The Countess (15 page)

“That,” he said wearily, “is my twin brother George.”

Richard supposed it would have been too much to hope that Christiana would suddenly relax, and say, “Oh that’s all right then, let’s go to my room and finish what we started.” But really, his still aching manhood would have been grateful for it. However, instead her eyes narrowed suspiciously and there was a sudden pinched look about her lips that assured him explanations were in order.

He ran a weary hand through his hair and said, “A little over a year ago I returned home to the sound of a muffled scream from the rooms above stairs. I rushed up to see what was about and found my valet struggling with four attackers. Unfortunately, I was too late to aid him. Even as I reached my room, one of them slit Robbie’s throat and let him drop on the bed to die. I had grabbed up a bust from the entry on the way upstairs and brought it down on the skull of the man who had killed Robbie. I think it killed him instantly. Even so, there were still three men to my one and after a bit of a struggle they managed to subdue me.

“The only reason they didn’t kill me outright was that George wanted me to know that he was the one who had hired them. He was staying with me at the time and my body was to be found, burned beyond recognition in his bed. It would be assumed that it was he who was dead and he could simply step into my place and become the Earl of Radnor. He would claim my name, the title, the lands and wealth that had been denied him simply because he was born three minutes after me. He wanted me to die knowing I had been killed by my own brother.” Richard’s mouth twisted bitterly as he recalled the sense of betrayal he’d felt that night. While the two of them hadn’t been close for years, he’d still reeled under the news that his brother could hate him so much. Now he glanced toward the man in the bed and forced himself to continue. “That nasty streak in him is what saved my life. Not killing me outright gave me the chance to barter for my life. I had an iron chest hidden behind a false wall of the townhouse. No one knew about it but me and I offered it to them in exchange for my life.”

His gaze slid back to Christiana to see that while she still looked wary, she was listening and that was something. “At first, I didn’t think they would take the deal. The man I’d killed had been a friend to one of them and he wanted to just kill me . . . after beating the whereabouts of the chest out of me, of course. The second fellow was greedy, he wanted to let me live, keep me tied up somewhere until they could get the money George had agreed to pay them and then let me go and watch the chaos that followed when I came forward with the news that George had tried to have me killed . . . I gather he didn’t like my brother much.” He waited for her to nod or otherwise acknowledge what he’d said, but Christiana merely stared at him waiting, so he continued.

“The third fellow was the brightest of the bunch. He didn’t think that even a beating would get them the location of the chest, especially since I knew they would just kill me afterward. But he also didn’t want word getting out that they’d welsh on a deal as it might affect their getting future jobs. So, he suggested a compromise. They would let me live, and take me and the iron chest to the ship they worked on. It was setting sail for America the next day, where they would trade me to the Indians as a slave in exchange for some furs they could then sell off. They would more than treble the money they’d expected to get from George for just killing me.

“It took a bit of persuasion for the friend of the dead attacker, but in the end his greed won out and they all agreed to the plan. I wasn’t too pleased about the being traded to the Indians part of the plan, but I would be alive and alive was better than dead so I told them where the false wall was, and how to open it, as well as the iron chest, and then they bound and gagged me. They dumped me in the back of a cart, set the townhouse on fire and drove to the prearranged meeting spot where George was to pay them.” He glanced toward his brother again. “I heard it all. He wanted to know every moment of the night’s events, wanted to know if I’d begged for my life, how crushed I’d been by my valet’s death . . . He seemed to take delight in the idea that I’d suffered.”

Richard shook his head with disgust. He’d never imagined his brother had hated him so much. “Once they had satisfied his morbid curiosity and gained their pay, the men took me to the docks and dumped me in the hold of a ship. I stayed there for what seemed like forever.”

He closed his eyes at the memory of what had turned out to be one long, dark hellish journey for him. They’d kept him bound the entire trip and only removed the gag to give him food and water. Days had sometimes passed between feedings and the journey had seemed unending. By the time it did end, Richard had been half dead, weak and feverish, his wrists and ankles a mass of infected sores from the chafing of the ropes binding him. Uncaring of that, his three captors had dragged him from the hold, thrown him over the back of a horse and ridden out to try to trade him as a slave to Indians in exchange for furs. However, in the shape he was in, no one had been willing to trade anything for him. Finally his captors had simply pushed him off the horse, and then ridden off.

“They just left you there to die? After you’d given them your iron chest?” Christiana asked with outrage. “How did you survive?”

