The Countess (2 page)

Dicky took his time about finishing his meal, but finally pushed his plate away and rose. He then insisted on walking her to the parlor and did so at a pace that snails could have outstripped. Christiana was gritting her teeth by the time he paused to open the parlor door.

“Chrissy!” Suzette started to her feet with relief when Christiana entered, but stopped abruptly when Dicky followed. She then watched with obvious frustration as he ever so slowly walked Christiana to a seat and saw her settled.

“So?” Dicky arched an eyebrow as he took up a position on the arm of Christiana’s chair where he could loom over her like a bird of prey about to pounce. He then eyed her sisters like they were naughty children. “What was so urgent that you had to arrive here at such an ungodly hour?”

Suzette’s gaze slid to Christiana and then to Lisa before she forced a cool smile and sweetly lied, “Nothing at all. We just missed Chrissy terribly. It has been more than a year since your marriage and you have not brought her back to visit
as you promised
.”

Christiana could feel Dicky stiffen at the chastisement and sighed inwardly. Here was more he would punish her for later.

“I am an Earl, girl, an important man who is far too busy to waste time gallivanting about the countryside when there is work to be done here,” Dicky said stiffly.

“Ah, well, we are seeing each other now,” Christiana murmured to forestall her sister saying anything else. “And I am very happy to see you. You must tell me everything that has happened since I left home.”

Much to her relief, Suzette caught the hint and immediately launched into tale after tale of life back on their country estate. She actually seemed to begin to enjoy the endeavor, devilment sparkling in her eyes as she recounted who had married, who hadn’t, and every bit of gossip she had heard no matter how trivial. As for Lisa, she sat silent, her worried gaze remaining warily on an increasingly impatient Dicky as Suzette babbled on. It was a relief to all of them when he suddenly stood to announce, “I shall leave you ladies to your nattering then. I have more important issues to attend to.”

On that pompous note, he left them, moving much more swiftly than he had allowed her to on entering.

“Thank God,” Suzette moaned when the door closed, her gay, trouble-free facade dropping away. Anger immediately replaced it and she sat forward to demand, “What the devil is going on, Chrissy? Does he act like that all the time? My God he was nothing like that when he courted you. He—”

“Hush,” Christiana hissed. Standing, she moved swiftly to the door and knelt to peer out the keyhole. When all she saw was empty hall, she released a relieved breath and moved back to her sisters.

“How bad is your marriage?” Suzette asked quietly as Christiana settled on the couch between her sisters. “You look tired and miserable. He’s not treating you right, is he?”

“Never mind that,” Christiana said wearily. There was little anyone could do about her situation and discussing it would merely bring her misery to the surface. It was easier when she simply didn’t think about it. “What is going on? Why are you two here?”

Suzette and Lisa exchanged a glance and then Lisa finally spoke up for the first time since their arrival and announced, “Father has been gambling again.”

“What?” Christiana gasped with dismay. “But he promised never to gamble again after Dicky paid off his last gambling debts.”

It was how she’d ended up married to the man. Her father had landed them in hot water with one aberrant night of drinking and gambling. He’d raised what money he could by selling family heirlooms to meet the debt, but it hadn’t been enough, and he’d been at a loss as to how to pay the rest. The creditors had been knocking on the door when fortune had seemed to smile on them in the form of Dicky. He’d arrived at Madison Manor with an offer of marriage for Christiana, and on hearing of their dire straits had offered to clear the remainder of her father’s debts in exchange for Christiana’s hand in marriage.

To her father’s credit, he’d refused the offer until Dicky had convinced him that he loved Christiana. Dicky had claimed to have seen her at the local fair that summer and spoken to her briefly, which she hadn’t recalled at all. He’d also claimed he’d been fascinated and found out all he could about her and that everything he’d learned he’d found pleasing.

His words had been convincing and her father had been swayed, but despite his dire straits, had insisted that while he would give his blessing to the union, it was only if she was willing. Unfortunately, Christiana had been easy enough to persuade. Dicky was handsome, well off and an Earl. Any girl would be flattered to be courted by such a man. And what a courtship! He’d been the sweetest of men, calling her his little rosebud and romancing her with touching poems and declarations of undying love. It had all been rather heady to a simple girl who had spent her life quietly in the country with only her sisters and one neighbor boy for company, and in no time at all he’d swept her off her feet and gained her agreement.

