"You've known this man for years?" Colin asked Dreyson.
"Yes, of course."
Colin leaned back against the cushions. He knew he probably owed Alesandra an apology for jumping to the wrong conclusion. He decided he would get to that later, when they were alone.
"Convey my appreciation in your next letter," Colin told Alesandra.
"Then you accept…"
She stopped her question when Colin shook his head. "It was thoughtful of him, but much too extravagant. I—or, rather, we—cannot accept it. Suggest something else to him."
"Such as?"
Colin shrugged. "You'll think of something," he told her. "What was the other matter you wished to discuss?"
Dreyson became agitated. He started to explain, then suddenly stopped. While he threaded his fingers through his thinning gray hair, he cleared his throat. Then he started again. "A delicate situation has developed," he announced. "A nasty piece of business, I warn you."
"Yes?" Colin urged when the broker didn't immediately continue.
"Is either of you familiar with the Life Assurance Act of 1774?"
He didn't give Colin or Alesandra time to answer. "No one pays much attention to the ruling these days. It was passed such a long time ago."
"For what purpose?" Alesandra asked, wondering where in heaven's name this discussion was leading.
"A shameful practice was found out," Dreyson explained. "There were immoral men who would insure a life and then hire out the murder so they could collect the profit. Yes, it's shameful, but true, Princess."
"But what does this have—"
Colin interrupted her. "Give him time to explain, Alesandra."
She nodded. "Yes, of course," she whispered.
Dreyson turned his attention to Colin. "Not too many of the firms pay any attention to the Act anymore. It served its purpose, you see… for a time. However, it has just come to my attention that an insurance policy was taken out on your wife. The date was set at noon yesterday, and the sum is quite high."
Colin let out a low expletive. Alesandra leaned into his side. "Who would do such a thing? And why?"
"There are stipulations," Dreyson added with a nod. "And a time allowance as well."
"I heard that Napoleon's life was insured, but only for one month's time," Alesandra whispered. "And the Duke of Westminster insured his horse. Is that what you mean when you speak of a time allowance, Matthew?"
The broker nodded. "Yes, Princess. That is what I mean."
"Who underwrote this policy?" Colin demanded. The anger in his voice was barely controlled.
"Was it Lloyd's of London?" Alesandra asked.
"No," Matthew answered. "They're too reputable to become involved in a common wager. Morton and Sons underwrote the policy. They're the culprits, all right. They'll take any contract if the sum is high enough. I certainly don't deal with them," he added with a nod. "But a friend of mine does and he's the one who gave me the news. Thank the Lord I happened to run into him."
"Give me the particulars," Colin commanded. "What is the time limit?"
"One month."
"Who benefits if she dies?"
"The man who purchased the contract wishes anonymity" he answered.
"Can he do that?" Alesandra asked.
"Yes," Dreyson answered. "Your uncle Albert does the very same by using his initials and he wouldn't have to put those down if he didn't want to, Princess. The underwriters are sworn to secrecy."
The agent turned his attention back to Colin. "Thus far my friend and I haven't been able to find out who is behind this foul scheme. I'd wager, however, that it is the same scoundrel who blocked your wife's funds."
"General Ivan? It can't be," Alesandra argued. "Colin and I have been married only one day. He can't know yet."
"Precautions," Dreyson speculated.
Colin understood what the broker was trying to tell Alesandra. He put his arm around his wife, gave her an affectionate squeeze, and then said, "He probably gave orders to one of the men he sent after you. He's just having his fun, wife. He's a damned poor loser. He obviously knew you didn't want to marry him. You did run away in the dead of night."
"He's cruel-hearted, isn't he?"
Colin could think of at least a hundred better descriptions. "Yes, he is cruel," he agreed, just to please her.
"Matthew, did you mean it when you said Morton and Sons will issue any sort of policy?"
"Not policy, Princess, but contract," Dreyson corrected.
"What is the difference?"
