Counterfeit Countess (11 page)

Considering the dowager had lost her sons, he would remember that, and allow her some leeway. Only when she crossed the line would he mention the fact. Because compassion was one thing, but he knew that if he gave her too much, she’d take it and a little extra, making it harder to regain ground. The damned footman could stay, even for family dinners, if she wanted that.

He exchanged a glance with Faith and realised his aggravation hadn’t transmitted to her. Her eyes were brimful of mirth. Her expression forced his mood away, so it disappeared in the face of her amusement. If the footman amused her, she would have him for every meal.

However, when they entered the drawing room, it became obvious they were not to dine
en famille
. A man stood to greet them, his head slightly bowed. Of moderate height, with smooth, dark hair brushed back tidily, no pretension to high fashion, and a modest mourning suit, John assessed him as a relative. After all, would her ladyship dine with a tradesman or a servant? She’d subjected him to her trenchant views on “Trade” before, so he doubted it.

“Ah, Graywood. Please allow me to introduce you to the estate’s man of business, Mr. Roker.” Right on cue, Mr. Roker bowed low.

“I hope you don’t object. Mr. Roker came to visit me to discuss my position now the earldom has changed and I took it upon myself to
80 |
Lynne Connolly

invite him to dinner.”

“This is your home, ma’am, you must feel free to ask whoever you wish to dinner.”
Just don’t expect me to attend every one,
he added silently.

Either the countess had wanted to ingratiate the man with him, or Roker had instigated the meeting himself. Rather than wait on John’s pleasure, until after he’d met with his own man, Roker seemed determined to get in first. John disliked being rushed.

Not a society meal, then. John knew Roker did not work exclusively for the Graywoods and while the earldom had much of his time, he had other accounts he dealt with. While he could not expect an invitation to a society dinner, sharing a meal with the family would be considered acceptable, by all but the highest sticklers. Even the King ate with his doctors. To be honest, he probably had little choice.

Instinct prickled the hairs at the back of his neck, and John had learned not to ignore that feeling. The times he’d done so, he’d lived to regret it. Even getting on that ship in Canada he’d felt it, and he’d been right. He didn’t like Roker. However, he might prove a good financial manager. He would see what his own agent had to say tomorrow.

He broke the news during the first course. “I wish to hold a ball to introduce my wife to the people she needs to know,” he said smoothly as he helped himself to parsnips. “Early in the season.”

Roker’s eyes opened wider, revealing a bloodshot pupil. It didn’t appear that he was a drinker, but he must have had a lot to deal with since John had broken the news of the brothers’ deaths.

Sleepless nights, then. John felt a little better about the man, if he cared enough to do that. “My lord, I’m not sure that’s wise...”

“I am. If you could help to arrange it that would save me some trouble.” A polite way of saying, “Do it.” It meant the same thing and politeness cost nothing.

COUNTERFEIT COUNTESS | 81

“What’s that you say, Graywood?” the dowager said. Probably heard every word. No doubt had ears like a bat’s.

It annoyed him that he had to bellow from the other end of the table. “Lady Graywood, I wish to hold a ball to present my wife to society. I know you are in mourning, and I do not know if you consider it proper for you to emerge so soon.”

Louisa perked up, her cheekbones flushing pink and a light sparkling in her previously dull eyes. At twenty-two, she was too old for a come-out, but she still possessed the dew of youth. At twenty-four, her older sister would lose it before long. He found them too shy, too uncomfortable and they needed to rectify that if they were to find husbands. Every time he’d tried to talk to them, they’d stared at him, making their eyes wider. They listened and agreed in a way that made him want to demand that they express opinions of their own.

Thankfully her ladyship took the bait. “We may have a gathering here. The rooms on this floor will accommodate a considerable number. At Charlotte’s debut we had two hundred in the rooms, and turned away fully a hundred more.”

“A triumph,” he said. “But do you consider it proper for you to attend?”

