The Countess (4 page)

Richard managed to keep from grimacing. He’d forgotten that George had always seemed to have two left feet. Their dance instructor had done his best when they were children, but George simply hadn’t been able to manage any sort of grace on the dance floor and had finally refused lessons. Managing to hold on to his smile he said, “Yes, well, I am willing to give it my best effort now. Will you not dance with me?”

He held his hand out and she stared at it briefly as if it were a snake, but then sighed and placed hers in it with little enthusiasm and a muttered, “Very well.”

Afraid she might change her mind at any moment, Richard ushered her quickly onto the dance floor. He found it ironic that she was so obviously less than pleased to dance with him. As a wealthy and titled member of the peerage he had always enjoyed a certain success with women, but it appeared Christiana was less than enthralled with him, and
she
was supposed to be his wife. It made him wonder what the devil his brother had done to the woman.

Once in the center of the dance floor, Richard took her into his arms for the dance. She was stiff and awkward in his hold, her face turned away as if she couldn’t even bear to look at him. Richard gave her a moment, hoping she would relax, but she continued to move like a wooden doll, her jaw tense and eyes darting about as if in search of escape. He finally decided just to get it over with and asked, “So am I to understand you thought your husband dead?”

He didn’t realize how he’d framed the question until the words were out, but Christiana didn’t seem to notice his saying “your husband” rather than referring to himself in the first person. Her head whipped around, her wide eyes meeting his with dismay, but then she seemed to forcibly calm herself and merely turned her face away again, muttering, “You did seem to be.”

“And your response to that death was to attend a ball?” he asked carefully.

He saw the flush of shame that rose up her neck, but when she turned her face back to him it was mitigated by anger and she scowled. “Well, what was I supposed to do, Dicky? We couldn’t risk having to go into mourning. Suzie has to find a husband, and it’s
your
fault she does. You are the one who took Father to that gaming hell. Now he’s apparently gambled his way to the edge of ruin again and Suzie has to find a husband and claim her dower to pay off his debts and avoid scandal.” Hurt bewilderment covered her face and she asked, “How could you take him to one of those places when you knew what happened the last time?”

Richard had no answer for her. He had no idea why George would have done such a thing. His instinct would be to say greed had led to it because that seemed to ever be George’s motivation. However, Richard couldn’t see how ruining Christiana’s father and family would increase his own riches. He also had no idea what had happened to Christiana’s father “the last time” but it obviously wasn’t good. Sighing, he said the only thing he could and offered a quiet, “I apologize. It was not well done to take your father somewhere like that given his history.”

Christiana was so startled by her husband’s words and the apparent sincerity behind them that she stumbled in her step and fell against him. Dicky immediately caught her against his chest to keep her upright.

“Are you all right?” he asked, holding her close and tilting his head to try to see her face.

Christiana nodded and took a deep breath to steady herself, but it helped little. With everything that had occurred that day, she hadn’t eaten since breakfast and was now feeling the effects of the drink she’d so precipitously downed. Her thoughts were slowing and growing a bit muddy even as the tension eased from her body. It left her more relaxed, which she didn’t necessarily think was a good thing at the moment. Especially when they were dancing so close now that she was inhaling his scent, and finding it surprisingly heady, a spicy male aroma that made her want to inhale again. She had never noticed him smelling this lovely before, but then was rarely as close to him as this.

“Christiana?”

She reluctantly lifted her eyes, confusion and vulnerability swirling inside her.

“You’re quite lovely when you aren’t frowning,” he said suddenly as if surprised at the revelation.

Christiana felt her lips part slightly with surprise. This was the very first compliment she’d heard from the man in the year since their wedding. It was so rare and so unexpected, it quite took her breath away. Or perhaps that was the whiskey, she thought. For surely it was the whiskey that made her forget how horrid the man was and notice only how handsome he looked in his formal garb. Of course, she had always known Dicky was a handsome man, at least on the surface. His features were strong and sharp, but suited his face perfectly, and he had short, dark hair that looked so silky it made a girl want to run her fingers through it. She had always found him incredibly attractive physically. However, at the moment he was eyeing her with a concern she had never seen before and it seemed to increase his attractiveness tenfold, making him darned near irresistible.

“If you continue to look at me like that I may be tempted to kiss you,” he said in a husky voice.

Christiana’s eyes widened slightly and for a moment she almost wished he would, but then she recalled this was her husband and abruptly turned her head away with a little, “Oh dear.”

“What is it?” Dicky asked with a small frown.

“I believe that drink you gave me may be affecting my good sense,” she muttered, thinking it the only excuse for how she could find this man attractive after having suffered under being his wife for a year. Besides, she was beginning to feel a little off balance, her thoughts a little slow and confused. Of course, she was also finding it suddenly overly hot and a touch airless in the room, but suspected that was from being in Dicky’s arms. At the moment, they were as close as lovers, his body brushing against hers with each dance step, his one hand at her back, his arm encircling her, the other hand clasping her suddenly sweaty one . . . and his smell just kept wafting up her nose, sliding through her body, making her want to lean into him. That drink was definitely affecting her, she decided grimly.

“Perhaps I should take you outside for a breath of fresh air.”

“No!” Christiana said at once, instinct telling her that would be a very bad idea indeed. She was already terribly confused and flustered and it was difficult enough being this close to him in public, but out on the dark terrace, with the sparkly stars overhead and torchlight the only thing chasing back the shadows . . . No, Christiana felt sure the best thing she could do was put some distance between them so that she could start thinking straight again. Unfortunately, she would have to wait until the end of the waltz to do that.

