Free The Stranger She Married by Donna Hatch Page B

said.
    "That's a relief.” He smiled, his dark eyes intense upon her face. Alicia realized that his smiles never seemed to touch his eyes. He seemed troubled. His father's poor health? Was soldiering still difficult even though the war had ended?
    The game ended among cries of victory and defeat, drawing their attention.
    Mr. de Champs joined them. “I am relieved you did not suffer any ill effect from the mishap at dinner, Miss Palmer. And your sleeve is even dry now."
    What a shame her uncle would not consider men such as Mr. de Champs or Captain Hawthorne as suitable husbands. True, they were not outrageously wealthy, but they seemed decent men, much more so than her current would-be suitors. But, no, Uncle needed more money than they could, or would, give him for her.
    Lord Amesbury entered the circle, his disturbing nearness making the room too warm. She deliberately averted her eyes. How could she have been attracted to that man?
    Mr. de Champs touched her arm briefly. “Miss Palmer, are you unwell?"
    "I'm ... just tired, I think."
    Mrs. Fitzpatrick edged closer, concern in her face. “I have called my carriage. May we offer you a ride home?"
    And ride in the carriage with her nephew? “No! Ah, I mean, no thank you. I don't wish to impose."
    Mr. Fitzpatrick appeared. “No trouble at all, young Miss Palmer. Not out of the way at all. We insist."
    Alicia drew a fortifying breath. The Fitzpatrick house lay off the same highway as Alicia's home, but hers was several miles beyond. It would most certainly be out of the way.
    "You're very kind, sir, but—"
    "Not at all, not at all.” Mr. Fitzpatrick cut in. “Don your wraps, there's a good girl. Where's your sister?"
    Hannah arrived then, watching Alicia curiously, while the footmen brought their wraps.
    Mrs. Fitzpatrick smiled as if she enjoyed a great joke. “Come, ladies, your cousin will be well cared for here. I'm sure they'll send him home right as rain in the morning."
    "You're very kind,” Hannah said softly.
    Alicia found herself ushered to the coach but she hung back and waited for the nobility to enter first. She glanced up expectantly at the viscount, since he clearly outranked her poor, untitled self, but he motioned her in ahead of him. As she stepped in, his hand appeared under her elbow, steadying her.
    Holding her tongue out of respect for Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick, she swallowed and uttered a breathless “thank you” instead of the scathing words that entered her mind. She seated herself inside the comfortable coach. Hannah settled beside her furthest from the door. A lantern hanging from the ceiling illuminated the dark velvet trappings of the luxurious coach. The Fitzpatricks seated across from them. The viscount eased himself down next to Alicia, his thigh casually brushing against hers.
    Alicia shrank back from him and edged closer to Hannah. “This is too kind of you, Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick,” she managed.
    "Nonsense, my dear child, we are happy to do it.” Mrs. Fitzpatrick happily leaned back against the cushioned seats. “This gives us further opportunity to speak with you."
    Fortunately, they did not require much from her in the way of conversation, and Mr. Fitzpatrick kept them entertained with his dry sense of humor. Despite the hateful Lord Amesbury's magnetic and disturbing presence, Mr. Fitzpatrick and his charming wife's easy banter and unbelievable tales soothed her nerves and she actually began to relax as she listened to them.
    "You're home.” The viscount's voice sounded very near.
    Disoriented, she rubbed her eyes. The coach had stopped. As she realized that she had fallen asleep in their company, a flood of mortification swept over her.
    "Oh, no. Oh, please forgive me.” Then, to further her shame, she became aware that her head had fallen onto Lord Amesbury's shoulder.
    Amusement danced on his mouth. “I hope I provided some comfort to you, Miss Palmer."
    There seemed no end to the embarrassments she must suffer in