Richard blinked his eyes open, saw Christiana’s upset expression and realized he’d been speaking the memories aloud as he’d recalled them. Clearing his throat, he shrugged. “I was fortunate enough that a farmer named Teddy McCormick found me. He put me in the back of his cart and took me to his farm. He and his wife, Hazel, both took care of me. They saved my life.” He smiled at the memory of the couple.

“The moment I was well enough I wrote a letter to Daniel explaining all. I had no family except for George,” he explained quietly. “And Daniel was my closest friend.”

This time when he paused to look at her, Christiana nodded solemnly. She was aware of his lack of family, of course. She’d been married to his brother this last year. Well, sort of, Richard thought to himself, relieved to note that she was also looking much less suspicious and frightened. She believed him.

“I stayed with Teddy and Hazel and worked the farm with them to pay them back for their trouble in saving me, and waited what seemed like forever to receive a reply. It was almost a year to the day since the attack in my townhouse when who should ride up to the farm but Daniel.”

Richard smiled at the memory, recalling his shock and joy on seeing him. “I’d expected him just to purchase me passage on a ship or send someone to fetch me, but he got on a ship and came after me himself. He brought clothes for me and had a ship waiting to bring us back to England.”

“Us? The McCormicks too?” Christiana asked.

“What?” he asked with surprise. “Oh, no. They were happy on their farm, but I had Daniel leave some money with them for all their trouble.” He frowned now and added, “Which reminds me I have to pay him back. What with everything that’s happened since our return I haven’t got around to that yet.”

“And exactly what is everything that’s happened?” Christiana asked quietly. “How long have you been back in England?”

“Ah.” Richard managed a crooked smile. “We arrived in port yesterday morning.”

Christiana suddenly moved over to the bed to drop to sit on the edge of it. The action seemed to suggest her legs would no longer hold her up, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking from her expression.

“Daniel and I had decided that the best way to handle the situation was to confront George at the Landon ball. As the season opener, it would be attended by nearly everyone in the ton and the plan was to surprise a confession out of him.”

“Except he was dead,” she said quietly.

“Yes, and he was married to you, which put a wrinkle in our plans,” Richard said quietly.

Christiana blinked at him in surprise. “Why did that put a wrinkle in them?”

“Because George had escaped justice by dying. It was only you and your sisters who would suffer in the scandal that would ensue if I revealed what he’d done, and the three of you are innocents.”

Christiana was staring at him now as if he were some exotic creature she’d never encountered before. Uncomfortable under that steady, odd gaze, he added, “So when Daniel suggested that I simply step back into my life as if George had never stolen it from me . . . well, the truth is that I hesitated. I didn’t wish to hurt you or your sisters, but on the other hand, I didn’t know you and didn’t wish to be punished further by his actions either. So we decided to remove George and hide him away for a couple of days while I saw if you and I would deal well together.”

Christiana stood up abruptly, her face suddenly florid and Richard realized she’d taken what he’d said the entirely wrong way, thinking he’d meant whether they suited each other in bed. “Not
that
way,” he assured her quickly. “Last night was wholly unexpected. In fact, if you’ll recall I was trying to stop you from undressing me. It was you who was so determined to get my clothes off.”

“I was trying to see your strawberry,” she snapped and then narrowed her eyes. “Speaking of which, I should like to see it now.”

“My strawberry?” he asked blankly and peered down at his groin. It had been his pants she’d been so determined to remove last night as he recalled, but no one had ever called his manhood a strawberry before. In fact, he thought he might be insulted if that was what she was referring to.

“On your bottom,” she said, her irritation of a moment ago seeming to transform into a mix of exasperation and embarrassment. “Richard Fairgrave is supposed to have a strawberry-shaped birthmark on his behind. I should like to see it, please.”

“Oh.” Richard relaxed and even grinned. “No one has ever said to me that it was strawberry-shaped.”

She merely arched an eyebrow, apparently unwilling to be put off from seeing it. He supposed he couldn’t blame her really. She’d been married to who she’d thought was Richard Fairgrave this last year and now he was telling her it had really been his brother George. He supposed it was reasonable for her to want proof of who was who. Sighing inwardly, he grimaced, turned his back to her, undid his trousers and dropped them.

Christiana simply stood there gaping at Richard for a moment, completely taken aback. She supposed she shouldn’t be so surprised, she’d asked to see his bottom to check for the strawberry, but really she’d expected something of an argument perhaps, or a little modesty, but the way he’d simply dropped his drawers suggested there was very little modesty in the man.