“Are you sure?” Richard asked, pulling back to look at her. “You are quite pale. Perhaps some air would make you feel better.”

Christiana stared at him silently, her gaze moving over his handsome features with bewilderment. He was like a different person. His expression was kind and concerned instead of the cold mask she was used too, and certainly his behavior was nothing like the man she had been married to this last year. It was more like the man she’d thought she’d married, and was stirring up feelings Christiana had thought long dead.

“Why are you being nice to me?” she asked with confusion. “You are never nice to me. Why are you being nice now?”

Dicky reacted as if she’d struck him, his head jerking back as if under a physical blow, and then anger briefly crossed his face. He said quietly, “I apologize if my behavior has been less than kind this last year. All I can say is I haven’t been myself.” He glanced away, frowned, and then continued, “At the moment, I can’t explain what has been occurring, but I can promise you things will be different from now on and I will do everything I can to protect you and make this last year up to you.”

Christiana stared at him with something like wonder. His words could have been plucked from one of the many hope-filled dreams she’d had this last year. They were words she’d longed to hear ever since the wedding and his horrid change in behavior and she had the sudden urge to pinch herself to be sure she wasn’t dreaming now. But before she could, Dicky urged her closer against him to continue the dance. While she allowed him to lead her back into the rhythm of the music, her mind was awhirl with confusion. This was not the man she’d lived with this past year, but it was the man she’d thought she’d married, and his words were making hope rise within her foolish heart. Hope that perhaps there was an explanation for his previous behavior and that whatever had caused it was now over. Perhaps she could have the marriage she’d hoped for.

Or perhaps she was deluding herself, and would get her hopes up, only to have them dashed again, Christiana worried. Unfortunately, it mattered little either way. He was alive and was her husband. That meant that at the moment all she had was the hope that things would be different and her life would not continue as it had been since her wedding.

Christiana was distracted from her thoughts when Dicky’s hand moved up and then down her back in an almost unconscious, soothing caress. At least, she suspected that was how he’d intended it, but it had an entirely different effect on her. Rather than soothe, it sent shivers up her back to her neck. Confused by her body’s reaction, she instinctively stepped back to try to put some space between them and bumped into someone.

Richard pulled her closer again and murmured, “I apologize. It has been some time since I danced. I am a little rusty at leading.”

Christiana glanced over her shoulder to offer an apology to whomever she’d bumped, and then glanced sharply back to Richard. The small accident had been her fault for moving, yet he was taking the blame. That was completely unheard of prior to this. Dicky simply did not take blame for anything. In fact, Christiana usually caught the blame for everything, even if it had nothing to do with her.

“No, it was me,” she admitted, not one to allow others to take the blame for her mistakes.

Dicky lowered his head and said with amusement, “My dance instructor would disagree most stringently with that. It is always the man’s fault. He is the one leading, the one who is supposed to be steering you safely around the dance floor.”

Christiana bit her tongue and said nothing. Confusion was rife within her and it wasn’t just because of the complete about-face in his attitude. He had spoken the words into her ear, his breath brushing the outer shell and sending startling shivers through her. She was also suddenly very aware of just how close he’d pulled her after the small accident. She was now plastered to him, her breasts against his chest, and his legs and hips brushing against her with every step. He had also let his hand slip lower on her back so that it now crested the upper curve of her behind. All of this was stirring the oddest sensations in her, making her shiver and long to press herself tighter still against him. She even had the quick mad thought to wonder what it would be like if he slipped his hand a little lower, and pressed a little tighter so that their hips met more firmly.

Even when courting she hadn’t experienced these physical reactions to him and it was quite unsettling.

Richard found himself repeatedly stealing glances at the woman in his arms. It seemed obvious from their brief exchange that she had no idea what George had done, and that the man she lived with and thought was her husband was actually an imposter. It also seemed obvious that this last year of the sham marriage had not been a happy one for her, that his brother was treating her poorly. Christiana was as much a victim of George’s machinations as he was and the revelations about to come out would not be pleasant ones. Scandal would follow as it was realized that the wedding had not been legal, that she wasn’t actually married at all since George was an impostor.

The thought made Richard angry all over again. It also made him want to do what he could to protect her. From what he could tell, Christiana deserved none of this. She had married in good faith, but would now be ruined by it unless he could find a way to prevent that.

His gaze slid over her troubled features. Had he really thought her unattractive? Richard now decided it had merely been her expression of shock on seeing him. She had certainly grown more attractive as they’d danced. The first burst of anger she’d had earlier had put a natural bloom in her cheeks and a spark in her eyes that was almost arresting. The confusion and hurt that had followed as she’d reprimanded him for taking her father to a gaming hell had made him want to comfort and hold her closer. Now she appeared a touch flustered. Hectic color had bloomed in her cheeks, and she was nibbling her lower lip in a rather adorable fashion. However, she was also much more relaxed in his arms, her body almost fluid rather than the stiff wooden woman he’d first led to the dance floor. The swift changes were fascinating to him and he found himself wondering what she would look like under the influence of other moods and passions. For instance, how would she look in his bed, with desire making her sloe eyed, and her lovely blonde hair spread out on a pillow?

These thoughts coursing through his mind, Richard almost without realizing it let his hand slide a little lower to curve over her behind and urge her tighter against his hips. The effect was rather startling. Christiana didn’t pull back, but gasped and shivered, her eyes dropping closed as their hips met and they both became aware of the hardness he hadn’t realized had grown between them.

“Husband?”

The word was a breathy sigh, and Richard smiled and lowered his head, deliberately allowing his breath to brush her ear as he said, “Yes?”