The Countess (8 page)

“I fear those drinks Langley gave her may have affected her after all,” Lisa said with concern, taking her other arm as the world tilted again and Christiana stumbled in her direction.

“Surely two drinks wouldn’t affect her this much,” Suzette protested.

“Two drinks on an empty stomach might,” Lisa reasoned.

“Three drinks,” Christiana muttered.

“Three?” Suzette peered at her with surprise. “When did you have a third one?”

“A firsht one,” Christiana corrected and paused to frown at the slur. She spoke with more care as she explained. “I drank Dicky’s whiskey earlier.” She frowned when
whiskey
came out as “whishkey,” but then decided it didn’t matter and admitted, “It’s okay though, I actually feel good.”

“Oh dear,” Lisa said.

Suzette merely shook her head. “Well, at least she feels good, probably for the first time since marrying that odious man. No doubt he
did
make a deal with the devil to return.”

“ ’S what I said,” Christiana pointed out, stopping to wave her finger at Suzette. Unfortunately, Suzette’s grip on her arm prevented it.

Lisa sighed pitiably. “What are we going to do, Suzie? We can’t let her stay married to him.”

“Oh don’ worry. I’ll fix it,” Christiana assured her, wondering why they were still standing there in the entry.

“How?” Lisa asked dubiously.

“I’ll get to the
bottom
of it,” Christiana answered blithely, and then burst out laughing at what to her seemed a very clever play on words. Her sisters were less impressed and merely watched her cackle, and then exchanged a worried glance.

“Perhaps we’d best get her to bed,” Lisa murmured. “She appears to be getting worse.”

“Aye,” Suzette said dryly and they urged her to and up the stairs.

“Never fear, Chrissy,” Lisa patted the arm she held as they reached the upper hall. “We will see you tucked safely in your bed so you can sleep off the effects.”

“I can’t sleep,” Christiana protested, tugging on her arms. “I need to see Dicky. Where’s Dicky?”

“Now I know I shall never drink,” Suzette said dryly. “If it affects the mind to the point that she would actually want to see that blasted man, then I shall never touch a drop.”

Christiana blinked in surprise. “I don’t want to see Dicky.”

“But you just said you did,” Lisa protested as they reached the door to her bed chamber.

“Did I?” Christiana asked a bit befuddled as they urged her into the room. She then shook her head and explained, “Well, I don’t want to see him.”

“That’s good,” Suzette muttered as she closed the door.

“I just want to see his bottom,” Christiana explained and frowned as
see
came out “shee.”

“What?
”

Christiana scowled at the screeched word, noting that the loudest screech of all came not from her sisters, but from Grace, who was pushing herself out of the chair by the fire where she’d apparently been awaiting her return.

“What what?” Christiana asked, perplexed by their upset as the maid rushed across the room to join them. It all made perfect sense to her. “I half to get Nicky naked,” she explained and then frowned and corrected herself. “Dicky daked. No, that’s not right either.” She heaved a sigh and pulled free of her sisters to weave her way across the room, waving one hand expansively as she added, “Well, you know what I mean.”

“Not really,” Suzette said dryly. “Why do you not explain it to us?”

Christiana turned back to her sisters, most distressed to find her earlier good cheer suddenly replaced with a deep depression, and then blurted mournfully, “Do you know I’ve never seen Dicky daked? A wife should see a naked Nicky.”

“Or even a naked Dick,” Suzette put in dryly.

“Suzie!” Lisa gasped, blushing furiously.

“What? It’s his name,” Suzette pointed out.

The words were innocent enough, but mirth was curving the corners of her sister’s lips and Christiana was sure there was a joke there she was missing. However, she was rather consumed with the need to see Dicky’s bare bottom, not to mention a bit distressed that the room would not stop swinging about her. It seemed to her that her room had never moved before and shouldn’t be now. She’d heard that rooms on ships moved though, so perhaps they’d brought her to a ship rather than home, she reasoned as she sat on the edge of her bed. “I don’t feel good. Can you make the boat stop pitching about?”

