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Authors: Lynsay Sands

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BOOK: The Countess
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“But surely those horrid novels Lisa reads do not—”

“Nay, not most of them, but—” Suzette paused to glance around and then ushered her into the nearest room, Richard’s office. She closed the door and urged Christiana over to the chairs by the fire before admitting, “Lisa received one recently that was about a young girl named Fanny who runs away to London and becomes a prostitute and it was . . . er . . . quite informative.”

“And you and Lisa
read
this?” she cried with dismay. When Suzette reddened but nodded, she asked, “Does Father know?”

Suzette snorted. “No, of course not. He hasn’t known much of anything ever since the first gambling incident. He has mostly stayed locked in his office, hiding from his shame since you left with Dicky the day after the wedding.” She scowled briefly, but then glanced to Christiana and pleaded, “Don’t say anything to him. And don’t say anything to Lisa either. ’Tis a banned book, and she made me swear not to tell anyone about it.”

“If ’tis banned, how did she get it?” Christiana asked grimly.

“I am not sure,” Suzette admitted. “She won’t tell me. But I think she got it from Mrs. Morgan.”

Christiana didn’t recognize the name. “Who is Mrs. Morgan?”

“A widow whose carriage broke down by the estate on her way to London,” Suzette explained. “Father invited her in for tea while the men looked at it for her. Of course, then he left us to entertain her,” she added bitterly.

“And this Mrs. Morgan gave Lisa the book then?” Christiana asked.

Suzette shook her head. “Her carriage was beyond the men’s ability to repair and had to be taken into the village. Mrs. Morgan stayed at the inn for nearly a week while it was repaired and Lisa visited her there every day. They became quite friendly and I guess before she left for London, Mrs. Morgan gave her the book as a thank-you gift for keeping her company.”

“Dear God,” Christiana growled. “What kind of woman gives a banned book like that to an unmarried girl?”

“Mrs. Morgan is very forward thinking,” Suzette said with a shrug. “She believes women should have more rights and freedoms of our own rather than be ruled by our fathers and husbands. Besides, Lisa is nearly twenty, Christiana. She is not a child anymore, and should already have had her debut and be settled with a husband and starting on children.”

Christiana didn’t argue the point. Their father had been lax in seeing to their future. But then she and her sisters hadn’t been pushing to have their debuts. They’d all simply been content as they were, each uneager to leave their childhood home and loved ones for an unknown husband. Although, Christiana
had
been contemplating doing so more and more the last year before marrying Dicky. She had begun to think she wanted children, which meant a London season to choose a husband, and she probably would have soon broached the subject with her father had the supposed ruination at the gambling table not forced the marriage to Dicky.

That thought made her recall what Richard had said about the gaming hell and the rumors about what went on there and she asked, “Father has been punishing himself for what happened and my having to marry Dicky?”

“Yes, and so he should,” Suzette said grimly. “I was actually feeling sorry for him, but then he went and did it again.”

“That may not be true,” Christiana said quietly. “He may not have gambled at all.”

“What?” Suzette glanced at her sharply.

“Richard said there are rumors that Dicky had befriended a certain owner of a gaming hell reputed to drug its patrons and fleece them. He suspects it’s possible that is what happened to Father.”

Suzette’s breath left her on a whoosh, making Christiana’s eyebrows raise. Before she could ask what had caused it, Suzette said, “When we found him at the townhouse, Father kept saying he was sorry, and he didn’t know how it had happened, that his memories were a jumble and he didn’t even recall how he’d ended up at the gaming hell, just waking up there both times to learn he’d gambled us into ruin.”

Christiana sighed. “He probably didn’t gamble at all.”

“Oh God,” Suzette moaned and dropped back against the chair unhappily. “I was so cruel to him the morning we arrived in London. I said some awful things.”

“It is understandable under the circumstances,” Christiana said quietly. “How were you to know Dicky may have drugged him to bring about his downfall?”