Christiana grimaced at the thought of the naïve idiot she’d been, and now saw that she should have questioned his motives and insisted on more time to make her decision. But her father only had two weeks to pay off his gambling debts, and she’d foolishly believed every word Dicky had said to her. She’d been sure he must love her and that there could be no other purpose for his rapturous courting. After all, what other reason could there be? It was not as if he knew about the outrageously huge dower that her mother’s father, Baron Sefton, had bestowed on herself and her two sisters in his will. That was a family secret.

Of course, once they’d married and his behavior had changed so dramatically Christiana had begun to suspect he’d known about the dower after all and that gaining it had been the true target of his courting. She just didn’t know how he could have learned about it.

“Father said he didn’t mean to,” Suzette said unhappily, drawing Christiana’s mind back to this new problem. “He feels horrible about what’s happened and has been scrambling to try to figure out a way to pay off his debts, but can think of nothing.”

Christiana grimaced. He’d felt horrible the last time too. “When did it happen? And how? He has not even been to London and there is nowhere near Madison for him to—”

“He has been in London this last month,” Lisa corrected quietly. “Didn’t you know?”

“No,” Christiana admitted with dismay. “Why didn’t he come to see me?”

“He did,” Suzette assured her. “In fact it was his original reason for traveling to London. He was worried because Dicky hadn’t brought you home to visit, and we weren’t getting responses to the letters we were sending.”

“I haven’t received any letters, and I have been writing faithfully every week,” Christiana said quietly, anger beginning a slow burn in her stomach. Not getting responses to her own letters had left her feeling even more lonely and depressed. Now it seemed Dicky had somehow been ensuring none of her letters went out and that she didn’t receive any in return. What else had the man been doing? She wondered grimly.

“The bastard,” Suzette snapped, looking ready to smack someone.

“You say father came here?” Christiana asked, returning them to the topic at hand.

“Aye,” Lisa murmured, her worried gaze on a still furious Suzette. “Dicky said you were out at the dressmaker’s.”

“He didn’t tell me,” Christiana said unhappily.

“Apparently Dicky welcomed him and took him to the club for a drink . . . and then on to a gaming hell,” Lisa said.

Christiana sat back with dismay.

“Father was supposed to return home two weeks ago,” Suzette continued the explanations in a quiet voice. “When he did not arrive and we heard no word we began to worry. I sent messages to the townhouse but got no response, and then finally decided Lisa and I had best come to London and find out what had happened.”

When she fell silent, Lisa picked up the tale again. “We arrived in London at dawn and went straight to the townhouse. We found father there in the library. He was in his cups and sobbing.”

Christiana let her breath out on a sigh and asked with resignation, “How bad is it?”

“Worse than last time,” Suzette said tightly.

“Worse?” Christiana could feel the blood rush out of her face.

“He owes less than last time,” Lisa said quickly. “But the estate is still recovering from his first misstep and there is no ready cash or even much to sell. If father cannot come up with the money, he may be forced to sell the family estate to pay off the debt.”

Christiana sucked in a horrified breath. This
was
worse than last time.

“We shall be ruined once this gets out,” Lisa pointed out solemnly.

Christiana bit her lip, knowing that was true. “How long does he have to find the money?”

“Two weeks,” Suzette answered.

“Two weeks,” Christiana breathed with dismay. Her mind raced around like a rat in a larder for a moment and then she straightened her shoulders determinedly. “I shall talk to Dicky. We will have to take some money from my dower and—”

“No. You paid last time. It’s not fair that you should pay again,” Suzette argued, and then added grimly, “Besides, it appears that you are still paying for father’s last misstep.”

Christiana waved that away, knowing Suzette was referring to how Dicky treated her. Not wishing to discuss it, she instead addressed her suggestion, “Suzette, you cannot pay. You cannot claim your dower without first marrying.”

“True,” she agreed. “So I shall marry.”

“In two weeks?” Christiana shook her head. “You cannot find a suitable husband in two weeks.”

“Who says he has to be suitable?” Suzette asked dryly. “Dicky was supposedly suitable and that hasn’t turned out very well, has it?”

“But—”

“Do not fret, Chrissy,” Suzette interrupted. “I have a plan. I just need a little help from you to make it work.”

“What kind of plan? And what help?” Christiana asked worriedly.

Suzette sat eagerly forward and took her hands. “There are always Lords who are land and title rich and yet in desperate need of funds. I intend to find one who is desperate enough that he will strike a deal with me. In exchange for marriage and access to three quarters of my dower, he must agree to allow me access to one quarter of it to use as I wish, as well as the freedom to live my own life.” She smiled widely. “All I need is for you to sponsor our coming out . . . immediately. You have to get us to balls and teas and soirees and anything else where I can meet and assess the men available. I will do the rest.”

