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Authors: Lynsay Sands

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BOOK: The Countess
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“I—Oh,” she paused as he nipped at her ear, and then said a little shakily, “I think . . .”

“What do you think?” he asked, nipping at her ear again and enjoying the shudder it sent through her. It made him grow even harder.

“I think the music has stopped,” she managed to get out in a strangled tone even as her hands tightened on his hand and shoulder.

Richard stilled, released the earlobe he’d captured between his teeth, and then straightened to glance around. The music had indeed stopped and most of the dancers had left the dance floor while others were still flowing past them to leave it as well. His gaze shifted back to Christiana, noting how flushed she was and the way she was nibbling at her lips. She hadn’t pulled free of his embrace, however, and he had a sudden urge to nibble on those lips himself, so was about to suggest again that they go out on the balcony for some air when someone suddenly appeared beside them.

“I believe I was promised the next dance.”

Richard stared blankly at the man who had approached them. He recognized him at once. Robert Maitland, Lord Langley. They had attended school together and been friends then, though they’d drifted apart afterward. The way Langley was looking at him now, however, was not friendly at all.

“Oh, yes, I’d almost forgotten,” Christiana said in a voice that was high and strained and slipped from his arms to move to the man’s side. He almost caught her arm to stop her, but then refrained. If the man was on her card for the next dance, she would have to dance it with him. It was considered the height of rudeness to do otherwise.

Nodding stiffly, Richard stepped out of the way and merely watched as the couple moved a little further away on the dance floor. His eyes narrowed slightly as he noted how comfortable the woman appeared to be with Langley as she went into his arms for the dance. She was also smiling at the man with a combination of relief and what could only be described as affection. It made Richard wonder about their relationship. It also caused a small, surprising, pang of jealousy to slip through him. Ridiculous, he told himself as he turned to move off the dance floor. She was nothing to him. While he found himself wanting to protect her, that was all. Other than that, he didn’t even know her.

“You looked like you needed rescuing.”

Christiana smiled weakly and lifted her eyes to Robert as he moved her around the dance floor. He wasn’t wrong there. She had been falling under her husband’s spell, her body being assaulted by completely alien desires and wants. In fact, she’d been half a breath away from suggesting she did want to seek out the fresh air on the balcony after all when Robert had appeared. The problem was it hadn’t been fresh air she’d been hoping to find. Christiana had hoped Richard might take her in his arms and kiss her there. That drink she’d had was obviously having some strange effects on her. She’d never felt this way toward Dicky before, even on their wedding night.

“Yes, I rather did need rescuing. Thank you,” she murmured vaguely and glanced to where Richard now stood on the edge of the dance floor, following them with burning eyes. She thought she could actually feel a trail of warmth slide along her body as his eyes skated over her and quickly turned her head back to Robert as he spoke.

“I was surprised but happy to see that he finally let you attend a ball.”

Christiana didn’t comment. Dicky hadn’t exactly let her attend. However, she simply couldn’t explain the events of that day to him. She couldn’t even explain the events of the last few moments to herself. How had her general dislike and loathing of her husband turned to desire on the dance floor?

The combination of whiskey on an empty stomach and exhaustion from the day’s events must have conspired to confuse and befuddle her, she reasoned . . . and she
was
exhausted. It had been a very stressful day all told, and had simply grown more stressful when Dicky appeared here at the ball. Christiana had just begun to adjust to the fact that she was free of him and had enjoyed those precious hours of not worrying about what Dicky would say and do. Yet now here he was alive and well and she was suddenly attracted to him in a way she had never been before. Christiana hadn’t even felt this way toward him during their courting. She’d never once wanted him to kiss her or pull her close then as she’d wanted during the waltz. In fact, she had come to realize that her feelings for the man during their courting had been more of a child’s daydream than a woman’s wishes. The courting had been all hearts and flowers, leading to a child’s light fluffy dream of happy-ever-afters. However, the attraction she’d felt just now on the dance floor was much more raw and physical and left her bewildered and even a little scared. She had never experienced that with him before, but then while he had been ever charming before the marriage, he had never shown kindness and concern until now. There was something different about him tonight and she wondered to herself if his brush with death had somehow changed him. If perhaps that’s what he’d meant by things being different now.

“Chrissy, there is something different about Dicky.”