“Damn Dicky,” Suzette burst out furiously, sitting upright again. “If he weren’t already dead, I think I’d kill him myself.”

“Hmm,” Christiana murmured, and then bit her lip and pointed out, “Although, if it weren’t for Dicky and what he’d got up to I wouldn’t now be married to Richard and you might never have met and proposed to Daniel.”

“That’s true.” Suzette frowned, some of her anger easing from her expression, and then she glanced to Christiana and asked, “So you are content with Richard?”

“I think we might have a good marriage,” she said cautiously, and much to her surprise Suzette snorted at the tame words.

“Oh, give over,” she said with disgust. “A
good
marriage? I’ve heard the moaning and groaning coming from your room, both the night Dicky died and last night as well.
Oh Richard, oh . . . oh . . . yes . . . ooooooh
,” she mimicked with amusement. “Then you scream like you’re fit to die.”

Christiana blushed furiously. “You could hear us?”

“I’m sure the whole house can hear you,” she said dryly. “He roars like a lion, and you squeal like a stuck pig.” She paused and then added thoughtfully, “Which I suppose is an apt description from what I read in Fanny’s book. Did it hurt very much the first time he stuck his maypole in your tender parts?”

“His
maypole
?” Christiana gasped with disbelief.

“That’s what Fanny called it. Well one of the things,” she added thoughtfully, and then repeated, “Did it hurt?”

Christiana groaned and covered her face, mortified by the entire conversation.

“Well?” Suzette persisted.

“A little perhaps,” Christiana said finally, forcing her hands away and straightening in her seat.

“Hmm, Fanny fainted from the pain,” Suzette muttered. “And there was a great deal of blood, which suggests pain as well.”

Christiana grimaced and decided a change of subject was in order. “Anyway, what happens in the bedroom is only a portion of marriage, Suzette. I must deal with him out of the bedroom as well and begin to think I may be able to.”

Suzette glanced to her curiously. “He seems to treat you much more kindly than Dicky did. And he upheld the marriage to prevent us all from being cast into scandal. I thought at first that he avoided scandal as well, but Lisa is right, men do not suffer scandal like we women do and he probably did uphold if for your sake, which is really very chivalrous. Much more chivalrous than Daniel’s marrying me for money.”

Christiana frowned slightly. Suzette’s last words sounded almost bitter and yet the girl had written the rules for this marriage herself, choosing to marry someone who needed money to ensure she was not trapped in a miserable marriage as Christiana had endured with Dicky. However, the marriage might not be necessary at all now, she realized, and frowned over the fact that she couldn’t say as much because she hadn’t yet spoken to Richard about his promise to make everything right. She really must remember when he returned, Christiana told herself firmly. Until then, she couldn’t say anything to Suzette, at least nothing certain.

A deep sigh drew her attention back to Suzette.

Seeing the dissatisfaction on her face, she asked quietly, “Are you having second thoughts about marrying Daniel?” Biting her lip, she added, “Perhaps Richard would be willing to cover Father’s gambling debts. If we even need to cover them. If we prove he was drugged and didn’t gamble at all—”

“Nay, ’tis fine,” Suzette said quickly. “I doubt it would be that easy to prove and we have enough on our plate at the moment. Speaking of which, we should really get back to our task. Who have we not yet talked to?”

Christiana hesitated, but then decided to let her change the subject. They really did have to continue with their task. “I think we have spoken to all the maids and footmen. That leaves Haversham, Cook, Richard’s valet—”

“I thought his valet died in the fire where Richard was supposed to have died?” Suzette interrupted.

“Yes, of course, I meant Dicky’s valet. I guess he will have to be Richard’s now though. Well, once he recovers from his illness.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Suzette asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’d like to think Georgina knows me well enough that she would know in an instant if someone tried to take my place, even if they were my twin.”