Christiana stared at her sister. Her plan seemed sound enough. Three quarters of Suzette’s dower was still a fortune, and certainly the arrangement should leave Suzette happier than she herself was in her own marriage. In fact, Christiana actually felt a moment’s envy that her younger sister would manage such an arrangement. As for Suzette’s request, sponsoring her for a coming out was little enough to ask, and certainly much easier than trying to convince Dicky to allow Christiana access to her funds. While the man was pleased to waste money on food, wine, and his own pleasures, when it came to giving her anything as small as pin money, his fist suddenly spasmed and closed tight. Of course, Dicky did seem pleased to say no to her when it came to anything, so convincing him to sponsor her sisters for a coming out might not be all that easy either, she thought worriedly.

“Chrissy?” Suzette asked anxiously. “You can do that, can you not?”

Christiana’s gaze returned to her younger sister. Seeing the worry and desperation on her face, she straightened abruptly. “Certainly I can. I shall make Dicky do it . . . somehow,” she added in a mutter as she got determinedly to her feet.

She would confront him at once, Christiana thought firmly as she crossed the room, and found she wasn’t afraid for the first time in a long time. It wasn’t just because she was angry about Dicky’s part in her father’s gambling either. Somehow just learning that her family had tried to write her and that she wasn’t as alone as she’d felt this last year was resurrecting her spirit, as was this short time basking in her sisters’ company. The old Christiana was awakening inside her as if from a long sleep, and she was ready for a fight.

“What if he says no?” Lisa asked worriedly, bringing her to a halt as she reached the door.

Christiana paused just long enough to force a smile to her lips, and then glanced back to say lightly, “Then I shall just have to kill him, won’t I?”

Chapter Two

C
hristiana usually knocked before daring to enter Dicky’s office. This time, however, she was angry and ready for a fight. She did not knock, but thrust the door open, and sailed determinedly inside, her voice sharp as she announced, “We have to talk, Dicky.”

Christiana thought it a very strong start. It was just a shame that Dicky wasn’t there to hear it. The room was empty. She started to turn away with a scowl, intending to hunt the man down, but paused mid-turn as she saw someone sitting in one of the chairs by the fire. Recognizing her husband’s dark hair above the chair back, Christiana glared briefly, awaiting some sort of acknowledgment that he’d heard her. When none was forthcoming, her scowl deepened and she strode forward.

“You will not ignore me, Dicky. I know you have been withholding my family’s letters from me, and you have somehow been preventing my letters from getting to them as well. And now I find out that you took my father to a gaming hell of all places? How could you when you know what happened the last time? You have treated me most shabbily since our marriage, but I never imagined you would do something so—”

Christiana had been building up a nice head of steam as she crossed the room to stand before him, but stopped now as she got a good look at the man she was berating.

Dicky was leaning back in the chair, eyes closed and fingers resting on his chest as if he’d meant to loosen his cravat but had dropped off before he could. No doubt Dicky had nodded off after returning here on escaping Suzette’s “nattering,” she thought grimly.

And the liquor probably didn’t help, Christiana decided as her gaze shifted to the empty glass next to the half-empty bottle of amber liquid on the table beside him. She recognized the carafe, it was very fine, very expensive whiskey that he usually only opened when celebrating something.

Wondering what on earth he could have to celebrate, Christiana bent to shake his shoulder. “Dicky, you—Oh!” she gasped and leapt back when he suddenly slid from his seat and landed in a heap on the floor. Christiana was about to bend down and rouse him from his stupor when a rustling from the door drew her attention to the fact that Suzette and Lisa had followed and now stood in the open door.

Suzette peered at Dicky and then raised her gaze to Christiana and said wryly, “I thought you were just teasing when you said you’d kill him.”

“Very funny,” Christiana muttered, not appreciating her sister’s sense of humor. “He’s drunk. Close the door before one of the servants sees the state he’s in.”

“Does he often drink this early?” Suzette asked, crossing the room to join her as Lisa quickly closed the door.

“Not this early, no,” Christiana admitted. “But he does start earlier than he should and drink more than he should on a regular basis. It’s given me hope that he’ll fall down the stairs and make me a widow sooner rather than later,” she added dryly and then grimaced, knowing how bitter and unkind the thought was.