Her ladyship’s eyes sparkled. “As long as the girls wear muted colours and black armbands with no coloured jewellery, for that one night it would be unexceptional. It is your presentation.” Lady Graywood almost cracked a smile. “It would be considered unusual if we did not attend.”

He knew thath only too well. Society would consider it a family breach if they didn’t make a token appearance. Another hurdle overcome. “Thank you. I hardly dare ask, but could you help to arrange the affair?”

“I would be so grateful,” Faith put in, her voice quiet and conciliatory. “I have no experience at organising something of that nature.”

82 |
Lynne Connolly

“You have lived quietly,” the countess agreed, her manner condescending. “Very well, for you, Faith, I will do my utmost.”

He loved the way Faith said, “We should invite some younger men, so the girls do not become bored.” Faith’s diplomatic skills obviously consisted of the more advanced variety. Briefly, he covered her hand with his, then moved on to assist her to a dish of buttered mushrooms he couldn’t help but notice she had a partiality for.

They’d concocted a perfect bribe for the dowager. She would have to remain in mourning for most of the season. However a ball to introduce the new Earl of Graywood to the ton wouldn’t raise any but the stiffest eyebrows, especially if they remained in half mourning. Almacks would have to wait, as would appearances at the theatre and other places of public amusement.

Faith, though, would not have to do that. The duties of countess would supersede those considerations. He wondered how she’d appear in a rich blue and decided he wanted to find out sooner rather than later, even if she could not wear colours in public. Of recent years, ladies were dressing in richer shades, instead of the washed-out pastels of his youth. More substantial stays were definitely coming back with a vengeance and the waistline was returning to a place closer to its natural form. He approved, because Faith’s dark hair and pale skin would suit such styles better than the high-waisted, ethereal fashion of previous years. Women tended to assume that men knew nothing of fashion. Which was largely true, but it was also true that men knew what they liked and were perfectly capable of memorising their preferences for future reference. If she lasted long enough to come out of mourning and into colours.

However, he had learned that he preferred Faith naked. An entirely different consideration, for he had also determined that nobody else would see her that way except her maid.

COUNTERFEIT COUNTESS | 83

Turning his thoughts reluctantly from the memory of her sweet breasts bobbing before his face as they had earlier, he put his attention to the meal. While he ate, the countess planned for the ball, which, Lady Graywood informed him, was better earlier in the season. “For you will wish to establish the acquaintances you need then, dear sir.” When had he become “Dear sir?” Oh yes, when he’d offered to hold a ball here. And pay for it, he presumed.

To that end, Mr. Roker seemed to require his attention urgently. He lent an ear. “The estate is still moving through probate,” Mr. Roker said. Ah, yes, it would be. “While we of course have a considerable sum set aside to defray necessary expenses, this affair will cost a great deal.”

“We have no credit?” He raised a brow. Some aristocrats he’d known in the past existed on credit alone, having run through much of their fortunes.

“N-naturally, my lord.” Roker gave him a doubtful glance and John nearly laughed aloud, because Roker’s thoughts were so obvious. The gleam in his eyes, the lines creasing his forehead spoke of a commendable concern.

“I don’t intend to run the estate into the ground,” he said. “I brought some finances of my own with me.”

Roker gave him a disbelieving stare. “Of course, my lord.”

Clearly he believed John’s finances not up to the wealth of the estate. John chose not to disabuse him.

Soon after the servants cleared the covers and they drank the health of the King, the Queen, the Regent and Princess Charlotte, the ladies retired. John breathed a sigh of relief, knowing the discussion about gowns and guests would probably continue for some time. Faith had continued in her diplomatic role, agreeing with the dowager and making a few mild suggestions. John would ensure that the decorations would suit her most. As his countess she should be the centre of attention. He wanted everyone to see what he did when he looked at her. But when he tried to define it,
84 |
Lynne Connolly

he found a lack of facility in his words, only vague descriptions.

He’d rescue her soon, but he felt the need for a snifter of brandy after the talk of toilettes and perfumes and flowers and God knew what else. He’d leave the arrangements to them. Give them the names of the few people he wanted to attend, mostly acquaintances from his youth.

