Fortune's Bride Read online

  The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as "unsold and destroyed." Neither the author nor the publisher received payment for the sale of this "stripped book.'

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents ate products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  An Original Publication of POCKET BOOKS

  A Sonnet Book published by

  POCKETBOOKS,a division of Simon&Schuster, Inc.

  1230 Avenue of the Americas,NewYork,NY 10020

  Copyright © 2000 by Victoria Malvey

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  ISBN: 0-7434-0334-7

  First Sonnet Books printing December 2000

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  SONNET BOOKS and colophon are trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  Covet art by Alan Ayets Printed in the U.S. A.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  To my friends—

  Thanks for all your support & encouragement.

  You enrich my life.

  And to my bud, Tracy Fobes,

  a very special thanks.

  You help keep me sane.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  My thanks to Pam Hopkins for her

  support and guidance.

  We make a great team, Pam.

  And a special thanks to

  Amy Pierpont for her patience and help

  in making Fortune's Bride even better.

  You're the best, Amy.

  1

  London, England

  Jane 1855

  "Give me your hand and I shall tell your fortune," said Lady Alyssa Porter in a low voice, trying to add mystery to her words.

  Eagerly, Lady Moore took a seat on the opposite side of the little table and held out her hand. "What can you see, Madam Zora?"

  "Ahhhhh," Alyssa drawled, stroking a long nail along the curved line in Lady Moore's palm. "You shall live a long, prosperous life."

  Lady Moore's eyes widened as she leaned forward to look into her hand. "You can tell that by simply seeing my palm?'

  "Your future is predestined, my lady, and only one trained in reading the signs can foretell what lies ahead for you." Waving a hand, Alyssa sent her many bracelets dancing along her arm. "Luckily for you, I am one such as you need to read your future. Mystical powers have thrived in my family for many, many generations."

  "Oh, Madam Zora," whispered Lady Moore breathlessly.

  Alyssa held back her smile of satisfaction. She'd obviously impressed Lady Moore with her tale. After three months of perfecting her role, Alyssa had finally arrived. She'd convinced the ton that she was the mystical "Madam Zora," all-knowing seer of the future, and, in doing so, was able to earn enough money to provide for her and her sister. Alyssa nodded once. "Now shall we continue?"

  "Oh, continue, please... please." Lady Moore scooted forward on her chair. "What of my ... love life?" she whispered.

  Remembering the latest bit of gossip about Lady Moore, Alyssa traced the line on the older woman's palm. "Ah, yes, your love line," she murmured as if caught up in the reading. "You have recently met a tall, dark stranger, haven't you?"

  Her mouth dropped open. "Yes!" she finally exclaimed. "How did you know?"

  Alyssa smiled slightly. "Your palm reveals all."

  "Ohhh," murmured Lady Moore, once again looking intently at her hand.

  "I see here your first love has been gone for many years," Alyssa continued.

  "My husband, Robert, passed on seven years ago."

  Alyssa's coin-laden veil jangled as she nodded sagely. "Which explains the darkness along this line," she said, pointing to the jagged crease in Lady Moore's hand. "But here is where the dark stranger enters."

  Lady Moore's expression softened. "Malcolm."

  "This man, he treats you well," Alyssa said, watching the woman closely for her reaction.

  "Oh, yes," she replied enthusiastically. "He's a dear, but..."

  "But you still hold your husband close to your heart," Alyssa concluded.

  Slowly, Lady Moore nodded. " Tis silly of me, I know, but I believe that as long as I remain a widow my Robert will always be with me."

  Pointing to three lines on Lady Moore's palm, Alyssa gave Lady Moore the prediction she wanted. "As you can plainly see, your life changes here where three lines entwine as one." She captured Lady Moore's gaze. "If you accept this man, this Malcolm, into your life, you will not be losing anything... including the spirit of your late husband. It is your destiny."

  A sigh of relief escaped Lady Moore. "My dear Madam Zora," she whispered, dabbing at the corners of her eyes. "You can't know how I longed to hear such a prediction."

  Ah, but she coulcd, Alyssa thought, for she'd overheard Lady Moore at a party three nights ago. Folding her hands on top of each other, Alyssa lifted one shoulder. "I only tell you what I read in your hand."

  Murmuring her thanks, Lady Moore rose from the seat, making way for the next woman in line.

  * * *

  "Why are there so many men in the study this evening?" asked Ian Fortune, glancing around the smoke-filled room. "Normally most of them are courting their ladies on the dance floor."

  "But that's just it," replied Peter. "The ladies aren't interested in dancing."

  "Impossible."

  "It's quite true, Ian," Peter assured him. "All of the women are waiting to speak with Madam Zora."

  "Madam who?"

  "Zora," repeated Peter. "She's the Gypsy fortuneteller that Lord Hargrave had at his affair three weeks ago. Ever since Hargrave's party, no event is complete without Madam Zora."

  "Who is she? Where did Hargrave find her?"

  "According to rumor, she simply walked up and knocked on his front door, demanding an audience. After she proceeded to accurately tell Hargrave's future, he hired her for his party." A side of his mouth tilted upward. "She claims to be a full-blooded Gypsy."