"Your husband would insure his ship," he answered. "He would take out a policy to protect against disaster. A contract is another matter altogether. At least the type of voucher Morton and Sons issues is different," he added in a mutter. "It's nothing but a wager, but cloaked as insurance protection so it doesn't violate the Act of 1774. Now then, in answer to your question, yes, they will issue any sort of wager. I remember one in particular. Everyone in London was talking about it. The Marquess of Covingham's wife delivered him a son, and a contract was immediately taken out on the infant's life for one year. The amount was high and payable only if the infant died."
"Do you mean to say the contract could have been issued for the opposite? To pay if the infant lived?"
"Yes, Princess," Dreyson agreed. "Everyone was appalled, of course. The Marquess was in a rage. Speculation grew during the course of the year, for you see, although the buyer of the contract can remain unknown at the time of purchase, his identity will be found out when he collects the sum due him. He must present himself at Morton and Sons and personally sign the voucher. He cannot send a representative."
"So we will know, in one month's time, if General Ivan was behind the purchase," Alesandra said.
Colin shook his head. "It will only pay if you die, remember? And since you're going to stay fit, the general won't have anything to collect. He'll have no reason to come to England."
She nodded. "Yes, of course. Matthew? Did the son live or die?" she asked, her mind still centered on the story about the Marquess of Covingham. "He lived."
"Who took the contract out?"
"To this day no one knows," he answered. "Princess, I'm pleased to see you're taking this news calmly," he added.
Colin almost smiled. Alesandra really was very good at hiding her reactions. He could feel her trembling in his arms, but the expression on her face never faltered. She looked quite serene.
He knew better. "She has no reason to worry," he said. "She knows I'll protect her. Matthew, I want you to continue to try to find out who is behind this," he ordered then. "We can assume it's the general, but I want actual proof."
"Yes, of course. I won't give up."
"I wonder if everyone in London knows about this contract yet," Alesandra said. "If so, someone might have heard of a boast…"
"If a boast's been made, I'll hear about it," Dreyson assured her. "I wouldn't hold out hope that it's getting much notice, however, what with the fresh scandal making the rounds."
"What scandal?" Alesandra asked, her curiosity pricked. "Why the Viscount of Talbolt's trouble, of course. His wife has caused the scandal. She left her husband. Astonishing, isn't it?"
Colin had never heard of anything so preposterous. Husbands and wives stayed together no matter how difficult the marriage became. "There has to be another explanation," he said.
"Do you know the viscount?" Alesandra asked her husband.
"Yes. He went to Oxford with my brother. He's a good man. Lady Roberta probably just went back to their country estate for a few days. The ton is always looking for reasons to gossip." Dreyson nodded his agreement. "I heard the rumor from
Lord Thorton and I'll be the first to admit he's one to gossip. Still, the facts tell. Lady Roberta seems to have vanished into thin air. The viscount is beside himself with worry."
A shiver rushed down Alesandra's arms. "Vanished?" she whispered.
"She'll turn up," Dreyson rushed out as soon as he saw how worried the princess was becoming. "I'll wager they had a little marital spat and she's punishing him. She'll come out of hiding in a day or two."
The broker stood up. Colin walked by his side to the foyer. Alesandra stopped the two of them when she called out, "Matthew, no matter how outrageous the contract, if the sum is high enough Morton and Sons will agree?"
"Yes, Princess."
Alesandra smiled at Colin. "Husband, I would like for you to prove to me you mean to protect me."
His wife dared to keep right on smiling at him after she'd given him that insult. He knew she was up to something but he didn't have the faintest notion what it was.
"What do you have in mind?" he asked.
She walked over to Colin's side. "Take a contract out on me, naming yourself as beneficiary, for the exact sum and the exact time limit"
Colin was already shaking his head before she'd finished her request.
"It's a clever plan," she argued. "Do quit shaking your head at me."
"And will the policy pay if you live or die, Alesandra?"
She gave him a disgruntled look. "If I live, of course."
She turned her attention to Dreyson. "I know you dislike doing business with Morton and Sons, but couldn't you see to this little transaction?"
"I haven't agreed to this—"
"Please, Matthew," she interrupted, ignoring her husband's protest.