Not the man sitting at table with him tonight. “We may as well discuss our business,” he said. “The ladies will keep at it for hours. I don’t suppose you have any more idea than I do of the difference between
soupir a rose
and
soufflé de champagne
.”

“I think they’re both pink,” Roker ventured, “Though I wouldn’t wager on knowing the difference.”

John grinned and got up, nodding his dismissal to the footman and unlocking the Tantalus to get to the brandy. The key was in the lock that made him wonder why they bothered with the item in the first place. Fashion, or did they trust all the servants implicitly?

He’d keep an eye on the spirits. He didn’t begrudge a few tots, but it was a good measure of the way a household was run as to how often they had to top up the spirits.

He took the brandy and a couple of the cut-glass tumblers he found next to it to the table. Roker accepted a small amount. “The news of the deaths of the previous earl and his brother shocked me exceedingly when I heard. I can only consider us fortunate that you remained to continue the title.”

“I liked the brothers,” John said. “I knew them as a boy and then we lost touch to a great extent after I joined the army. We didn’t move in the same circles.” Even if his rank had been equal to the brothers’, it would have been unlikely they’d have met except at the larger society events. Army circles and aristocratic circles didn’t always meet. Society consisted of different overlapping spheres of interest and influence, continuously engaged in a dance that some found satisfying, but bored others to tears. John thought they could count him in the latter group. He wasn’t looking forward to the
COUNTERFEIT COUNTESS | 85

social events he would have to attend, particularly when they had come out of mourning completely. “I was glad to renew our acquaintance, and devastated to lose them so soon after our reunion.”

“My lord, may I ask why both came to visit you in Canada?”

John raised a brow, deciding on the arrogant. That piece of information he would keep to himself or rather, he would not share with Roker. He’d answer up to a point. “Family business.” Then a thought struck him, a mild distortion of the truth. “Lady Graywood was anxious for me to marry, preferably one of her daughters to secure the succession. She sent her sons to me as soon as they discovered I was alive.”

Roker tutted. John ignored the disapproving sound. “If her younger son failed to remarry, and her other son continued in his refusal to enter that state, she wanted the next generation secured.”

In fact, he knew that Lady Graywood wanted him to sire children she could then commandeer, if necessary. It was one reason he’d refused to marry before then. He had no intention of allowing any child of his to go through the same suffering he had, studying dusty books that would have no relevance to his real life. Such was the improbability of the “Just in case.”

Well, the “Just in case” had happened. Here he was, so it was as well he’d discovered he had a flair for business and had prospered. A year trapping bear and beaver and a week to realise that the real money didn’t lie there, but in the centres of commerce. Although he’d enjoyed his year in the wilderness, having time to think and plan, his return to civilisation hadn’t been without its merits, either.

Except that Halifax had its share of matchmaking mamas, too.

London did not have the monopoly on that.

The brothers had wanted him to find a bride, that was true, but they had other information to divulge to him. Suspicions only, but he appreciated their concern. He’d intended to do a little investigation of his own when he arrived in London.

86 |
Lynne Connolly

Which had gone up in smoke when the Earl of Graywood and his brother had died. Although that had changed everything drastically, he still meant to investigate their suspicions. They’d probably amount to nothing but John believed in checking and rechecking the facts before he came to a decision. “It surprised me to discover I had a wife,” he confessed. That was true enough.

“Although I knew Faith before my memory failed me. She told me that we married shortly after the death of her first husband, when I promised to take care of her.”

“We will need the relevant documents for the family archive,”

Roker said. “If a question should arrive in future years...”

“Heirs, yes, I understand. The documents, or legal copies, will be conveyed to you.” If he decided to create any by whisking Faith off to the first church that agreed to do the deed. He’d tell Roker the first marriage was irregular. Not now, because he suspected Roker worked hand in glove with the dowager, who would still be delighted to see one of her daughters become the Countess of Graywood. He’d announce it to his man of business when they’d done the deed, and not before.