Christiana blinked and peered up at Robert with surprise. It was as if he’d read her thoughts.

Before she could say so, he added, “I have felt it for some time now. He’s not the man I attended school with.”

Christiana frowned. Robert wasn’t talking about his being different tonight then. “How so?”

“Did you know I have been to see you three times the last few months and he has turned me away each time?”

She grimaced apologetically, and admitted, “I only knew about two occasions and found out about those just this morning. I’m sorry. I hope you know I consider you like family and would never—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he interrupted. “The point is that the Richard Fairgrave I knew was nothing like the pompous ass who took such delight in sending me away. It was more like his brother, George.”

Her eyebrows rose at mention of her husband’s brother. George Fairgrave, the younger of the twin brothers by moments, had died in a fire just months before she had married Dicky. She tilted her head to the side and frowned. “Oh?”

Robert was silent for a moment, appearing uncomfortable, but finally met her gaze and asked uncomfortably, “Does he have a birthmark?”

Christiana raised her eyebrows. “Not that I’ve seen. Should he?”

He nodded grimly. “It’s a small strawberry on his left buttock.”

Her eyes widened and then she flushed. “Oh, well, he may have one then, but I have never seen him without clothes.”

“You have not seen him . . . ?” Robert’s voice died and he now flushed as well, as he apparently realized what he was asking.

Aware she was blushing furiously, Christiana glanced around to see if anyone was listening. Much to her relief Robert had steered them to a relatively open area on the dance floor and no one was near enough to hear. Still, she scowled and murmured, “I think we should change the subject. It really isn’t proper to discuss—”

“No it isn’t proper,” Robert agreed quietly. “And despite how close we have always been, I wouldn’t have brought it up, but it is very important. Please, trust me on that. If I am right, you could be in danger.”

She frowned at his words and glanced away, but then admitted, “He has simply never disrobed in front of me.”

“Not even on your wedding night?” he asked.

“On our wedding night he did not even take off his cravat,” she admitted with embarrassment and then with some annoyance said, “And you are not his wife so how did you see this birthmark?”

“A group of us used to go skinny-dipping in a nearby lake back at school. He and I were among that group,” he explained, and then asked gently, “He didn’t even take off his cravat?”

She shook her head with irritation. It felt like her face was on fire now and she’d really rather not discuss this. It just wasn’t done.

“And he hasn’t at any time since either?” Langley prodded.

“There hasn’t been an ‘any time since,’ ” Christiana admitted in little more than a whisper. That was her shame. Her husband found her so wanting that he had not visited her bed since her wedding night. She’d often wondered if she’d been terribly bad at it and that was why Dicky had suddenly gone cold on her and begun to treat her so poorly. Unfortunately, she hadn’t had her mother to explain the matter of the marital bed to her and had been completely ignorant of what to do or expect so had lain in bed, unmoving and practically not breathing until it was done. Fortunately, it had been quick. Perhaps had she known what to do things would have been different.

Or perhaps it would have been different had she experienced those feelings and sensations then that she’d had tonight while they were dancing, a little voice in her head spoke up. Christiana didn’t think she’d have lain holding her breath and unmoving had she felt even a little of what she had tonight in his arms. She’d wanted to touch and kiss and do all sorts of things to the man she’d danced with.

“Can you try to see if he has the birthmark?” Robert asked quietly, drawing her from her thoughts.

Christiana grimaced at the suggestion and admitted, “I’d really rather not.”

“You don’t have to actually . . . erm . . .” He hesitated and then said instead, “If you were to enter his room while he was dressing or undressing you could see if he has it without . . . er . . . an ‘any time since.’ ”

Christiana wrinkled her nose at the suggestion. Dicky did hate it when she entered any room he was in without gaining permission first.

“It is important,” Robert assured her.

She glanced to him silently, and then said, “You suspect he doesn’t have the birthmark, which suggests you believe he isn’t Dicky at all? You think Dicky is really George?”

Langley nodded apologetically. “I began to suspect it the first time I came to visit and he turned me away, but the second time just convinced me more.” He scowled and shook his head. “I could just kick myself for not being there when he was courting you. If it
is
George and I’d spent any time around him back then I would have known at once. I could have saved you from all this misery. I—”

“Your father was dying, Robert. Of course you spent those last weeks at his side. Never blame yourself for that, marrying Dicky was my choice,” she said firmly.

