Courting the Countess (34 page)

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Authors: Barbara Pierce

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BOOK: Courting the Countess
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London, June 1809
 
When Brook awakened she knew her husband, Lyon, had finally succeeded in what he had once threatened. He had murdered her. Confused by the unfamiliar surroundings, Brook rubbed her temple while she fought to remain conscious.
Pain, sharp and blinding, made her heart stutter while an iron vise mercilessly squeezed her abdomen. Arching her back in agony, she gritted her teeth trying to keep from crying out. Lyon despised weakness and would be furious if someone heard her. She flinched in fear at the competent hands that came out from the encroaching darkness. They soothed her while implacably preventing her from rising.
“Milord, her mind is as broken as her body,” a woman said mournfully. “Shall I call yer mon and have him get something to bind her to the bed?”
“I doubt leather cuffs will be necessary,” was the dry masculine retort. “The lady is too ill to be troublesome.”
The threat of being tied propelled Brook into action. Turning away from the disembodied hand that stroked her brow with a moist cloth, she rolled to her side. She was so weak the attempt to sit was halfhearted. The quick movement made her retch. Someone caught hold of her before she pitched headfirst off the bed. When that person discerned Brook’s need, a chamber pot appeared under her nose. Feeling like
she was being torn from the inside out, her stomach rejected its scanty contents.
When she was finished, she pressed her face into the muscular chest of the man who held her, too miserable to feel something as simple as humiliation.
“There is no shame letting one’s body set itself to rights,” the man murmured sympathetically in response to the soft mewling sound she did not realize she was making. “Milly, dispose of this mess while I see to our patient.”
“Aye, milord,” the woman replied, clearly not impressed with her companion’s decision. Gathering up the chamber pot and soiled linens, she quit the room.
Unperturbed by the woman’s sulky exit, the man eased Brook back into the small mountain of feather pillows. “I am pleased you are back with us again, Lady A’Court. Miss Bedegrayne has been inconsolable since your initial collapse. She blames herself, you see.”
Obviously, she did not. She shook her head as if to clear her confusion. “Bedegrayne. Miss Wynne Bedegrayne?” She had a sudden flash of sitting in her friend’s drawing room. Brook rubbed her temple, attempting to recall how she had managed to get herself to the Bedegrayne town house.
“Ah, I see you are beginning to remember. The fever and your …” he hesitated, judiciously picking his next words, “condition upon your arrival left you insensible. You will recall more as you improve.”
She stared up at the man who had no connection to her and yet had taken care of her during her illness. “Are you a physician?” His size was imposing, and he appeared to be fully capable of wielding his physique if it suited his needs. She tried not to stare, but the shock of white hair sprouting from his right temple drew her gaze up to his face. The eyes that returned her scrutiny were composed of the lightest blue, although at times his eyes took on a pewter cast. She shivered, feeling the coldness of the odd hue.
“I am a surgeon by trade. Wynne summoned me because I am also family. Her younger sister, Devona, is my wife.”
Le Cadavre Raffine
. That was the childish sobriquet the
ton
mockingly called him behind his back. The Refined Corpse. She had not recognized him, but she had heard the rumors about him.
Brook audibly swallowed. “I am acquainted with your wife,” she said faintly, not certain if she had been formally introduced to this gentleman. Regardless of the gossip, her friend would not summon an incompetent quack to care for her. “I am indebted to you, Lord—my lord,” she amended, flustered that all she could recall was that ridiculous name.
“Tipton,” he corrected. He heightened her embarrassment by pulling down the sheet covering her. She was wearing only a borrowed chemise. “Forgive my impudence, Lady A’Court. My interests are purely of a medical nature.” He gently pressed down on her abdomen. “Tender, hmm?”
Brook sucked in her breath and held it a few seconds before she exhaled. “It hurts.” Every part of her hurt. She frowned, staring at the top of his lower head. He was too focused on his examination to notice her regard. There was something in his manner that seemed reminiscent of another time he—what? “Is this the first time I have been conscious since my collapse? Did I say anything?” She could very well imagine what truths she might have uttered. A moment of weakness might have placed them both in danger.
“Hmm.” Tipton’s head came up and his light blue gaze cleared as his thoughts aligned to her question. “Oh, our conversation was brief. You were feverish and suffering. It might be kinder if you cannot recall it.” He pulled the sheet up and tucked it around her shoulders.
His brisk movements and the grimness she sensed in his statement alerted her that he was keeping something from her. “My lord, tell me, am I dying?”
The question startled him. “No.” He emphasized the denial
with a quick shake of his head. “You collapsed almost a day and a half ago. Although I confess that the seriousness of your condition concerned me, I am heartened by the fact that we are having a coherent conversation. It indicates you are improving.”
Brook glanced down at her clasped hands resting on her chest. A missing day was excusable, but it would take more than a fever to blot out the last few months. Closing her eyes to escape, she realized whatever lies she had spun for Wynne Bedegrayne would be a wasted effort on Lord Tipton. He had examined her body, and much to her shame, the viscount knew the truth.
Regret swelled within her chest. She should have never sought out Wynne Bedegrayne. Her selfishness had placed them all in an awkward position. Slipping a hand lower, she gingerly stroked her cramping stomach. “This … this fever could not be good for my baby,” she said, tears filling her eyes. The warm gush of blood between her legs already revealed the truth her fragile mind had shunned.
“The fever,” Tipton said, tasting the word. If possible, his expression grew even grimmer. “No, Lady A’Court, the
fever
was not.”
Tempting the Heiress
Courting the Countess
“Pierce does an excellent job blending danger and intrigue into the plot of her latest love story. Readers who like their Regency historicals a bit darker and spiked with realistic grit will love this wickedly sexy romance.”
—
Booklist
 
