The Countess (13 page)

“I suppose that could work,” Richard said thoughtfully.

“It will,” Daniel assured him. “The only real problem I see is getting him out of here and back to your townhouse in broad daylight.” When Richard raised his head at the suggestion, he said, “He has to be moved soon. One of the servants might decide to take a turn around the gardens and stumble upon him before the day is out.”

“Damn.” They had to move the body and quickly, but the question was how did one move a body about in broad daylight without anyone knowing it was a body? He lowered his head to consider the problem, his eyes staring blindly at his own feet briefly before they focused on the patterned rug under them. Smiling, he raised his head. “You don’t happen to have an old rug you don’t mind getting rid of?”

The sound of the door opening and closing stirred Christiana from sleep and she rolled over in bed to peer toward it, coming more awake when she saw Grace crossing the room toward her.

“Lord Langley is here and asking to see you,” the maid said solemnly.

Christiana stiffened where she lay and then cast a quick glance to the other side of the bed to see that Richard was no longer there.

“He left nearly an hour ago,” Grace announced as she gathered a fresh gown for her to wear.

“Oh,” Christiana murmured, immediately assaulted by a variety of emotions. Not one of them good. Dawn was casting a harsh light on the situation at hand and forcing her to acknowledge that she had consummated the wedding with her husband, who may or may not be her husband, because she still was not sure if it was actually a birthmark on his behind that she’d glimpsed. Brilliant.

Worse than all of that, though, was that while she was now sober, lying alone in her bed with Grace there looking so grim, and the light of day shining through the windows and spotlighting her in her shame, had she woken naturally and alone with Richard, Christiana knew she might very well have merely rolled over, cuddled up close and begun to kiss and caress him awake to initiate another round of the consummation. It was how he’d woken her several times in the night and her body wanted it again even now. Just the thought of it was making her breasts tighten with desire. What they’d done had been that delicious, the excitement and pleasure he had shown her that addictive.

“Should I tell Langley you are unavailable?” Grace asked, setting a basin of water on the small table beside the bed.

Langley. Christiana grimaced, her shame increasing at the thought of talking to Robert. Here he had been trying to get her out of her miserable marriage and she had ensured that there was no way that she could. Dear God, she wished she’d never . . . well, she wasn’t sure what she wished. Having tasted such pleasure, it was hard to wish she hadn’t. God, her body ached in places she hadn’t known it could, but she’d never felt so physically replete. Christiana supposed the truth was she wished this was the first morning after her wedding and that the last year hadn’t taken place, that she still had a chance of happiness, of enjoying the pleasure she’d experienced last night again and again and sharing a life full of laughter and joy with Richard . . . who would have to be Richard for certain, of course.

“I shall tell him you are still asleep,” Grace decided for her and turned toward the door, but Christiana forced herself to sit up.

“No,” she said on a sigh as she pushed the blankets away. There was no sense putting off this meeting. She may as well get the unpleasantness over with and out of the way and see what could be salvaged from it.

“Are you sure? I could—”

The way Grace’s words died so abruptly as Christiana rose from the bed, made her glance toward her curiously. The maid was staring at the bed and the small splotches of blood that had been revealed when she’d pushed the bed covers aside to get up. The evidence of what had taken place last night, Christiana realized with a grimace and felt herself blush when Grace’s sharp eyes turned her way.

“I knew he’d slept in here, his bed was ruined by the ice, but—” She paused, anger filling her face. “He took advantage of your inebriated state?”

Christiana grimaced and turned away, aware that she was blushing. Having no idea what to say, she moved to the basin of water and simply murmured, “He is my husband.”

Grace snorted angrily and began to strip the bed. “This blood proves he has been less than a husband this last year. I suspected he had not visited your bed since the wedding, but I thought that night, at least, he’d done his duty. The devil!” she added with disgust. “Why could he not stay dead?”

Christiana bit her lip as she picked up the clean bit of linen, dipped it in the perfumed water and began to wash herself. She’d wondered the same thing many times last night. Well, at least she had before Richard had kissed her. She suspected she would have protested vociferously at his dying in the middle of their exploits, but she was certainly now thinking it would have made things much simpler.

“And look what he did to you!” Grace said with dismay, leaving the bed for now and hurrying to her side.

Christiana glanced around with confusion at that cry and then followed Grace’s gaze over her body, her own eyebrows rose slightly as she saw that her body bore several dark red marks and even a faint bruise or two. She didn’t recall how she’d got them and certainly hadn’t felt any pain at the time. While Richard had been cruel and cold this last year, she didn’t think he’d marked her deliberately last night, but the activities had got very vigorous at times and she knew she’d scored his back more than once during their more passionate moments.

“ ’Tis all right.” Christiana turned back to her washing. “They do not hurt.”

Grace was silent for a moment and Christiana could almost hear the rant the maid wanted to let loose. Much to her relief, however, she didn’t but returned to the bed, taking out her anger by almost ripping the bedsheets from it, no doubt imagining it was Richard and she was ripping his flesh off. Grace had been her mother’s lady’s maid before her and had become Christiana’s on her mother’s death. She had watched her grow up and had a great deal of affection for her, an affection that was returned. She also had something of a temper.

Both women were silent as Grace helped her dress. Confused and miserable herself, Christiana did nothing to end it, but was grateful to escape the room once she was dressed and ready. She wasn’t exactly eager to have the conversation she knew was coming with Langley, however, so didn’t rush downstairs. Unfortunately, despite dragging her feet, she did eventually arrive at the parlor, where Langley paced the floor as he waited. He stopped the moment she entered the room though and his first word was, “Well?”

