Once Upon an Accident 01 - The Accidental Countess (18 page)

Disgust curled in his stomach, upsetting the contents. He swallowed, trying to keep the bile from rising to his throat. Jasper had never killed a woman, never even thought of it. His mother would be so very ashamed of him. And then there were the feelings. Someone was always watching him; he knew that.

His employer stared at him with cold eyes. “She is breeding. I had to do something. You have waited so long, they may have created an heir.”

“Breeding? They have been married for less than two months. And how do you know if she is breeding? Has there been an announcement?”

His employer laughed. “Apparently you are not acquainted with my nephew. Knowing him, they have been rutting since the moment the vows were said. Besides that, I have quizzed the upstairs maid. She has not had one monthly since they returned.”

Another wave of nausea swept over him and heat stole across his cheeks. He had never known anyone who was so plain speaking, especially a peer. Sweat popped out on his forehead.

“I thought you said there was something with the marriage, that somehow you could prove it was not legitimate.”

The sigh was filled with irritation. “Yes, there was a chance, but he returned and no doubt had Bridgerton do something about it. No matter, it is now legitimate in the eyes of the law.”

“You could wait until she has the child.”

“Wait until she has the child, to see if I have lost all?”

Jasper hesitated then nodded. His employer scoffed. “That is a brilliant idea. And just what do I do if it is a boy? If there is an heir? Do we wait until he gets old enough so it won’t be too scary for you to kill him? You couldn’t kill a woman without stuttering. What are you going to do when it is a precious little boy?”

Something cold, colder than Jasper had ever felt, slithered through him. His employer’s ranting had grown more rampant, more…delusional over the months. Jasper rose from his chair.

“Let me know when you need me next, and I will do what you want.”

The laughter was there again, calculated and hysterical. The laughter of a person gone mad. Icy fingers trailed down his spine.

“What I want? What I want is someone who knows what the bloody hell they are doing.”

A second later, his body shivered with understanding as his employer took out a gun, leveling it at his heart. Jasper reacted as quickly as his mind could, frozen with fear as it was, and turned to run out the door. The report of the gun sounded and the smell of powder filled the air as he felt the bullet smash into his back. A burst of burning pain squeezed his heart then spread through his body as he fell to the floor.

The last thought as his blood pulsed out of him, drawing him further into the darkness, was of his mother and how very ashamed she would have been of him.

For the next week, Colleen held the secret of her pregnancy close to heart. There were so many moments when it was difficult, such as now when she wanted to blurt it out to Sebastian, but she held her tongue. She had not wanted to raise his hopes.

“That is a serious look for a woman taking a bath with her husband.”

She glanced up at him. Shadows of the candlelight flickered over his skin. Since her suggestion the week before, Sebastian had insisted on several baths with her. They spent more time exploring their desires than they had washing, she thought with a sigh. She could still remember blushing when trying to explain to the housekeeper, Mrs. Nettles, why there was so much water on the floor.

“It’s nothing, just thinking about tomorrow night. Do we have to go?”

He took her hand in his, raising it to his mouth. His eyes never leaving hers, he kissed each finger.

“If you do not want to, we do not have to go. But you will have to make a ball appearance at some time, Colleen. It is better to get the wretched thing over with so you can quiet your nerves.”

She pulled at her bottom lip with her teeth, then settled against him again, her back to his chest. “Am I that transparent?”

He chuckled, the sound of it vibrating against her back. “Only to me, love. You know how to dance, you have proven that. Did your mother teach you?”

It was the first time he had asked her about her mother or her upbringing. A spurt of joy filled her heart.

“Yes. Both she and my father loved to dance. They would clear the parlor and Deidre would play the piano. They knew all the latest dances even though it had been years since they met in London.”

“Do you know anything about your mother’s family?”

She shook her head. “No. I know we are part of the Macgregor Clan because of our surname, but my mother never spoke of her family. I think it was too painful for her. From what I gather, her father all but disowned her when she ran off with my father.”

“Was your father much of a rake?” She could hear the smile in his voice and smiled in reaction.

“No. Well, he might have been, but as a young girl I didn’t think of him as anything more than my father. Mother’s father objected on the grounds Father was a third son, not much money.” She frowned. “No, I don’t even know that. Father had a lot of money, and I know it wasn’t just from the land surrounding the cottage.”

Sebastian was silent for a moment, then said, “Were you very lonely after your father’s death?”

The memory of the time after her father’s death stole into her vision. Sadness swept over her again, dampening her joy of sharing her bath. “At first, it was not too bad. There was still Deidre, Mother and I, and we had enough money not to worry. Then my mother met Harry Philpot, local charmer and all-around drunkard.”

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “Did he…did he ever hurt you?”