“Oh dear, are you going to be sick?” Lisa asked and Christiana noticed that she took a step or two back. Lisa never had been good with illness.

“She probably will,” Suzette said dryly. “Just the thought of seeing Dicky naked makes me nauseous.”

“Not all of Dicky, just his bottom,” Christiana assured her earnestly. “I have to find the strawberry.”

“I think you’d have more luck finding strawberries in the kitchen, Chrissy dear,” Suzette said, laughing openly now.

“All right, now that’s enough of this nonsense,” Grace snapped with exasperation. Moving to stand before Christiana, she eyed her briefly with worry before glancing to her sisters to ask, “What on earth is the matter with her? Has she been drinking?”

“No,” Lisa said at once, and then frowned and added, “Well, yes, but not on purpose. I’m afraid Langley gave her his whiskey by accident and she downed it without realizing what it was until it was too late, and then she had a glass of the Regent’s punch as well, and apparently she’d already had another whiskey earlier so the combination . . .”

“I see,” Grace said with a sigh, and then a smile tugged at her lips and she shook her head. “Well, a good night’s rest will right what’s wrong with her then. Come along, dear, let’s get you out of this dress and ready for bed.”

“But I have to find Dicky’s strawberry,” Christiana protested, trying ineffectually to stop Grace as she began to undo her lacings.

“Darling child, don’t you worry about Dicky anymore. He’s dead remember?”

“Actually, he’s not,” Lisa said unhappily and the words stopped Grace’s cold where Christiana’s efforts had failed.

“Of course he is. He’s—”

“Alive and well and showed up at the ball,” Suzette interrupted.

“No,” Grace said with certainty and immediately strode across the room to the connecting door to the master chamber. She opened it, peered inside, and then slammed it quickly closed and whirled to them with horror on her face, “How?”

“A deal with the devil,” Christiana answered morosely. “Now I have to get him naked. He should of stayed dead don’t you think? The King should make a law, if you’re dead, you stay dead. It’s entirely too upsetting for dead husbands to show up at balls and spoil them like that . . . and then I wouldn’t have to shee his bare bottom.”

Grace stared at her blankly for a moment, and then shook her head and moved back to her side. “All right, you girls get yourselves to bed. I’ll see my lady into bed.”

“Oh, but I don’t want to go to bed. I might fall asleep and miss Dicky’s strawberry.”

“Yes, yes,” Grace interrupted soothingly, urging her to her feet and quickly finishing undoing her gown. “You want to see Dicky’s bottom. But he’s not here right now, is he? So we’ll just get you ready for bed. You can see his bottom whether you’re wearing a dress or nightgown, can’t you?”

“I suppose,” Christiana muttered.

“Go on, you two. I can handle this,” Grace insisted, drawing Christiana’s attention to the fact that her sisters were still there. Despite the maid’s words, the two women seemed reluctant to leave and Christiana wondered if they wanted to stay and help her get a look at Dicky’s bottom.

“I think they’re gone,” Richard whispered when silence reigned in the hall for several minutes. “We’d best move while we have the chance. Once they have Christiana in bed, the girls will no doubt seek their own rooms and this could be one of them.”

Daniel grunted agreement and eased the door open to check the hall. Apparently finding it empty, he stepped back and pulled the door wide for Richard to carry his burden out of the room. He didn’t get far. Richard had barely stepped out the door when another one along the hall opened. He immediately whirled back to the room to return inside, but Daniel apparently hadn’t heard the sound, wasn’t aware of the threat of discovery, and blocked his way, still trying to exit the room.

More concerned about the body being seen than himself, Richard cursed and shoved George at Daniel, who had the wit to catch the blanket-wrapped body. He then pushed his friend back into the room with his burden. He pulled the door closed even as he whirled to face Christiana’s sisters, who had appeared outside the door to the room he thought was Christiana’s. The two women were looking back into the room, saying their good nights, and didn’t turn his way until he’d taken a couple of steps toward them. Both women paused, their smiles fading.