“Well?” Richard asked impatiently.

Swallowing, Christiana took a tentative step closer to him and forced herself to focus on his bare derriere, but then frowned. The man was standing near the door about as far away from the light cast by the window as possible. He also happened to be standing in the bed’s shadow. “I . . . erm . . . it’s too dark. I can’t see.”

Richard clucked impatiently and turned around to make his way across the room. With his pants around his ankles it wasn’t a fast maneuver and watching him duck march around the bed toward the window with his family jewels hanging out and swinging to and fro under his frock coat was really quite the most ridiculous thing she thought she’d ever seen.

“There. Is this better?” he asked, pausing beside the window and turning so that he was sideways to it.

Christiana cleared her throat to remove the laughter lodged there and made herself follow him across the room. She then bent and peered at his behind.

“Oh! There it is,” she said, reaching out to brush a finger over the mark. It was a pale red or dark pink-colored splotch on his left butt cheek as Langley had said. “It’s not really a strawberry though, is it? It’s more the shape of a rosebud. Langley said it was—”

“My lady? Your sisters are— Oh, dear Lord.”

Christiana straightened abruptly and turned toward the connecting door that she’d left open and Daniel hadn’t closed. Grace now stood in the entrance, eyes wide as she took in the portrait of the two of them by the window. A moment of silence passed as Christiana tried to think of something to say and then the maid started to withdraw, mumbling an apology that died abruptly as she spotted the body on the bed. Her gaze slid from the body in the bed to the man behind Christiana and back and she breathed, “Oh, dear Lord,” again.

“I can explain everything,” Christiana said at once, and hurried toward the woman. Hearing a resigned sigh and the rustle of clothing behind her, she glanced over her shoulder to see Richard looking exasperated as he pulled up his pants and did them up. She supposed between her discovering the body, her demand to see his bottom and Grace’s discovering the body, the man was having something of a difficult morning. Christiana could sympathize, she’d been having a difficult year and it didn’t look as if things were going to get any easier in the near future.

Chapter Eleven

S
o,” Grace said the moment Christiana finished her explanations and fell silent. “Your marriage to Dicky-George wasn’t legal, because it was Richard Fairgrave, Earl of Radnor on the marital contract and George was just impersonating Richard when he signed the papers?”

“I think that’s probably true,” Christiana admitted.

“But you’ve now consummated that illegal marriage to Dicky-George with Dicky-Richard . . . Does that make the marriage to Dicky-Richard legal now? Or . . .” Grace let the words trail off, but then she didn’t have to say it, Christiana knew what she was asking. Was she now legally married to Richard or was she a fallen woman in a sham of a marriage with a dead man who hadn’t been who he claimed to be?

Really, Christiana thought, she’d believed she had problems when Richard had come walking into the ball and she’d thought Dicky resurrected, but it just kept getting more and more complicated, the problems mounting up one atop the other. Clearing her throat, she said, “I do not think so, though Richard may let it stand. He wishes to see how well we deal together before he decides.”

Grace snorted with disgust. “He apparently felt you dealt well enough together last night when he consummated the marriage his brother got him into.”

“Yes, well, that may have been my fault,” Christiana admitted, flushing hotly. “I was trying to see his strawberry and . . . er . . .”

“And fell on his pole?” Grace asked dryly.

“Grace!” Christiana cried with shock.

“Well, listen to yourself trying to take the blame,” the maid said impatiently. “You were an untried girl ere last night, the blood on the sheets proves that. And you were inebriated as well.
And
you thought him your husband while
he
knew otherwise,” she added grimly. “You are the innocent in this. It’s those two in the next room at fault for all that has occurred.”

“She’s right.”

Christiana swung around to see a grim-faced Richard in the connecting doorway to the master bedroom. He’d agreed to wait in the master bedroom while she explained the situation to Grace, but had apparently grown impatient. Christiana bit her lip as he now crossed the room toward them, worried that he might take Grace to task for what some would consider overstepping in even asking questions. However, Grace had been a member of her household all her life. While she was her maid, she was also like family to her. Christiana loved the older woman, and knew that love and caring was returned. It was the only reason the woman felt she could be so free with her tongue.

Fortunately, Richard seemed to understand that and gave Grace a nod of respect. “You are right. I am the one who decided last night that I would let the marriage stand.” He turned to Christiana. “I had no idea you were still a virgin at the time, but I did know the marriage probably wasn’t legal and that you were somewhat the worse for drink. I never should have allowed the situation to progress as it did.”