“I’m sure Grace would realize at once too, if a twin tried to take my place, or at least rather quickly.” She frowned. “In fact, that’s why George ordered Richard’s valet to be murdered. He feared the man would know that he wasn’t Richard.”

“Well there you are,” Suzette said quietly. “It’s just as likely that George’s valet will notice something amiss with Richard and suspect he isn’t the master he has served this last year.”

“Twenty years,” Christiana corrected and when Suzette raised her eyebrows in question, she explained thoughtfully, “Dicky once said that Freddy had been with him for twenty years, they pretty much grew up together.”

“Hmm.” Suzette grimaced. “Then Richard definitely wouldn’t be able to fool him.”

“No,” she agreed grimly. “And George wouldn’t have been able to fool him into thinking he was really Richard.”

Suzette’s eyes widened with realization. “Freddy had to know what George had done.”

“Yes. He could be the blackmailer,” she exclaimed with excitement, and then just as swiftly shook her head. “But he has been ill since the day you and Lisa arrived and hasn’t been to assist Dicky-George since, so can’t yet know he’s now Richard again.”

“Are you sure about that?” Suzette asked.

“That he’s sick?” Christiana asked with surprise. “Haversham told us Freddy was ill when he caught us with Dicky in the rug. Why would he lie?”

“I’m not suggesting he lied,” Suzette said. “But just because this Freddy is ill doesn’t necessarily mean he has been confined to bed all this time. Maybe he has been up and saw or heard something that made him realize Richard was back and George gone.”

Christiana sank back in her chair with a frown. What Suzette suggested was more than possible. Ill or not, Freddy would have to get up to eat and drink and tend to other functions. Cook was busy enough she probably wouldn’t tend to him like an ill child unless he was at death’s door, and Haversham had not suggested the ailment was that desperate. The man probably had been up and about and while it was most likely that he’d stuck to the back of the house, it was possible he had seen Richard at some point or other. He may even have gone in search of Dicky to explain his illness and seen him then, though Richard hadn’t mentioned seeing the man. But then Freddy could have seen Richard without his even noticing. Servants, at least the good ones, could go about their business in an unobtrusive way that ensured their presence went without note.

Nodding, she stood up abruptly. “You’re right, and it’s certainly worth checking into at least. I will ask Haversham to send him to us. He will be our next interview.”

Suzette nodded. “I have a good feeling about this.”

Christiana too thought they may have struck on something with Freddy. She didn’t think for a minute that he might be the servant who had poisoned Dicky-George. The man had always been obsequious and toadying with Dicky. But she was suddenly almost positive that he might be their blackmailer.

The hall was empty when Christiana stepped into it and she started toward the kitchen, glancing into each room in search of Haversham as she went. The man usually appeared the moment she stepped into the hall. Actually, she suspected he was usually hanging about listening at doors. It appeared he wasn’t today, however, and she didn’t see him in any of the main-floor rooms. Frowning, she made her way into the kitchen, but he wasn’t there either.

Giving up on the man, she asked one of the kitchen girls where Freddy’s room was and then went to fetch the man herself. She’d intended to simply knock on his door and request that he come join her and Suzette in the office, however when she arrived at the room she’d been directed to, she found the door ajar. After a hesitation, she pushed it open, calling out, “Freddy?”

There was no answer and no one in the room, she saw as the door swung open. The bed was also made with no sign that a sick man had just risen from it. Frowning, Christiana turned to leave, but paused with a start when she found the man in question standing behind her.

“Oh, Freddy! You gave me a start. I was just going to ask you to come to the office for a minute,” she said nervously, one hand at her throat.

“Yes, I know,” Freddy said grimly, moving forward.

Christiana stepped back to avoid his running her down, but paused abruptly as she realized that she was moving further into the room. Not comfortable, she started to move around him then, suddenly desperate to get back out into the hall, but Freddy quickly blocked her exit, slammed the door closed and locked it with a definitive click.

BOOK: The Countess
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