Free At Last by Jacquie D'Alessandro

At Last
    Jacquie
D’Alessandro
    First published in the UK
in The Mammoth Book of Scottish
Romance by Robinson, an imprint of
Constable & Robinson, 2011
    Original Copyright 2011 ©
Jacquie D’Alessandro
    Ebook Copyright 2011 ©
Jacquie D’Alessandro
    Cover Copyright 2011 ©
Jacquie D’Alessandro
    Ebook ISBN:
978-1-4524-8764-9
    Ebook edition published by
D’Alessandro Associates, Inc. at Smashwords.com, April
2011
    This book is a work of
fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either
products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead,
is entirely due to the author's narrative. All rights reserved. No
part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission
in writing from Jacquie D’Alessandro, except in the case of brief
quotations for articles or reviews.
    This Ebook version is
dedicated to all the men and women serving in our Armed Forces for
the sacrifices they make to keep our country safe. And as always,
to my wonderful husband Joe who is constantly helpful and
supportive, and our terrific son, Christopher, aka Helpful and
Supportive, Jr.
    Table of Contents
    Chapter One
    Chapter Two
    Chapter Three
    Chapter Four
    Chapter Five
    Chapter Six
    Chapter Seven
    Chapter Eight

    Chapter 1
     
    London, 1820
     
    “ Dear God, what is he doing
here?”
    The words rushed past Sophia Mallory,
Countess Winterbourne’s lips in a horrified whisper, her gaze
riveted on the tall, raven-haired man who stood framed in the
carved archway leading into the elegant ballroom. The sounds of
Lord and Lady Benningfield’s annual soiree--laughter mixed with the
hum of conversation, the lilt of the musician’s waltz, the clink of
fine crystal, all faded to a dull buzz in Sophia’s mind, as did the
more than two hundred guests milling about. Everything fell away
except him.
    Ian
Broderick .
    His name reverberated through her brain and
she blinked, certain he was some figment of her imagination--not a
completely farfetched notion as in spite of her best efforts to
forget him, he’d invaded her mind daily since she’d left him six
months ago. She blinked again, but his image remained in the
doorway, larger than life, striking panic in her heart.
    How had he, a man of no social standing,
managed to secure an invitation to one of Society’s premier events
of the season? Her stunned gaze flicked over the midnight blue
cutaway jacket that exactly matched his eyes and emphasized the
breadth of his shoulders. The intricate knot of his snowy cravat,
the burgundy and green plaid waistcoat that proclaimed him a Scot.
Perhaps his current elegant attire, freshly shaved face and neatly
trimmed hair--all the complete antithesis of the rough, workmen’s
clothing, day-old stubble, and untamed locks he’d sported the last
time she’d seen him--might have rendered him unrecognizable to
some, but Sophia would have known him anywhere, would have sensed
his presence even had the room been completely dark instead of
illuminated by dozens of candles. Where on earth had a
groundskeeper from the small Scottish town of Melrose procured such
expensive, perfectly tailored clothes?
    The questions flew from her mind and her
stomach clenched when her attention returned to his face and she
noted his sharp gaze intently panning the room. He couldn’t
possibly be looking for her--could he? No, she’d been very careful
to hide her full identity from him. Yet, the very fact he was here
rippled a fissure of terror through her that his unexpected
appearance somehow had something to do with her.
    Escape. She had to escape. Immediately.
Before he saw her. For even if he weren’t at this soiree because of
her, his discovering her here would set in motion any number of
scenarios, none of which would end well for her.
    He hadn’t seen her yet--but based on the way
his gaze scanned the room, those intense eyes