“Masterful storyteller Barbara Pierce pens captivating romances that are not to be missed!”
—Lorraine Heath,
USA Today
bestselling author of
Love with a Scandalous Lord
 
“I love
everything
about this book. The characters are like friends you cheer for, and the story draws you in so closely you will dream about it.”
—
Romance Reader at Heart
 
“
Tempting the Heiress
is the latest entry in the Bedegrayne family series and it is an excellent one. Known for the complexity of her characters, Barbara Pierce doesn’t disappoint in this aspect of
Tempting the Heiress
… I should warn new readers to the Bedegrayne series that they will find themselves eagerly glomming the previous three novels in the series. Highly recommended!”
—
The Romance Reader’s Connection
 
“This story is so touching … An excellent read.”
—
The Best Reviews
 
MORE …
 
A Gentleman at Heart
 
“This story includes a strong touch of action and … sensual encounters … A novel of the era that fans can definitely enjoy.”
—
Romantic Times
 
“The second in a series featuring the Bedegrayne family highlights a hero and heroine willing to risk scandal and brave danger for love, and the tangled passions and sensual desires that ensnare them.”
—
Booklist
 
“
A Gentleman at Heart
is a beautifully written, absorbing and complex Regency historical that will compel the reader to keep turning the pages.”
—
The Romance Reader Connection
 
“Ms. Pierce’s portrayal of high society lifestyles and the ‘taboo’ of mixing with a commoner are refreshing and delightfully off the beaten track.”
—
Romance Reviews Today
 
A Lady’s Mischief
 
“Delightful, vivid, exciting! Barbara Pierce’s star continues to rise!”
—Gaelen Foley, author of
Lady of Desire
 
“Looking for a dark, enigmatic hero? He’s here in the handsome Viscount Tipton and ready to ignite your imagination. Different and original, this dark and sometimes brooding tale will intrigue and fascinate and definitely keep you turning the pages.”
—
Romantic Times
 
“
A Lady’s Mischief
is an absolutely absorbing diverting historical romance. Once I began reading, I could NOT put it down!”
—
The Romance Reader’s Connection
 
“This is a wonderful book of love and the fears that accompany it, making this an author to watch for!”
—
Romance Reviews Today
 
A Desperate Game
 
“An exceptional debut! Destined to become a favorite among readers.”
—Lorraine Heath, author of
Love with a Scandalous Lord
 
“This is an excellent presentation of the Regency era … Very innovative.”
—
Romantic Times
 
“Barbara Pierce’s first historical romance is a romp, an adventure, and a suspenseful drama, peopled with compelling characters and a believable plot. A worthy debut.”
—
Affaire de Coeur
COURTING THE COUNTESS
Copyright © 2004 by Barbara Pierce.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
 
 
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
 
 
eISBN 9781466817067
First eBook Edition : March 2012
 
 
EAN: 80312-98622-3
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / November 2004

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