  "And everyone believes her? Just like that?"

  Shrugging, Peter glanced around the room. "It would appear that way."

  The whims of the ton never failed to amaze Ian. "What parlor tricks does she do?"

  "She reads your palm or tarot cards for you," Peter explained. "Two days ago at the Smythe's soiree, she even gazed into a crystal ball."

  Ian snorted. "Crystal ball indeed."

  "Whether you believe it or not, the fact remains that most of the ladies are convinced that Madam Zora can truly see the future."

  "Bloody peahens," Ian retorted, shaking his head. "Then I should offer my compliments to this Gypsy for having outwitted the elite."

  "Indeed you should." Peter gave him a sly smile. "After all she's your lady."

  "What the devil do you mean by that?" Ian asked with a questionin
g smile.

  "They've dubbed her Fortune's Lady."

  Bursting into laughter, Ian set down his snifter of brandy. "That settles it, my friend. I believe it's time we learned our fates, don't your

  "I do," Peter agreed, snubbing out his cigar. "I'm always up for a bit of entertainment."

  "Then a Gypsy fortuneteller is precisely what you need," Ian tossed over his shoulder as he strode from the room.

  Hurrying after him, Peter called, "May I go first?"

  * * *

  Alyssa watched Lady Pettibone walk away. Another satisfied customer, she thought, holding in her smile. Turning toward the next person waiting, Alyssa blinked once when she saw the two men standing before her. "Oh," she gasped softly, unaccustomed to men seeking their fortune. Quickly, she regained her composure. "You wish to learn your fortune?"

  "Indeed I do," answered the slender black-haired man as he took a seat. "Peter Sunley, Viscount of Essex, at your service."

  Before Alyssa could even respond, the second fellow stepped forward. "Surely there was no need to tell her your name, Peter. I'm certain she already knows who you are."

  Lifting her gaze, Alyssa started at the incredibly handsome man standing behind Lord Essex. The arrogant smirk upon his face did little to detract from his looks. "I tell fortunes, my lord," she replied coolly. "I don't read rnifids."

  "How convenient," the glorious one said, crossing his arms.

  The man's attitude was familiar to Alyssa, as she'd often faced disdain since she'd assumed this role as Madam Zora. Yet something about him flustered her. The lively gleam in his startlingly blue eyes tugged at her senses...

  Alyssa broke off her thoughts and redirected them. After all, she'd been paid well to entertain, not to grow tongue-tied at a handsome young lord. Lifting her chin, she returned her attention to Lord Essex. "Do you wish to have your fortune told or are you simply here to mock me like your friend?"

  "Pay Ian no mind," Lord Essex instructed, frowning back at his friend. "He doesn't believe in mystical matters. If he can't touch it or feel it, he doesn't believe in it."

  "I already realized that fact."

  "And how's that?" Ian asked with a laugh. "Did you look into your crystal ball, perchance?"

  "There was no need, my lord. Your attitude alone speaks volumes."

  Placing a hand on the back of Lord Essex's chair, Ian leaned closer. "And what does my attitude tell you?'

  Rising to the challenge in his eyes, Alyssa tilted back her head. "That you are well accustomed to having things fall neatly into place."

  "What man isn't?" he retorted. "Come now, Madam Zora. Tell me something that only a fortuneteller would know."

  "You mock me and then expect to receive my gift of inner sightr Alyssa clicked her tongue in what she hoped was a dismissing sound. "1 think not, my lord."

  "As I expected," he returned swiftly. "Your claim of mystical powers seems far-fetched to me, Madam Zora. After all, you continue to address me as 'my lord' when I am untitled."

  It took all of her self-control to keep from revealing her surprise at his revelation. With his arrogance and commanding presence, she'd assumed he was a titled gentleman. Shrugging lightly, Alyssa said, "If I had consulted the cards, all would have been revealed to me."

  Ian rolled his eyes.

  Determined to ignore the impudent man, she turned toward Lord Essex, giving him a smile. "As for you, my lord, since you're obviously a believer, I shall be happy to tell you what awaits you in the future."

  Eagerly, Lord Essex shifted forward, holding out his hand. "Miss Hart was kind enough to tell me you were reading palms this evening," he said, nodding toward the blushing girl who was next in line.

  The leering note in his voice gave Alyssa her first clue. Cradling his hand, she slowly traced a fingernail along the lines. "You have not yet found the lady of your dreams, my lord."

  Lord Essex's eyes widened. "That's true," he replied, awe coloring his answer.

  Glancing at Miss Hart, Alyssa saw how the young lady blushed prettily while peeking shyly at Lord Essex. "Yet there are many who would eagerly accept your attention."

  "You can see all that in Peter's hand?" Ian nudged his friend. "When was the last time you washed, old man?"

  Lord Essex chortled. "Enough, Ian. If you don't desist, Madam Zora will never consent to finishing my fortune." Sobering, he looked at Alyssa. "I apologize for my friend. He means no insult."

  "Of course not," Alyssa said smoothly. "Your friend merely mocks me for amusement. I am but a Gypsy sharing my gifts with those who believe in exchange for wages which purchase my food and shelter. Yet, this Ian of yours delights in tormenting me."