“Ladies,” he murmured, racking his brain for some way to delay the women from seeking their beds. Preferably something that would take them downstairs and give Daniel the chance to slip out of the house with George. The best he could come up with was, “Might I convince you both to join me in my office for a drink before you retire?”

“No, thank you,” Lisa said stiffly as they approached. Suzette didn’t even bother with a refusal, she merely snorted with disgust as she started past him, heading for the door to the room he’d just exited.

“I need to talk to you,” he said desperately, catching at Suzette’s arm to bring her to a halt. When she turned angry eyes his way and glared at the hand on her arm, he released her. “I realize I’ve been a bit of an ass to your sister—”

“A bit?” Suzette asked dryly.

“All right, a lot of an ass,” Richard acknowledged and wished he knew exactly what George had done. “The point is, my brush with death tonight has awakened me to what is important in this life, and I would dearly like to make it up to Christiana and, if possible, mend our relationship. I was hoping you could advise me on how to do that.”

He had thought it an inspired ruse, and one that wasn’t entirely a ruse really. If he was going to step back into his life as it now was and keep Christiana for a wife, he needed to repair the damage George had done. Of course, there was still the small matter of who had poisoned George. If Christiana was the culprit, it was a matter that would have to be dealt with. However, his main concern at the moment was getting her sisters out of that hallway long enough for Daniel to escape.

“Are you sincere about this?” Lisa asked quietly.

“Of course he isn’t,” Suzette said with irritation. “A leopard does not change its spots.”

“He changed his spots going from nice to nasty after marrying Christiana,” Lisa pointed out. “Perhaps he can change again.”

“That wasn’t changing his spots,” Suzette assured her. “Those spots were fake ones he’d painted on to get her to marry him so that he could get his hands on her dower. He just washed them off once he’d accomplished that and reverted to his true, nasty nature.”

“I’m very wealthy, ladies,” Richard said quietly. “I had no need to marry Christiana for money.”

Suzette’s eyes narrowed. “Then why did you marry her?”

That one stumped him. How could he answer that? He suspected George
had
married Christiana for her dower and he himself hadn’t married her at all. Finally, he simply said, “I care about Christiana and her happiness.” Which was true. He did care. He didn’t want to see her suffering for his brother’s actions. However, Suzette didn’t look impressed, so he continued, “My behavior this last year is a direct result of what happened with my brother. I—”

“Oh,” Lisa breathed, sudden understanding dawning on her face. “Of course.”

“Of course what?” Suzette asked suspiciously.

“Don’t you see, Suzette?” Lisa peered at Richard with pity and understanding. “No doubt in his heart of hearts he has always felt guilty for surviving the fire that killed his brother.”

Richard managed not to grimace. He doubted George had felt a moment’s guilt over hiring men to kill him.

“Meeting and falling in love with Chrissy must have been a balm to his wounded soul,” Lisa continued in earnest tones. “But then they married and moved here, living just up the street from the charred remains of the townhouse where his poor brother died. It must be a daily reminder of his death. His guilt would have returned and trebled, because he was no longer experiencing just the guilt of surviving while his brother didn’t, but now also for finding a love and happiness his poor dead brother would never have.” She peered at Richard with big, wet eyes. “His soul tortured, his spirit wounded, he lashed out at Chrissy, the woman he loved, destroying her love and their relationship out of the guilt consuming him.”

Richard stared at the young woman wide-eyed. So much dramatic drivel out of the simple comment that his behavior was a result of what had happened with his brother was just astonishing to him. The girl should write fiction, he thought, and then noticed that Suzette’s expression had softened just a little, some of her suspicion easing away. Apparently, she wasn’t as hard as she appeared to be and had something of a romantic streak as well.

“Is this true?” Suzette asked.