Christiana felt her lips twitch into a grimace, and then turned back and closed the parlor door. It wasn’t quite the done thing for a married woman to be in a room alone with a man who wasn’t her husband and have the door closed. But it did seem smarter than leaving it open so that anyone passing might hear their conversation. Turning back to the room, she moved to sit primly in a chair and then just sat there, not sure what to say or how to start.

“Well?” Langley repeated, sitting on the corner of the couch. “Does he have the birthmark?”

Christiana felt her lips twist and lowered her head. After all that had happened last night she should be able to say yes or no, however she just wasn’t sure. She wished she’d taken a closer look, or thought to try again later, but once passion had overcome her the last thing she’d cared about was getting a look at his bottom. Squeezing it with her hands to urge him on, and digging her heels into it as he drove his body into hers, yes, but look at it? It just hadn’t been high on her list of priorities as he’d kissed and caressed, kneaded and touched, buried his face between her legs and drove her to, and then over the edge of madness before plunging his body into hers and driving her there again, and again, and—

“Christiana? Are you all right?” Langley asked with concern. “You are suddenly quite flushed.”

Torn from her increasingly feverish recollections, she blinked and then glanced around and waved her hand in front of her face, asking, “Is it hot in here? I feel over warm.”

“Er . . . I do not think so. It seems fine to me,” Langley assured her and then asked a touch impatiently, “Did you get the chance to see if he has the birthmark?”

Christiana opened her mouth to say no, but then stopped, because that would be a lie. The truth was, of course, that she
had
had the chance, she’d just been too preoccupied with other things to take it. Finally, she said, “I am not sure if he has the strawberry or not.”

Langley sat back with a sigh of disappointment, but then just as quickly sat forward again. “Well, we shall just have to think of another way to find out. I was worried sick last night about the three of you here in this house with him. I’ll take you, Lisa and Suzie away today. You can stay at your father’s townhouse while I arrange for an exam and an annulment.”

“Er . . .” Christiana cleared her throat and then murmured, “I don’t think there can be an annulment.”

“Of course there can. The marriage hasn’t been consummated.”

“Well . . . yes, well, that’s the thing,” she muttered, “Last night I was trying to see the strawberry and—Well, I was trying to see it—I fear the alcohol had something of an effect on me, I—he—we definitely hadn’t consummated it on the wedding night,” she ended lamely.

“What are you trying to say, Christiana?” Langley asked slowly, looking like he already knew what she was saying but didn’t want to believe it.

“We consummated last night,” she blurted finally.

“Dear God,” he groaned, closing his eyes, and then immediately opened them again and asked, “How could you?”

“Rather easily as it turned out,” she muttered, and felt herself blushing.

Langley rubbed his forehead as if it were suddenly aching, and then sighed and sat up. “Okay. We shall have to force him into divorce then. We will pretend to be lovers, and flaunt the supposed relationship openly until he has no choice but to demand a divorce. There will be more of a scandal, but at least you will be safe. I—”

“Safe?” she interrupted sharply.

He frowned. “Well, surely you realize that if it is George, then it’s possible Richard’s death may not have been an accident.”

Actually, she hadn’t realized that, Christiana thought faintly. It simply hadn’t occurred to her that George could envy Richard so much he might kill him to take his place. She’d just assumed that Robert was worried that George had taken advantage of what was an accident.

“Chrissy?”

“Just a minute, I must think,” Christiana muttered.

Langley paused and waited, his expression questioning and she bowed her head, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. She was taken aback somewhat by his suggestion. It put a whole new slant on things. At least, it did for a moment, but as her mind raced over the events from the night before, her thoughts began to clear a little. While she might have believed the man she’d lived with this last year capable of such a thing, she just found it impossible to believe that the man who had been so considerate and kind at the ball, and then such a patient and giving lover last night, could have killed his own brother out of envy.

Christiana grimaced as she realized she was separating his good behavior from his bad behavior rather than considering it all as a whole, but that was how she was starting to think when it came to her husband. There was the Dicky she’d lived with this last year who she could believe would have done such a thing, and would be happy to find some way to escape. And then there was the sweet, considerate and passionate lover, Richard, from last night. The problem was she had no idea which man he was, and who she would be confronted with the next time they met. Would he be the Dicky who was so mean and cold to her, or the lover Richard? And if it was Dicky by day and Richard by night, was it worth spending her days in a sort of hell to enjoy nights of heaven?

She supposed that didn’t really matter. The marriage was consummated, so unless it turned out Richard was really George, the marriage would stand firm. She would never allow Robert to sacrifice himself by pretending to be her lover to gain her a freedom she’d lost through her own wanton desires. Though she had to admit the very fact that he would even suggest it was touching. She didn’t doubt that he’d carry it out if she agreed. She also knew without a doubt that he’d make the same offer to both Suzette and Lisa were they in similar situations. Truly, he was the best of friends, a brother in every way but blood . . . and she couldn’t allow him to ruin himself for her.

“Chrissy?” Langley prompted again.

Christiana sighed and finally just said, “Why do we not just wait a bit? I am sure I can get to see his bottom tonight. I will make sure I do, and then we shall decide what is best from there.”

“Christiana,” he began sternly, but it was as far as he got, for the door opened just then and Lisa and Suzette entered.

“There you are,” Lisa trilled brightly as she led Suzie to join them. “Haversham said Robert was here. Why was the door closed?”

Christiana blinked in surprise at the scowl Lisa cast on both her and Langley for such an impropriety. Lisa rarely scowled at anything or anyone. “I’m afraid I closed it without thinking when I entered. Come sit down, I was just about to ask Langley if there are any balls we should attend tonight.”

As the two girls took their seats, Christiana turned a warning glance to Langley. She didn’t want the conversation to continue in front of her sisters. She really didn’t want to discuss it anymore at all, at least, not unless Richard didn’t have the strawberry birthmark. Then, she supposed there would be a lot of discussion going on.