. She had drawn Alicia’s hair straight back, then pulled her thick, auburn curls atop her head in a coil secured by a rope of pearls.
Alicia’s brown eyes appeared gigantic in her small, oval face. She closed her eyes, her throat tight as the premonition of dread almost suffocated her.
I can’t go through with this. I can’t go through with this
, Alicia repeated as another roll of panic surged through her. She was a fool to have accepted Dalton’s proposal, and a bigger fool to think the ton wouldn’t have her tossed from the ballroom, like a mangy dog begging for scraps.
“Alicia, dear,” Olivia said as she glided into the room. She was dressed in a high-waisted blue chiffon gown that matched her eyes. Blue eyes so like Dalton’s.
Olivia clapped her hands when she saw Alicia. “Marie, you have outdone yourself!”
“Lady Alicia has hair that shines like polished silk,” Marie said in her lilting French accent.
“I can hardly wait to see Dalton’s face when he sees you.” Olivia swept her hand to her cheek. “Oh, before I forget, this message just arrived for you, Alicia. The groom instructed me to give it to you directly.” She handed the folded parchment to her with white-gloved hands.
Alicia took the note with trembling fingers, broke open the red seal, and began to read.
“My dear Alicia, Try not to worry. I’ll be with you every step of the way. Your devoted servant, Dalton.”
Alicia swallowed the lump in her throat and crumpled the note. Try not to worry? What did Dalton know of worry? He would relish the thought of upsetting his mother and her friends. But it wouldn’t be Dalton who would be whispered about and ridiculed. She closed her eyes against the fright she saw reflected in her face in the mirror.
Dear God, where would she find the strength to get through this agonizing ordeal?
Not to worry, indeed!
When Dalton had finished dressing, he summoned a footman to tell Olivia that he would be waiting downstairs. As he made his way down the curved staircase to the second-floor ballroom, the strains of a lively country dance drifted up to meet him. He nodded briefly to several groups of dandies, who stood alongside the refreshment table ogling the dancers in the nearby ballroom.
Dalton’s anxiety for Alicia increased. She must be going through a dozen hells this day. If only his mother reacted to the marriage announcement as he hoped, all will be well. If not, perhaps Alicia may never forgive him.
Dalton made his way to where a groom was sitting at the servant’s alcove. “Take a message to Lady Olivia’s suite and tell her—”
“I’m here, Brother.” Olivia rushed toward him, her blond ringlets brushing her creamy shoulders. “Oh, Dalton. I’m so glad I found you.” Her cheeks were flushed and she was out of breath. “Poor Alicia, she’s a bundle of nerves, and I can’t say that I blame her.” She drew her brows together. “I don’t know if she’ll be able to come downstairs.”
A mixture of guilt and dread flashed through him. “Where is she now?” he asked smoothly, masking his concern.
“In my suite.” Her blue eyes rounded with worry. “I think you had better call this off before it’s too late.”
Before he could answer, a low hush drew his attention to the top of the stairs. Floating down the marble stairway was the most elegant young woman he had ever seen. His breath caught when he realized she was Alicia. Gowned in a low-cut creation of white silk embroidered with silver, she was exquisite. Soft folds of fabric hugged her feminine curves with each step she took. Shining curls framed her radiant face, her long hair coiled atop her head in a crown of pearls. She drifted down the stairs with the natural born grace of a queen.
“Who is she?” echoed the growing crowd of male admirers as they gathered around Dalton at the foot of the stairway.
Alicia’s dark-brown eyes met his and he gave her a lazy smile, his heart bursting with pride as she descended the bottom step to stand before him. He couldn’t take his eyes from her.
“She is Lady Alicia Spencer,” Dalton said in a booming voice. He took both of her long-white-gloved hands in his. “My future bride,” he added proudly.
“You’re a lucky man, Dalton,” Olivia’s husband, Robert Seabrook said. He stood beside his wife. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Robert,” he said, drinking in the sight of Alicia. He saw her take a steadying breath. Through the silk of her gloves, her fingers felt like ice, and he realized how terrified she really was. He felt her tremble, yet her dazzling smile never faltered.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and her eyes danced with pleasure as she fell in step beside him on their way to the ballroom. He wondered if she had any idea the effect she was having on every male in the room, then decided she was far too innocent to know.
Her brown eyes, fringed with thick lashes, twinkled up at him. If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn she was enjoying this. He couldn’t help admire her ease under pressure.
“Congratulations, Dalton,” Lord Theodore Clitheridge
said, then bowed to Alicia. “And my best wishes for your happiness, my lady.”
Dalton recognized Lord Teddy, one of the leaders of the racing crowd, known for their love of fast horses and beautiful women. Teddy had been riding with Templestone and witnessed Elizabeth’s cut direct to Alicia.
Before Dalton could say anything, Alicia answered him with a dazzling smile. “Lord Clitheridge, how very kind of you.”
Lord Teddy’s eyes brightened, as though surprised or pleased that she remembered his name. Dalton felt a renewed sense of pride in this wellbred, charming woman who would be his wife.
“Excuse us, Teddy,” Dalton interjected, then turned to Alicia. “Come, my dear. The orchestra is playing a country dance. May I have the honor?”
She nodded, and he swept her into his arms. “Look only at me,” he whispered, as they twirled among the other couples. He was mesmerized by the way the candlelight from the overhead globes enhanced her high cheekbones and delicate, upturned nose. Soft ringlets bounced around her face as they stepped to the music. They circled the room, and he became conscious of the staring couples and the growing murmur of voices as they glided across the polished floor. Questions were being asked throughout the crush of guests as the other dancers stepped back and joined the hundreds of onlookers. Within minutes, he and Alicia were the only couple on the floor.
“You’re enchanting,” he said, meaning so much
more. He couldn’t take his eyes from her. Her cheeks flushed becomingly.
How had she changed? Or had she always been this bewitching? She smiled at him, and he realized that she carried herself with a certain air, a certain confidence that he hadn’t noticed before.
The music ended too soon, and he felt a jolt of disappointment. Only when they left the dance floor and Olivia and Robert approached them did he pull his gaze from her face.
He vaguely remembered the exchange of small talk as others joined their circle. He felt mesmerized by the natural sincerity and innocence that radiated from her.
“I think you should make the announcement now,” Olivia whispered to him. She and Robert stood by his side, and Dalton realized that by doing so, they were willing to suffer the social consequences with him if the dowager duchess were to create a scene when she heard the news. He felt a rush of appreciation for such loyalty. Dalton turned to his brother-in-law. “Are you certain you know what you’re doing, Robert? There’s still time for you and Olivia to leave.”
Robert’s dark-gray eyes glittered with unmistakable loyalty. “We’ll stand by you and Lady Alicia,” Robert said proudly, then smiled warmly at his wife. “What are friends for, eh, darling?”
Olivia grinned, then caught Alicia’s gaze. “We’ll be here, beside you, my dear.” Her eyes fixed with Dalton’s. “But you best hurry, Brother. Mother is looking our way.”
Dalton glanced her way. Surrounded by some of the most influential ton, the dowager sat regally in the corner, the color drained from her face as she stared at him. Her white-knuckled fingers gripped the diamond-studded handle of her cane.
The orchestra finished the last strains of a lively tune, and the couples were leaving the floor. Dalton took Alicia’s hand and led her to the center of the room. When he had everyone’s attention, he said in a booming voice, “It is my privilege this evening, to announce my engagement of marriage to this lovely young woman, Lady Alicia Spencer.”