style="font-size:15px;"> Olivia collected herself. “Alicia’s father is a notorious drunk, a gambler who has almost lost their family estate many times. Three years ago, when Alicia arrived for her first Season, she was thrown into the most shocking scandal.”
Dalton knew that Olivia, unlike their mother, disliked gossip, and he wished he could have found out what he needed to know about Lady Alicia Spencer some other way. But he needed to be discreet, and Olivia was one of the few people he trusted.
“The incident happened during Lady Alicia’s first ball, which was given by Mother at our London town house. It was also Elizabeth’s first Season. In fact, mother was Elizabeth’s patroness that year. Do you remember, Dalton?”
He shook his head. “No. That spring I was in Portugal, fighting with Wellesley’s campaign. Just before Drake enlisted—”
His words faded when he saw the pained expression cross Olivia’s face at the mention of their brother. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I didn’t mean…”
She laid her white-gloved hand on his sleeve. “It’s quite all right, Dalton.” She paused, glancing up at the stars twinkling overhead. “You’d think after three years that I would accept that he’s never coming home.” She shook her head. “I know I sound foolish, Dalton. Forgive me.”
“You’re not foolish, my dear. I miss him, too.”
“The worst part for me was not having Drake’s body returned to England. I so hate to think—”
He patted her hand. “Drake will remain alive in our hearts as long as we remember him, Olivia. He’d be so proud that you named your first son after him.”
The tight smile on Olivia’s lips faded. “Thank God that you returned safely from the war. I don’t know what I would have done without you, too.”
Olivia, so sensitive, so caring. He squeezed her hand in an attempt to comfort. She was almost nine years younger than he; maybe that was why he would always feel so protective of her.
“I haven’t told you the worst about Lady Alicia’s past,” Olivia said, recovering. She met his gaze. “On the evening of Alicia’s first ball, she was found with your friend, Justin Sykes, alone in his bedroom.”
“Sykes?” Dalton released her hand. “I don’t believe it.”
She nodded. “There’s no mistake. In fact, Great-Aunt Mary said that Mother and several of her friends found them together.”
Dalton furrowed his brows in disbelief. Justin Sykes’s reputation as a rake and a scoundrel was well-known. Rumor had it that he’d made his wealth from selling contraband to Napoleon’s troops, but Dalton had never believed it. Certainly an innocent like Alicia would be warned to steer clear of such a scoundrel, unless she thought herself in love with him. “Are you certain?”
“Yes. Word of the affair spread and by nightfall of the next day, Lady Alicia had returned home in utter disgrace.” Blue eyes, so like his own, stared back at him. “Great-Aunt Mary remembers the incident vividly. Before Alicia’s downfall, everyone said that she was by far the most beautiful jewel of the Season.”
“Did Sykes offer for her?”
Olivia’s eyes widened. “That’s what upset everyone the most. Justin Sykes offered to marry her, and the girl turned him down.”
“That’s devilishly queer. Why?”
“Despite all the rumors, no one knew the truth.”
Dalton thought back to the lovely, free-spirited woman who had barely concealed her animosity toward him. Beneath her plain gown, he’d seen the full high breasts and the feminine outline of her tiny waist and gently rounded hips, and he remembered his immediate reaction to her. He prided himself on being able to look beyond this sort of attraction to women in order to make astute judgments of the fair sex.
Yet the more he discovered about Alicia, the more mysterious she became. Now, he understood her initial refusal to tend Bashshar, and the sacrifice she’d made to come to the family estate and face his mother.
“I’ve done Lady Alicia a grave disservice, I’m afraid.”
“What do you mean, Dalton?”
“Alicia has put aside her feelings about our mother to help an injured animal. She’s here solely because she wants to cure Bashshar.”
“Hmm. I see she’s impressed you, brother.” A note of inquisitiveness rang on her words. “I’m curious to meet her.”
“Perhaps you could pay her a visit tomorrow. I haven’t told anyone else that she’s arrived. I’m afraid you might be her only friend while she’s here.”
“Oh, Dalton. Mother will never permit her to stay.”
“I’m now the duke. Mother will have to accept the fact.”
Olivia shook her head. “Don’t underestimate the damage Mother can do, Dalton. She’s still one of the most powerful members of the ton. She can destroy people with her tongue as easily as Wellington can with his sword.”
“No need to warn me about the dragon,” he answered lightly.
Olivia’s assessing gaze told Dalton that she was wondering, again, what he knew about their mother that had so hardened him against her. But Olivia also knew that he would never speak of the matter.
“Let me escort you back to the ballroom, Sister. Your husband must be frantically looking everywhere for you.” He rose and took her hand, then accompanied her back toward the hall.
After Dalton left Olivia, he headed for the livery stable. He wanted to check on Bashshar for the night.
When he came to the stables, golden light flickered from the west windows of the building. Since the accident, Dalton had ordered the lanterns high above Bashshar’s stall to remain lit, hopeful the small gesture might ease the stallion’s fears.
The memory of Bashshar’s injury still haunted Dalton. So far, he had found no sound reason for anyone to shoot at him. But from the footprints the gamekeeper had found, there was little doubt that the shooter had waited for some time, stalking Dalton when he returned from Bashshar’s workout.
Inside the stable, Dalton strode along the corridors. Several horses whinnied a greeting. When he approached Bashshar’s stable room, a faint nicker told him that Bashshar recognized his footfalls. Dalton smiled, taking that as a sign of improvement. After the accident, Bashshar wasn’t able to recognize what was familiar, what was strange. The horse saw everything as an attack.
When he approached the stall, Dalton noticed the bar across the door had been removed. Irritation rushed through him. It wasn’t like Ulger or the staff to be careless and leave Bashshar’s stall unlocked! Dalton eased the door open.
Alicia stood alone beneath the overhead lantern, barely a few feet from Bashshar. The stallion lowered his head, not making a sound. Dalton wanted to rush to her, protect her in case Bashshar reared. Instead, Dalton hesitated, afraid to make a sudden movement that might startle the horse.
She was dressed in a pristine nightgown, with white lace circling her neck.
