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
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
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