Christiana stared at him wide-eyed. Dicky had never taken responsibility for his actions or faults. He had always blamed any mistake made or insult given on someone else, usually her. As far as she could tell he’d blamed her for everything from his stumbling over his own feet to the rain falling.

“Well, what are you going to do about it, my lord?” Grace asked abruptly when Christiana just continued to stare at the man.

“We shall have another ceremony to ensure it is legal,” he announced solemnly. “We can tell everyone we wish to renew our vows to explain the need for it.”

“Well, thank God for that.” Grace stood abruptly and headed for the door. “I’d best go down and tell Langley and Lisa you are fine.”

“Tell them she’s fine?” Richard asked with a frown.

Grace nodded. “You’ve been up here a long time. Young Robert was worried, so I offered to check and be sure she was all right and report back.”

Christiana saw a shaft of irritation flash across Richard’s face, but he merely grunted and waited for the maid to leave. The moment the door closed behind her, he glanced to Christiana and gave a wry, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t ask if you were willing to allow the marriage to stand. Are you willing? Will you marry me?”

She blinked in surprise, both at the apology and his comment. Christiana wasn’t used to such consideration. Besides, it wasn’t as if she had much choice in the matter. They had already consummated the marriage, legal or not.

Apparently taking her hesitation for reluctance, Richard knelt before her and took her hands in his. “I have heard enough to realize the last year with George has been hard. But I promise you I am not like him. I will be a good husband to you. I will—”

Christiana brought his words to an end by covering his mouth with her hand. When he frowned around her fingers and raised his eyebrows, she sighed and said, “Dicky made—I mean George. George made me many promises before we married about the wonderful husband he would be and the glorious life we would have together . . . and he broke every one. I would rather you not make promises, my lord. Lies are easily spoken. Actions are really more telling.”

“Very well. No promises,” Richard agreed when she let her hand drop away from his mouth. “But you haven’t answered my question. Do you wish to let the marriage stand and hold the ceremony again?”

Christiana smiled wryly at the question. His first questions,
Are you willing?
And
Will you marry me?
would have been easier to answer. She had little choice really if she wished to avoid scandal. But his
Do you
wish
to let the marriage stand and hold the ceremony again?
was much more complicated. Christiana was so confused at that point she didn’t know what she wished for. Certainly Richard
seemed
much nicer than George, but despite what they had done in this room last night he was virtually a stranger to her, and George had seemed nice prior to the wedding as well. How was she to know if Richard might not turn into a controlling and critical monster the moment the vows were repeated as well? She couldn’t, and was afraid to trust that he wouldn’t and be hurt again as she had by George, for truly that had been the worst thing about the way he’d treated her, her sense of betrayal and hurt that the man who had claimed to love her had then treated her so cruelly.

At least she would have the nights to look forward to this time
, some part of her mind pointed out and Christiana glanced away from Richard with a blush at the thought. It was no small consolation. Her memories of the pleasure they’d shared were vivid and glorious. Christiana supposed she would just have to hope that was not the only good part of their marriage, that he was kinder and showed her more respect and consideration than George had. Even a modicum of either behavior would make it bearable if she had those passionate nights too.

Clearing her throat, she forced herself to meet his gaze again and nodded solemnly. “Very well. The marriage will stand so long as we have another ceremony.” She swallowed and then added quietly, “Thank you.”

Richard shook his head. “Do not thank me. I do not want you to feel I have sacrificed myself and done you some great honor by standing behind the marriage. This does not just make things easier for you, but for me as well.” He squeezed her hand and added, “And I have high hopes that we will deal well with each other and in time become good friends and partners.”

Christiana peered at him silently. Aside from the fact that he was trying to ensure she did not feel beholden to him, which seemed very kind to her, Richard also wasn’t making false claims of love and adoration or even like and attraction. He was being honest and stating exactly how the marriage would benefit him, and that he hoped for more in the future. Before she’d met George the very unflowery words would have upset her; now they made her relax and want to smile. She had learned her lesson well and would take truth over empty lies any day.

“All right?” he asked when she continued to stare at him silently.

Christiana managed a small, sincere smile and nodded. “All right.”

“Good.” He smiled widely and stood, pulling her to her feet with him. “Now, come along. We should join your sisters and Langley before he comes charging up here to rescue you.”