She knew the question had been hard for Sebastian. The subject matter notwithstanding, he didn’t want to ask, but to demand. “No. He was a drunk, but not an overly violent drunk, just…not pleasant. What drunk is?” She shrugged. “The worst part was seeing my mother slowly die and he not care. Then Deidre left when she turned seventeen. A year later, she returned pregnant and was dead a few months after that. Harry froze to death that very year, after falling in a ditch in the snow.”

His arms slid around her, hugging her close to him, kissing her temple. “I am so sorry, Colleen.”

Unbidden, tears rose in her eyes, but she blinked them away. Anyone else, she would have suspected they pitied her. But Sebastian’s voice was so tender, so loving, she couldn’t fight the expectation growing within her. She knew without a doubt, he truly cared for her, and someday, sometime in the future, maybe he could bring himself to love her.

And then maybe he would tell her about the pain shadowing his own heart.

*

Sebastian watched his wife sleep with a new sense of wonder. She’d been left alone very young. From the time her father died, she had been virtually on her own, with a mother who had not been able to function without a man by her side, and a sister who ran when she had the first chance. She had shouldered the responsibility and persevered.

He pulled her close and she sighed, borrowing her head beneath his chin. Sebastian and Daniel had met with Jenkins again, discussing possible plots. There seemed to be no earthly reason why Ethingham would have tried to kill Colleen. If Ethingham had approached her, Colleen would have told him. He knew that deep down in his soul.

Frustrated that he couldn’t find one thing, one bloody clue, Sebastian had ranted to Daniel about retiring to the country. It had seemed a good idea until Daniel said that if it were a member of the household, it might make it easier to create an “accident” with miles of land around the Penwyth estate.

Sighing, he hugged Colleen. He didn’t like taking her out tomorrow night, but his mother was growing suspicious, as was the ton, on why he wouldn’t attend balls with his wife. He couldn’t very well tell his mother someone wanted him dead and Colleen out of the picture by any means possible. Daniel would be there, and they had eyes among the servants at Denham’s house, set in place by Jenkins. There would be no way in hell anyone would harm Colleen, he couldn’t let it happen.

Sebastian didn’t think he could stand to have her ripped away from him, now that he had found his heart.

*

“My lady?”

Colleen looked up from the book she was reading to find Sally staring at her. She smiled and the girl flushed. Since her accident, Sally had blamed herself for not waiting to attend Colleen down the stairs. No matter how many times Colleen had reassured her that it was not her fault, Sally seemed unable to forgive herself.

“The Duke of Ethingham is here to see you.”

Oh, this was not good. She didn’t know what to do. Sebastian was out on an errand and Cicely, Anna and Victoria had all gone out on a shopping expedition. Colleen knew there was probably a way to refuse him, but he was a duke.

“Thank you, Sally. Please tell His Grace I will see him here and make sure to arrange for some tea to be brought in.”

Sally hesitated then bobbed a curtsy. A moment later she returned with Ethingham.

Colleen rose as he entered and noticed that when Sally departed, she left the door open.

“Your Grace, it is so nice to see you again.”

He smiled a predatory smile, but Colleen knew that Sebastian was wrong. Just like her husband, seduction was probably second nature to Ethingham, and his every reaction was built for that. He bent over her hand, kissing above the skin.

“It is nice to see you looking so well, Lady Penwyth.”

“Won’t you have a seat?”

He nodded but waited for her to seat herself again. Once he settled, there were a few moments of awkward silence.

She cleared her throat. “Might I ask you the nature of your visit?”

He flushed, just a simple staining of red across his sculpted cheeks, and Colleen panicked. Had Sebastian been right about the duke?

“My Lady Penwyth—”

Before he could speak, one of the parlor maids interrupted him. Once the tea was distributed and the maid left, Colleen was ready to broach the subject again.

“Your visit?”

“Yes. I have been worried since you took the tumble down the stairs. I had not heard much, just that you were recovering. No one has visited other than Bridgerton.”

She sipped her tea, trying to figure out just why he was commenting on that and why he would care.

“Yes, although I told Lady Victoria not to worry about that. She insisted on keeping the house quiet for me.”

“I heard it was your husband who forbade anyone to enter.”

She cocked her head and studied the young duke, wondering at his motives. “I doubt that Sebastian would do that. But if he did, he must have good reason.” And she would get to the bottom of it the moment she saw him again. “You must be mistaken, Your Grace.”

With aggravated movements, he rose and began to pace. “I do not know about anyone else, but I have been here on three separate occasions to check on you and was turned away all three times.”

Alarmed at his actions and the tone in his voice, Colleen tried to calm him. “No one was permitted in.”