“Dicky,” Robert said the name with disgust. “Richard hated that name. George is the only one who called him that.”

Christiana frowned at this news. It was Richard, or the man they’d thought was Richard, who had insisted they all call him Dicky. She preferred Richard herself.

“George was always a pompous little ass,” Robert informed her grimly. “He was not well liked at school and was only ever included in things because he was Richard’s brother, which just made him act worse. He was envious of how well liked Richard was and bitter that as the older twin Richard would gain the title on their father’s death.” He sighed and then admitted quietly, “I suspect it was Richard who died in the fire and George just took his place.”

Christiana shook her head and pointed out, “But if it really was Richard who died in the fire, George had no need to impersonate him. He would have gained everything anyway.”

“That’s true, but . . .” Robert shook his head. “I suspect that wouldn’t have been enough for George. He would have still been George. Titled or not, and holding all the wealth or not wouldn’t have made anyone respect or like him better and I think he envied that most about his brother. Everyone liked and trusted Richard. Being heir to the title and estate never affected Richard. He was naturally kind and considerate and everyone knew and appreciated that.”

Those last words resonated through Christiana’s head. Richard was naturally kind and considerate and everyone knew and appreciated that . . . like she had on the dance floor just now. The man she’d just danced with had been surprisingly kind and considerate, and she had appreciated it. But he’d shown precious little of either attribute this last year. Was the man she’d married Richard Fairgrave, the Earl of Radnor, or his twin, George? And if it was George, what would that mean to her? Would their marriage be legal?

“Try to see if he has the birthmark,” Robert said quietly. “If he doesn’t, come to me at once no matter the hour. I shall handle everything after that.”

Christiana nodded unhappily and thought how much simpler life would be had her husband just had the good graces to stay dead . . . If he was her husband.

I
f you glare at her any harder she’s like to burst into flames.”

Richard glanced to the side at that comment from Daniel and scowled. “She is avoiding me by dancing with seemingly every man in the room.”

“Not every man,” Daniel said with amusement, and then proved he was aware of what had been going on by adding, “Just Langley and his chums. Langley is apparently a longtime family friend. No doubt he has enlisted his friends and associates to keep her away from you.”

“Why? I am her husband,” Richard pointed out dryly, and then added, “Or at least I am as far as they know.”

“That’s apparently why,” he explained wryly. “According to her sisters, I should be ashamed of claiming you as friend as you have treated her horribly.”

Richard raised his eyebrows and Daniel nodded.

“Apparently the best thing you have done for her was to drop dead. Both sisters bemoan your unexpected resurrection.”

“Hmmm.” Richard peered back to his “wife.” The music had ended and her present partner was leading her off the floor. He could see her tensing as she neared the edge of the dance floor and then she suddenly relaxed, a smile curving her lips as Langley stepped up to claim her for another dance. Apparently, he had run out of friends and was risking raised eyebrows by dancing with her for a second time. Gaze narrowing, Richard asked, “A family friend, huh?”

“Like a brother according to Suzette.”

Richard grunted and turned his attention back to his wife and Langley. The man was holding her at a respectable distance, but his protectiveness of her was obvious in the way he peered down at her and the gentleness of his hold. Like a brother or not, Langley was far too proprietary with another man’s wife. “Did you find out anything else?”

“You mean other than the fact that your brother apparently collapsed in his office this morning and is most likely dead?” Daniel asked dryly. “I should think that would be enough to concern you at the moment. If he is dead it complicates things somewhat.”

Richard managed to drag his attention away from “his wife” again as he considered the ramifications. He’d been rather looking forward to confronting his brother, forcing a confession from him and plowing a fist into his face. Actually, he’d planned to beat the man senseless for all he’d put him through, but that would be out of the question if he was dead.

“There may be some difficulty proving who you are if he’s dead,” Daniel pointed out, drawing a sharp look from Richard.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, this last year everyone has thought it was George who died in the townhouse fire. The man now apparently lying packed in ice in your room has been pretending to be you all that time. There will definitely be some confusion. They might think you are George, survived the fire, and are merely trying to claim to be Richard to ensure you inherit all without the necessity of waiting for his will to be validated. Or they might even decide you are merely your father’s byblow, fortunate enough to look like the twins, and greedily trying to claim their wealth and title now they are both dead. After all, George was supposedly buried over a year ago.”