He said the words teasingly enough, but with a slight edge that made her wonder. However, it suddenly occurred to Christiana that she hadn’t told him about Langley’s suspicions.

“He thinks you are George,” she blurted as he began to urge her out of the room.

Richard drew her to a halt, his gaze sharp as he asked, “He does?”

She nodded and quickly explained the conversation she’d had with Robert the night before. When she finished, they were both silent as Richard digested what he’d learned.

“I see,” he said finally as he took her arm to walk her along the hall. “That explains a lot of his behavior, and I suppose I should have wondered how you knew about my birthmark. It’s not common knowledge.” He was silent as they descended the stairs, but at the bottom he paused, and turned her to face him. “Do you trust Robert?”

Her eyebrows flew up at the question. It seemed to suggest he would trust her judgment in this very serious matter, which definitely made a nice change from George, who hadn’t even trusted her judgment in the day to day running of the house or the choosing of clothes.

“Yes,” she said simply. “He is like family.”

Richard nodded. “Then I shall take him aside and explain matters to him.”

Christiana felt something unclench the slightest bit around her heart. She also felt the sting of tears in her eyes and turned away from Richard before he could see them. She didn’t know where they were coming from anyway. It was foolish to want to cry with gratitude just because he was being both kind and apparently respecting her opinion. Ridiculous. Pathetic, really, she decided with self-disgust.

“There you are! I thought I heard voices out here.”

Christiana glanced around to see Robert Maitland standing several feet away, in the parlor door. Grateful for the distraction he offered, she beamed a smile on the man, but her smile dimmed when she noted Lisa behind him. The displeasure on her youngest sister’s face had her eyebrows rising, but then she glanced back to Robert as he spoke again.

“The tea is growing cold. You should really come join us,” he said firmly.

“Actually, Langley, if you don’t mind, I need to have a word with you first,” Richard said, taking Christiana’s arm and urging her up the hall toward the other man.

“Oh?” Langley narrowed his eyes and then glanced to Christiana.

Reading the silent question as to her well-being in his eyes, she smiled gently and said, “He has the strawberry. Though, it’s really more of a rosebud if you ask me, Robert.”

Langley didn’t comment, in fact he didn’t look any happier to know Richard was Richard and Christiana supposed it was because he worried she was now stuck in this marriage to a man who had been horrible to her the last year. Sighing, she reached out to squeeze his arm in passing and said, “ ’Tis all right. He’s not the man we thought he was. He’ll explain everything.”

Christiana then continued on into the parlor, leaving Richard to sort out Robert. She didn’t get far into the room, however; Lisa blocked her way and didn’t appear eager to move.

“Shall we sit and pour the tea while we wait for the men?” Christiana suggested uncertainly. When Lisa didn’t respond at once, but merely glared after Robert as he moved off with Richard, she asked, “Is something amiss?”

Lisa let her breath out on a small impatient, huff. “He’s just so . . . annoying.”

“Robert?” Christiana asked with surprise.

“Yes, him.” Lisa turned abruptly and stomped back to drop into a chair by the tea tray. “He wouldn’t stop worrying about you. From the minute you left he was watching the door like a hawk and then started asking where you were and even sent Grace to check on you. Good Lord, he was acting like Richard was some murderous fiend. He’s your husband. What did Robert think was going to happen to you?”

“Ah.” Christiana sat down on the sofa across from Lisa, unsure what to say. Part of her wanted to babble out all that had happened. However, she’d rather explain it to both sisters at the same time than have to do it twice, so merely said, “Robert is aware that things have not been ideal between Richard and myself this last year and is just worried.”

“Well, he worries too much about you,” she grumbled, unappeased.

Christiana’s eyebrows rose. Lisa actually sounded jealous and it made her wonder if the girl’s feelings for Langley weren’t more than just the sisterly type affections Christiana and Suzette felt for the man, but merely said, “He worries about all of us: you, me and Suzette. Speaking of Suzette,” she added with a frown. “Where is she?”

“Oh, she muttered something about changing her slippers and left shortly after you did,” Lisa said on a sigh.

“Oh.” Christiana glanced toward the door, wondering where the girl was . . . and where Daniel was as well. Lord Woodrow had left her and Richard upstairs some time ago and, she’d thought, joined everyone in the parlor, but it seemed not.

“We may as well drink the tea before it grows stone cold,” Lisa decided and began to pour.

Christiana murmured a thank-you as the younger girl handed her a cup.