“I think he has,” Lisa said quietly as she joined them around Dicky’s prostrate form. “Made you a widow I mean. I don’t think he’s breathing, Chrissy.”

Christiana glanced doubtfully back to Dicky. He’d slid onto his knees, and slumped forward over them so that his head landed on the rug in front of the fireplace. While it didn’t appear that his back was moving or expanding with the inhalation of breath, it was hard to tell for sure with him crumpled the way he was.

Christiana knelt beside him and with a little help from Suzette managed to lay him out on his back. They then both stared at his chest for a moment. It wasn’t moving. Hardly believing what she was seeing, Christiana leaned forward to rest her ear above his heart. There was no steady thump, no thump at all.

Eyes widening, she sat back on her haunches again and simply stared at the man, finding it hard to believe he was dead. Dicky just wasn’t thoughtful enough to do something so kind.

“He
is
dead, isn’t he?” Lisa asked.

Christiana glanced to where her youngest sister still stood by the chair and said uncertainly, “It would seem so.”

“What do you think killed him?” Lisa asked with a frown and then suggested, “It was probably his heart. I noticed how flushed he got when Suzette argued with him. He seemed a very passionate man.”

Christiana didn’t comment, instead she let her gaze drift over the man she’d been so eager to be free of and let a sad sigh slip from her lips. She’d thought herself in love with him when they married, but the man she’d loved hadn’t existed, he’d turned into someone entirely different once the ceremony was over. That man had smothered every last drop of her love over this last year with his controlling and critical attitude. Still, she felt a tinge of grief stir within her. It was probably for the man she’d thought he was and the life she’d hoped for, Christiana acknowledged. Despite everything, she’d still held on to a drop of hope that something would happen to turn him back into the wonderful Prince Charming he’d been when he’d courted her, and that she could yet have the happy ending she’d expected on their wedding day.

Christiana hadn’t been foolish enough to think there was
much
hope for that, but there was absolutely
no
chance for it now. She was a widow . . . and had every intention of staying one. There was no way she would ever entrust herself into another man’s hands again, not in this lifetime. Christiana had learned her lesson well.

Shoulders straightening resolutely, she said, “I suppose I should have the servants call a doctor to—”

“No,” Suzette interrupted. “If he’s dead you will have to go into mourning and cannot give us our debut. We will be expected to join you in mourning too and will have absolutely no chance of saving ourselves.”

Christiana recognized the truth in Suzette’s words, but said helplessly, “What can we do? He’s dead.”

As Suzette glowered at the hapless Dicky, Lisa suggested, “Perhaps we could just put him in his bed and tell the servants he is feeling unwell. Even a couple of days may be enough for Suzie to choose someone desperate enough to accept her offer. The moment she settles on someone and heads for Gretna Green you can pretend to discover Dicky dead in his bed.”

“A couple of days wouldn’t even be enough time for Suzie to start her search for a husband,” Christiana argued sensibly.

“It is,” Suzette insisted. “Tonight is the season opening ball at Lord and Lady Landon’s. Everyone will be there. You and Lisa can gossip with the women to find out who is rumored to need money, and I can assess those men and find out which seem the most desperate and amenable to my needs.”

“Everyone will be there
who has been invited
,” Christiana corrected dryly. “And we weren’t.”

“You were,” Suzette argued. “Lady Landon told us so.”

“When could she have told you that?” Christiana asked suspiciously. “You only arrived in London this morning.”

“Lord and Lady Landon were at the last inn we stopped at on the way to London,” Lisa said with a wide smile. “They’re both very nice and were kind enough to share their table with us. While talking, Lady Landon said she had sent you and Dicky an invitation and would be pleased to extend the invitation to include the two of us.”

“Dicky never mentioned an invitation to the Landons’ ball.” Christiana glanced to his body.

“What a surprise,” Suzette said with disgust and glowered at the man. Her foot also moved sharply in his direction before stopping abruptly and Christiana raised an eyebrow, sure the girl had just stopped herself from kicking the corpse.

“Lady Landon also mentioned the Hammonds’ ball is the night afterward,” Lisa announced. “She said it is a crush, and everyone attends it as well. She said she knew you had also been invited to that. She and Lady Hammond are apparently good friends and Lady Landon promised to send a message to Lady Hammond telling her how delightful we were and suggesting she extend your invitation to include us as well.” Lisa beamed with satisfaction. “Between those two balls, Suzie should find someone so we only need the two nights and then you can claim you found Dicky dead in his bed.”