Richard grimaced. The man buried in the family vault was one of the criminals who had been sent to kill him. The man had been about his height and size. Found on his bed and charred to a cinder, no one had been able to tell any different. They’d all just assumed it was him, but Richard knew different and removing the vermin from the family vault was only one of many things he wanted to do once installed safely back in his rightful place. If he managed to get there, he thought grimly.

“We shall have to prove your identity . . . somehow,” Daniel said in a tone that suggested he was concerned about their ability to do it. “And then there is the scandal that shall befall everyone. Lady Christiana married who she thought was Richard Fairgrave, the Earl of Radnor, over a year ago and has been living with him since that time.”

“But it wasn’t me,” Richard pointed out quietly.

“No. It was George, but he signed your name on the license and contract.”

Richard frowned. “The marriage wouldn’t be legal. She is married neither to myself nor George.”

“Exactly. The scandal shall surely be the ruin of her . . . as well as her sisters. They won’t escape it either . . . which is a true shame when they are already working so hard to avoid the scandal their father has tipped them into with his gambling.”

“Christiana mentioned something about that,” Richard said on a sigh, his gaze sliding back to the woman in Langley’s arms. “Suzette needs to find a husband quickly so she can claim her dower and save them from their father’s gaming debts. Christiana seemed to think I, or George, really, caused it all by taking their father to a gaming hell.”

“Hmmm.”

Something in his tone made Richard glance Daniel’s way again and he raised an eyebrow at his sour expression. “What?”

“After leaving the women, I took a moment to ask around before returning to you and there is some interesting gossip floating about.”

Richard narrowed his eyes. “What kind of gossip?”

“Apparently the Earl of Radnor has become quite chummy with a few unsavory characters about town; the owner of a certain gaming hell, for instance, one that is suspected of drugging the drinks of certain unwary lords and fleecing them of all that they own.”

“Christiana’s father?”

“That would be my guess. And it wouldn’t have been the first time. I suspect George was behind the first supposed losses as well, and did it deliberately to force the man to the edge of ruin so that he could offer for Christiana’s hand,” Daniel said grimly, and then explained. “Christiana and her sisters are the granddaughters of Lord Sefton.”

“Old moneybags?” Richard asked with surprise. The Baron had been rumored to be richer than the King.

Daniel nodded. “He apparently divided his estate into three parts and put it in trusts for the girls, to be turned over on their marriage. However, he arranged it all so that it would be a secret. He had no desire to have his granddaughters hunted by fortune seekers.”

“Then how do you know about it?” Richard asked dryly.

“Because Suzette just explained it to me,” he admitted with wry amusement.

Richard narrowed his eyes. “Why on earth would she do that when the two of you just met?”

“I’ll explain that later,” Daniel muttered, glancing away. “Right now, the important thing is that Suzette thinks Dicky somehow found out about the dower and married Christiana to get it.”

“I could see that being the case,” Richard said dryly.

“Really?” Daniel asked with a frown. “I did wonder, but he gained so much wealth when he got rid of you and took your place that he shouldn’t have needed to marry for more.”

“All the money in the world would not be enough for George,” Richard said grimly. “He always wanted more of everything. It was like he was trying to fill the hole where his soul should have been with things.” He scowled at the thought of his brother and then glanced back to Daniel and said, “I can see him having taken Christiana’s father to this shady gaming hell the first time to force him to the edge of ruin and gain her fortune, but why would he take him there again now? He had already married one sister. He couldn’t claim the dower of either of the others, and all he accomplished was possibly bringing scandal down on everyone. Christiana would not have avoided the scandal, which meant it would taint him as well. What profit is there in that?”

Daniel frowned and shook his head. “I have been wondering that myself, but have not yet come up with anything. He must have had some plan in mind, but I cannot see what it might have been.”

Richard scowled with displeasure at the mystery and glanced back to the woman in Langley’s arms. “So to reclaim my name and birthright I shall have to ruin a woman who has already been sorely mistreated by my brother.”

“And probably battle in court for months or even years to prove you are Richard Fairgrave, or a Fairgrave at all,” Daniel said quietly. “And then even if the courts eventually decide in your favor, there will still be those in the ton who think you an imposter.”

“Damn George,” Richard breathed wearily. “As usual, he has made one hell of a mess.”