“And Bridgerton threatened me. Me!” He stopped, placed a hand on each hip and stared down at her. His blue grey eyes narrowed as he studied her. A chill shivered down her spine. “That wasn’t what I wanted to talk about. I just…I want you to know that if you ever find yourself in trouble, you can call on me for assistance.”

She didn’t know what to say. All the ins and outs of society were still a mystery to Colleen, but she was sure the duke didn’t run around pledging to protect all women. She nodded.

He sighed. “I know it seems strange. But just remember you can count on me for any help you should need.”

Without another word, he quit the room, leaving Colleen with an uneasy feeling that if Sebastian wasn’t right about the duke, there was something else very wrong.

*

Sally had just finished with Colleen’s hair when her husband walked into her bedroom. Watching him in the mirror, she noted the tension around his mouth.

“That will be all, Sally. I will call when I am ready to dress.”

As soon as the maid was out of the room, Colleen turned to Sebastian. He apparently had just returned. He had not had his bath or shaved for the evening. Anger rolled off him in waves.

“What is wrong?”

“Did you have a visitor while I was out today, dear?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice, making the endearment anything but sweet.

Confused, she studied him. He was fairly quivering with the need to shout, and the fact that he didn’t amazed her. “Yes. Ethingham stopped by to check on me.”

A little of the tension seemed to dissolve from his face as he stepped forward. “I gave word that he was not to be admitted. I would like it if you would respect my wishes.”

She measured his words, trying to decipher just what was going on in his head. “Why?”

“Why did I bar him from the house, or why would I not like you to see him?”

She cocked her head. “Both.”

“I don’t trust him.”

She waited, thinking he would elaborate, but when he didn’t she asked, “Do you not trust me?”

His eyes widened, surprise stealing over his features. “Of course I do.”

“Then why would you worry?”

“Word has it you were alone. That you and His Grace were alone in the parlor for about thirty minutes.”

“It was actually a much shorter amount of time with the door left open.” She stood, her own anger building. “What I would like to know is why you feel the need to have spies watch your wife?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. “I do not have spies watching you.”

“Then how do you know about Ethingham?”

He ignored her and frowned harder. “In thirty minutes, anything could have happened.”

His outburst sent a shard of ice slicing at her heart. “Anything?”

For a second, panic shone in his eyes, but it vanished just as fast as it appeared. “Yes. Anything. You are naïve in the ways of the ton
,
Colleen, but in thirty minutes, even in the front parlor, a lot can happen.”

She swallowed. “I know. I understand what you are trying to explain to me, as if I were a simpleton. But what I want to know is why you don’t trust me.”

He scoffed. “I trust you. I don’t trust him or his influence.”

“No, you do not trust me. If you did, you wouldn’t worry about Ethingham or his influence on me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I trust you. I was just…looking out for my interests.”

She should have been comforted by the note of desperation in his voice. Something was there, something he was hiding. Then it crashed down on her, sending a wave of regret and pain rolling through her.

“It is Elizabeth. You don’t trust me because of your first wife.” And if he couldn’t trust her, after all these weeks of her proving herself to him, what was left? She thought she had gained a measure of trust, something to hold on to until Sebastian finally realized he loved her. It was not going to happen. Although she had changed much in the last few months, the love for her husband growing every day as did the child they had created, there was one thing she would not do. She would not beg for love.

“No, Colleen, it is not Elizabeth. I am trying to protect what is mine.”

What was his? His possession, his wife, but not his love. She did not care how many times he used the endearment, he had not meant it. She turned away from him, trying not to let him see the hurt he had caused. She did have pride, no matter how tattered it might be. A lump rose in her throat. She wanted to believe him, she did. But she knew in the end it would not happen. She would end up more hurt than now, even though that was hard to imagine.

“Colleen, it has nothing to do with her, and I trust you. I do.”

He stepped closer. She could feel the heat of him against her back. The need to lean into him, share that warmth, revel in his touch almost overwhelmed her good thinking. But she straightened her spine and bolstered her will. “It has everything to do with it. If you trusted me, you would never have asked.”

“I will always ask because I fear no man can resist you.”

The compliment held no appeal. It was just more empty drivel he had learned in order to seduce.

She turned to face him, allowing him to see the anger she felt, and he took a step back. “I will not spend the rest of my life proving myself to you, Sebastian.” She advanced on him as he continued to back away, his expression turning darker with each step. “I will not pay for your first wife’s mistakes, and I will not spend the rest of my life loving a man who cannot return the sentiment.” She hated that her voice quivered on the last word. Swallowing, she looked away. “Until you can accept that I am good enough for you, I will not be accompanying you out. I will not have you hovering over me, waiting for me to make a mistake.”

She stepped back from him. He reached for her, but she moved away from his touch. “Colleen. I don’t think you are not good enough.”