  Alyssa watched as all of the humor slid from lan's face, leaving behind a shadow of guilt. Rising with dignity, she faced Ian. "You wish to hear something about yourself that no one else could know, sir?" Without waiting for an answer, Alyssa continued, "You take pleasure in humiliating others." She swept her gaze over him. "It was foolish of me to have mistaken you for a gentleman."

  Lifting her chin, Alyssa spun on her heel and walked away.

  * * *

  Shame filled Ian.

  The beautiful little Gypsy was quite correct in her assessment. His mockery of her was poorly done.

  "You were a bit hard on her, don't you think?" Peter asked, moving to stand next to Ian.

  "More than a bit," Ian admitted, rubbing two fingers against his forehead. "I don't know why I was so... so..."

  "Unpleasant? Nasty? Insulting?"

  Thank you," Ian remarked dryly.

  "My pleasure." Peter slapped a hand upon Ian's shoulder. "What's gotten into you this evening, my friend?"

  "I don't know." Ian felt a bevy of gazes upon him. "I'm quite certain everyone else is wondering the same thing."

  "Can you blame them? After all, you did manage to scare off the fortuneteller."

  Ian felt another rush of guilt. He'd just been toying with her, but he'd forgotten that true gentlemen threw taunts at each other, not someone lesser than they. "No, I can't blame them," he said quietly. "I shall have to apologize to the Gypsy the next time I see her."

  "Apologize?" Peter repeated incredulously, "To a Gypsy wench ?"

  "No, to a young woman simply trying to make a day's wages," Ian corrected.

  Tilting his head to the side, Peter seemed to be considering his response. "If anyone can empathize with the girl, it would be you, my friend."

  "Not all of us are born into money," Ian retorted.

  Peter gave Ian a pointed look. "And some of us are ... yet choose to ignore it,"

  "My father had not a farthing to his name when he passed away."

  "The same cannot be said of your grandfather, who is still alive and quite healthy despite his advanced age."

  Something inside of Ian twisted. "I do not have a grandfather."

  "No, you don't have one you'll acknowledge," Peter corrected.

  "Be that as it may, the outcome remains the same, leaving me a man struggling to secure financial success." He looked down at the Gypsy's table. "And it was unforgivable of me to mock those trying to do the very same thing... regardless of my personal opinion of their methods."

  "If you're set on apologizing to Madam Zora, I be-lieve she's next scheduled to appear at the Coving-tons' affair two days hence."

  Retrieving the tarot cards the Gypsy had left behind in her haste, Ian tucked them into his pocket. " Til then."

  2

  Though anger drove her forward, Alyssa still took pains to make her way home slowly, taking the most circuitous route to the room she shared with her sister. If anyone discovered her true identity, Alyssa's for-tunetelling days would be over and all of her hopes for Calla's future would be destroyed.

  Glancing around, Alyssa slipped into her tenant house, stealing up two flights of stairs, and into her room. Calla stood next to the stove, heating a pot of tea, in the corner that served as their kitchen.

  "Alyssa," exclaimed Calla, moving forward to
hug her sister. "You're early this evening."

  "I... I was able to slip out," Alyssa murmured, not wishing to upset her sister. Retrieving her shawl, she wrapped it around herself. "I hope you weren't too bored here all alone." Once again, she felt the sting of guilt. Ever since their parents had been killed, she'd struggled to rebuild a life for herself and her sister... and she felt as if she was floundering. What sort of a life was it for a fourteen-year-old girl to be left alone in this rented room every night?

  "Are you changing the subject?" Calla asked, tipping her head to the side.

  Pushing aside her doubts, Alyssa poured herself a cup of tea. "Of course not."

  "Come now, Alyssa," Calla scoffed, putting her hands upon her hips. "Tell me what happened this evening."

  Sighing, Alyssa gave up her attempt to shield Calla. "Nothing much, truly. There was simply an arrogant fellow—"

  "From what you've told me, there isn't a shortage of those among the ton," Calla returned with a smile.

  "That's certainly true," agreed Alyssa. "Only this time, I allowed this man's taunts to unnerve me."

  Calla's eyes widened. "You?"

  Laughing at her sister's disbelief, Alyssa took a sip of tea. "Hard to believe, but true."

  "I can't imagine anyone upsetting you," Calla admitted, "You've faced down creditors, sent them packing without batting an eye when they came pounding upon our door."

  But none of the creditors were men who sparked a flicker of interest within her. Yet this Ian fellow, with his wicked grin and challenging attitude, had intrigued her from the first moment she saw him.

  Lifting one shoulder, Alyssa tried to dismiss her sister's amazement. "I don't know what it was about this man, Ian, but he managed to irk me quite easily."

  "He sounds utterly fascinating."

  Alyssa laughed at her sister. "How old are you again?'

  "Old enough to know that a gentleman who can manage to irk you must be something special indeed."

  Something special The words played over in Alyssa's thoughts as she pictured the stunning Ian in her mind. Shivering slightly, she promptly pushed the image away.

  "He was something, I'll grant you, but not something good," Alyssa said tartly.