“There is an alternative,” Daniel said tentatively.

Richard glanced at him narrowly. “Do not even suggest I forsake everything and slink back to America. While I have no desire to ruin Lady Christiana and her family, I also have no desire to give up my rightful title and place. It is all I have.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that,” Daniel assured him.

“Then what is the alternative?”

“You could simply take up your place again as if you’d never been away,” he said quietly.

“What?” Richard asked with amazement.

“Well, you cannot gain justice from George, he is apparently dead,” Daniel pointed out. “So, revealing what he did will only succeed in hurting innocents. Besides, by merely stepping in and taking up your position again, you can avoid a long drawn-out battle to prove you are who you are. It will be as if your stay in America never happened . . . except that it did and you would now have a wife.”

“A wife who hates me,” Richard muttered, his gaze returning to the woman in question. She was laughing at something Langley had said. With her face alight and softened by amusement she almost looked pretty, he decided, and recalled their dance. She hadn’t seemed to hate him by the end of the dance. In fact, he was quite sure if he’d managed to get her out on the balcony she wouldn’t have fought off his kisses.

“She hates George not you,” Daniel corrected quietly. “And who could blame her. The man was a bastard as we both well know. But you are a different kettle of fish. With a little time I suspect she will let go of that anger and come to trust you. The two of you might even make a good match of it.” He was silent for a moment and then added, “Whatever the case, it would make reclaiming your title and position that much easier and would prevent Christiana and her sisters from further hurt by your brother’s actions.”

Richard frowned. The suggestion was not without merit. He had no desire to destroy Christiana, nor did he wish a long drawn-out court battle simply to claim his own name. However, while there was a bit of hope in their response to each other on the dance floor, it was little to gamble his future on. He didn’t know the woman and was reluctant to take such a step blindly.

“What if it turns out she is a shrew?” he asked quietly. “Or a bitter ice maiden? Or a spoiled brat with whom I cannot bear to deal?”

“Hmm.” Daniel peered at the woman in question. “She does not seem to be any of those things, but then few reveal their true faces in public.” He considered the matter for a moment and then suggested. “Well, we could keep George’s body for a couple of days while you find out her true nature and if you find you cannot stomach the idea of being married to her, we can just drop George back in your bed to be found dead, and go the legal route after all.”

“George’s body.” Richard’s eyes widened as he recalled that little problem. Oddly enough, he hadn’t considered it when Daniel had first made the suggestion.

“Yes,” Daniel said dryly. “If you decide to take a day or two to find out, we shall have to be sure to leave before the ladies, make our way to your townhouse, and snatch his body from the bed before they see it is still there.”

“We should get it done now,” Richard announced and began making his way around the ballroom toward the doors.

“So, you’re going to give it a try?” Daniel asked, hurrying after him.

“What choice do I have? I would prefer not to ruin an innocent if I can help it, but I also don’t want to land myself in a miserable marriage just to make up for George’s sins. We’ll do as you suggested, and remove the body for the next day or two while I see if I could stomach being married to her. If not, we will replace him and go to the courts.”

“And if you find you are willing to be married to her?” Daniel asked. “What will we do with the body then?”

“I haven’t the foggiest notion,” Richard admitted dryly. “But we will worry about that if and when the time comes.”

“He just left with Woodrow.”

Christiana gave up searching the ballroom for Dicky and glanced back to Langley. “Did he?”

He nodded solemnly and then asked, “Will you be very upset if it turns out that Dicky is George?”

Christiana glanced away with a frown, those few moments in her husband’s arms on the dance floor the first thing to come into her mind. Any other memory of this last year would have had her saying, no she wouldn’t be upset at all, but that one . . . Sighing, she simply said, “The scandal will be horrendous.”

“Yes, well, we might be able to mitigate that,” Langley murmured as he turned her around the dance floor.

“How do you mean?”

Robert was silent for so long that she began to think that he wouldn’t answer, but apparently deciding it was unavoidable, he said reluctantly, “I knew one of George’s old mistresses and she said he could not . . .” He paused and looked embarrassed, but then said, “I am sorry to ask this, Chrissy, but was the marriage properly consummated?”

Christiana’s eyes widened incredulously at the question and he grimaced and began to speak quickly.

“I really am sorry to ask it, but if George was incapable of the task as his mistress suggested, then it makes all the difference in the world.”

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