"Then you want his name on the voucher for everyone to read?" Dreyson asked.
"Yes, of course," she answered.
"You'll have to pay a high premium, and I'm not at all certain there's an underwriter willing to sign his initials alongside yours," he told Colin.
"You told me once that Lloyd's of London would insure a sinking ship if the price was high enough," Alesandra reminded the broker. "I'm certain Morton and Sons, with its tainted reputation for common wagering, would leap at the chance to make a profit."
"Perhaps… if you were married to anyone but Sir Hallbrook, that would be true. However, your husband's reputation will defeat your plan, Princess. No one's going to wager against him."
"Why is that?" she asked.
Dreyson smiled. "Your husband has become a legend of sorts. He's feared in most circles. His work, you see, for the War Department—"
"That's enough, Dreyson," Colin interrupted. "You're worrying my wife."
The agent immediately apologized. "Do I try to find someone to underwrite the voucher, Sir Hallbrook?"
"Call it what it is," Colin said. "A wager."
"If you have any doubts about your ability to keep me safe, then I would of course understand your reluctance to put your hard-earned money—"
"You know damned good and well I'm going to protect you," he snapped. "Honest to God, Alesandra, most women would be weeping with fear after finding out someone has taken a contract out on them, but you…"
"Yes?"
He shook his head. He finally accepted defeat, though not at all gracefully. "Do it then," he grumbled. "If my wife wants everyone in London to know there are two vouchers in effect, we'll let her have her way."
Alesandra smiled. "Do you know, Colin, you're actually wagering on your own ability. It's quite sporting, really," she added. "And in my opinion, a certain profit for you. You really shouldn't act so surly about this. I have ultimate faith in you. I therefore see no reason to fret."
Alesandra didn't wait to hear what Colin had to say about her opinions. She bid the agent good-bye and then went upstairs.
Flannaghan appeared out of the shadows. He let Dreyson out the front door and then hurried over to his employer. "She isn't at all worried, is she, milord?"
"How much did you overhear?"
"All of it."
Colin shook his head. "Your uncle would be pleased. You're picking up all of his unsavory habits."
"Thank you, milord. Your princess's loyalty must please you."
Colin smiled. He didn't answer his servant but went up the stairs to his study. Flannaghan's words echoed in his mind.
My princess, he thought to himself. Yes, she was his princess now, and, oh, how she pleased him.
Chapter 10
He infuriated her. They had their first argument late that night. Alesandra had already gone to bed, but she couldn't sleep, so she worked on the list of duties she wanted to accomplish the following day. She was in her own bedroom, of course, because that was where Flannaghan had told her Colin wanted her to sleep, and she was desperately trying not to become upset with her husband because he happened to be such an unfeeling clout. He couldn't help the way he was, could he? Their marriage wasn't a love match either, and if Colin wanted to sleep apart from her, she shouldn't take exception. She did, though. She felt vulnerable—frightened, too—and she couldn't understand why she would be plagued by either emotion.
She tried to understand what was happening to her. She decided she was feeling so insecure because Colin had put her in a much weaker bargaining position. Then she shook her head over that fanciful thought. What did she have to bargain? Her husband had rejected everything she had to give.
Heaven help her, she was beginning to feel sorry for herself. Mother Superior, in one of her daily lectures, had told her that men and women often wanted things they could never have. Envy, she explained, soon turned into jealousy, and once the tentacles of that sinful emotion had taken hold, misery soon followed. Jealousy burned, consumed, until there wasn't room for joy or love or happiness of any sort.
"But I'm not jealous," she whispered to herself. She was envious, though, and let out a little worried sigh over that admission. She was already envious of Colin's brother's happy marriage, and, Lord, did that mean she would soon turn into a jealous shrew and be miserable for the rest of her days?
Marriage, she decided, was a complicated business.
Colin didn't have time for it. He had disappeared into his study directly after dinner to work on his accounts. Having a wife wasn't going to change his habits. He was building an empire, and no one, especially an unwanted bride, was going to interfere with his plans. Colin hadn't had to sit her down and explain his views to her. His actions spoke for him.