Christiana stared at her with disbelief. “He is dead
now
, Lisa. After a couple of days . . .” She didn’t finish, it was just too gruesome to say that the man would start to smell.

“We can open the bedroom window and let the cold air in,” Suzette said at once. “It will slow down decay. We could even make a trip to the ice house to get ice to pack around him and—”

“Dear God,” Christiana leapt to her feet with horror. “I cannot believe you are suggesting this. He is a man, not a slab of meat.”

“Well, it’s not like he was a
good
man,” Suzette said with irritation. “From the little we’ve seen, it appears he treated you abominably.”

“And he
is
the one who took father to the gaming hell and started this latest ruination,” Lisa pointed out solemnly.

Christiana was silent, her thoughts torn. She peered from the man on the floor, to Lisa’s worried expression, to Suzette’s desperate one and clenched her hands. “Two nights,” she said tightly. “We cannot risk any more than that.”

“Two nights,” Suzette agreed on a breath of relief.

Christiana shook her head. “We are mad.”

“The mad Madison sisters,” Suzette said with a sudden grin.

Christiana didn’t smile, she was too busy considering the problem of how to get her husband up to his bedroom. Then there was the small matter of how they were going to keep his valet—not to mention the rest of the servants—away from him. Another problem was how to fetch back the ice to keep him cold enough that the smell alone wouldn’t give away the state he was in, and then they had to find the invitations and arrange for appropriate gowns for the three of them in very short order.

Dear God, she thought, this couldn’t work, and they truly were mad to even consider it.

“Take his feet, Lisa.”

Christiana glanced to her sisters as they moved to either end of the man on the floor. Eyes widening with alarm, she asked, “What are you doing?”

“We have to get him up to his room,” Suzette said sensibly. “You go make sure there is no one in the hall.”

“But—”

“Move,” Suzette grunted impatiently as she caught Dicky under the shoulders and hefted his upper body off the floor.

Christiana narrowed her eyes and propped her hands on her hips. “See here, miss, I may have had to take that kind of bossy nonsense from Dicky this last year, but that was only because he was my husband. I’ll not have you ordering me around like a servant in his place now he’s dead.”

Lisa had just grabbed Dicky’s feet, but dropped them to the floor with a thud and hurried to her side to pat her arm soothingly. “Now Chrissy, I don’t think Suzie meant anything by it. We’re all just a little overexcited at the moment.”

Christiana rolled her eyes. Lisa always had been the peacekeeper, forever trying to soothe hurt feelings and prevent the outbreak of battles. Shaking her head, she glanced to Dicky. He really was a good sized man, and was not going to be moved easily or quickly. “Well, we can’t take him like this.”

“What do you mean?” Suzette let Dicky’s upper body drop.

Christiana winced at the thud of his head hitting the wood, but explained patiently, “Even if there is no one in the hall now, someone could come out while we are carting him up the stairs. Then what would we say?”

Suzette frowned and peered down at Dicky with dislike. “Even dead the man is a pain.”

Christiana actually felt her mouth twitch with amusement and knew it must be hysteria. There was absolutely nothing funny about any of this. Her eyes slid over him again and then settled on the rug he half lay on and suddenly she knew what to do. “We shall roll him up in the rug and cart that upstairs. That way if anyone comes along they won’t see him.”

“How do we explain why we’re dragging a rug around?” Suzette asked doubtfully.

“We shall say the rose room is chilly at night and you, Suzie, are going to stay in it and we are hoping the rug will help keep it warm for the few nights you are here,” Christiana announced with satisfaction. It was nice to have an issue she
could
solve for once. It made a change from constantly banging her head against a wall trying to sort out how to fix her marriage.

“That may work,” Lisa said slowly.

“It will,” Christiana assured her. “Now come, help me roll him onto the rug.”

With the three of them working together it was a quick job getting him positioned on the end of the rug and then rolling him up in it.

“Now what?” Suzette asked as they straightened.

“Now we carry him upstairs,” Christiana said firmly. “Suzie, you take that end, Lisa you take the middle and I shall take this end.” She knelt at her end of the carpet and waited for her sisters to position themselves, and then said, “On the count of three. One, two, three.”

The last word was almost a grunt as Christiana tightened her hold on the rug and pushed herself to a standing position using only her legs.

“Gad, he’s heavy,” Lisa complained as they started to walk slowly toward the door.

“The added weight of the rug does not help,” Suzette panted as they paused at the door.