The Counterfeit Countess

by Diana Campbell

  “A young woman whose Christian name you could not even remember,” Selina suggested.

  “A young woman whose Christian name I could not even remember!” his lordship roared.

  Papa had always subscribed to a notion that one’s

  capacity for anger varied according to one’s coloring; he held that redheads were notoriously given to fits of temper, brunets occupied the middle of the spectrum, and blonds were invariably cool and controlled under the most trying of circumstances. Selina wondered how Papa would have explained Lord Worsham's present demeanor: his entire face was flushed quite scarlet, and his lavender eyes had turned almost black with fury. But Papa (as so often happened) was not here, and Selina sought to soothe the Earl as best she could.

  “You must realize that I did not intend to pose as your wife," she said. “I intended ..." Upon consideration, she did not care for the word “pose." “I intended to represent myself as your widow because I naturally assumed that you were dead.”

  “You assumed I was dead.” His lordship nodded. “Yes, that clarifies the matter to my entire satisfaction.” “I knew you would understand.” Selina was literally breathless with relief. “I do not seek to excuse my behavior, of course—”

  “Why the devil would you believe I was dead?” Lord Worsham bellowed. “Did I strike you as a terminal consumptive? You may recall that I walked all the way from the Eagle Tavern and still had sufficient energy to ‘shove’ you about the floor of your drawing room.” Selina was reluctantly forced to conclude that the Earl’s miraculous escape had unhinged his mind: he apparently remembered the minutest details of his stay in Richmond but had forgotten his subsequent brush with death. “I believed you were dead because of the Nightingale," she replied.

  “The Nightingale?" He frowned.

  Selina belatedly feared that a sudden jarring of his memory might further damage his faculties, but she had come too far to stop. “I am sure the incident is almost too painful for you to recall,” she said gently. “It must have been a horrifying experience: swimming through the storm to shore, learning that all your companions were lost with the ship—”

  “Lost?" his lordship gasped. “The Nightingale sank?” Every trace of color had left his face, and he took a great swallow of brandy before he went on. “Good God, Miss Hewson, what a peculiar twist of fate. My parents were drowned, you know.”

  “No; no, I didn’t know,” Selina murmured.

  “Yes, they were en route to a house party in Ireland, and their ship went down in St. George’s Channel.” He took another sip of brandy and refilled his glass to the rim. “I daresay I should count myself most fortunate to have avoided the same end.”

  “But you still do not recollect it?” Selina asked. “The wreck, that is?”

  “Recollect it?” He frowned again, then nodded in sudden comprehension. “No, I do not recollect it because I was not on the Nightingale, Miss Hewson. While she was anchored at Norfolk to take on cargo, I learned of a ship bound for England via Bermuda. It was an opportunity to see one more portion of the world, so I sailed on the Avon instead. An impulsive change of plans which obviously saved my life.”

  He shuddered a bit and strode across the room, stopped at Selina’s side and gazed down at her. She thought he looked, if possible, even more disreputable than he had in Richmond: his skin had been burned a trifle darker during his homeward voyage; his hay- colored hair—much too long—spilled untidily about his shirt-points; and she doubted that Harriet’s first footman would consent to wear the Earl’s threadbare frock coat and shapeless pantaloons. But he remained, despite these deficiences, by far the most attractive man she had ever encountered, and she felt the onset of a familiar, infuriating blush.

  “In any event,” Lord Worsham said, “I fancy I can now deduce the substance of your plot. Believing me dead, you decided to come to England, pose as my widow, claim my estate—”

  “No!” Selina protested. “No, it wasn’t that way at all. To the contrary, I insisted that we were not to spend a single farthing of your money. I told Papa . . She bit her lip. She was a grown woman of one and twenty, she had agreed to Papa’s scheme, and it would be unfair to shift the burden of guilt to him. “I told Papa that as

  your widow I could obtain a proper introduction into English society. Which otherwise I could not because we had been abroad so many years. I eventually talked him round—”

  “Pray spare me your tales,” the Earl interrupted dryly. “I was not born yesterday, and I read the fine, devious hand of Black Jack Hewson the instant Winthrop congratulated me on my ‘marriage.’ ”

  “And just what is that supposed to signify?” Selina demanded stiffly.

  “Please spare me your innocence as well; you cannot be unaware of your father’s character. Though, now that I think on it, you may be unaware that Black Jack Hewson was something of a legend prior to his hasty emigration. A rogue of unparalleled accomplishment—”

  “Well, you should certainly be able to identify a rogue when you see one," Selina snapped.

  “And what is that supposed to signify?" Lord Worsham inquired politely.

  “I am given to understand that your father’s character was not exactly unblemished either. And that you betray every indication of following in his dubious footsteps.”

  His lordship’s eyes darkened again. Upon close inspection, Selina observed that they did not really turn black; they were more nearly purple. Purplish-black perhaps.

  “Have we cast sufficient aspersions upon one another’s ancestry?” the Earl said acidly. “If so, I should like to return to the matter at hand. I cannot but wonder— since you did not think to spend ‘a single farthing’ of my money—why I find you comfortably ensconced in my home. I am sure you can offer a perfecdy reasonable explanation.”

  “I can!” Selina eagerly nodded. “It was Simon’s idea. He and Harriet have had a bit of difficulty with Jeremy . .

  She related the events of her and Papa’s first day in London, and his lordship’s mouth began to twitch as she described Lady Preston’s confrontation with the lizard. The desecration of Lady Worthington's flowers

  elicited an outright grin, and by the time Selina had covered the catapult and Jeremy’s “accident” with his plate, Lord Worsham was laughing aloud.

  “So you see,” she concluded, “we had no choice: Simon virtually ordered us out. And I tried not to spend your money; honestly I did. I engaged a staff of only four—Winthrop is still overset about that—and as soon as we received word of your death, we were going to close the house again.” At least, she silently amended, / intended to close the house.

  “And your fiance?” The Earl abruptly ceased his chuckling. “How did he stand to gain by your plot?"

  Her fiancЈ? Selina started to quirk her brows, then recalled the engagement she had fabricated the night of the ball. She was briefly tempted to confess the truth on this head as well, but—as she had then—she elected to salvage a shred of pride.

  “Matthew was unaware of our—our plan,” she responded. “Papa informed him of my desire to have an English come-out”—this, at least, was true—“and Matthew was most distressed. We decided, under the circumstances, to terminate our engagement. Temporarily, of course,” she added quickly.

  “Of course.”

  Selina thought there was another telltale twitch at one corner of Lord Worsham’s mouth, but she could not be sure, for he sighed, peered into his glass and swirled the brandy about for a moment.

  “I am inclined to believe you, Miss Hewson,” he said at last. “Or, at any rate, to allow you the benefit of doubt: I shall presume that your scheme was not financially motivated. If it had been, I fear you would have been doomed to bitter disappointment.” He flashed a wry smile. “Have you learned that I haven’t a groat in the world to call my own?”

  “Yes,” Selina murmured. “Harriet told me about your grandmother.”

  “Be that as it may,” the Earl continued, “you cannot fail to perceive that
you have created one hell of a bumblebath. I fancy, in view of the Season, that you

  have met the entire Ion by now, been presented at Almack's—”

  “But I haven’t!" Selina interjected. “Papa felt it best to keep our—our marriage a secret.”

  “Oh?” His lordship’s blond brows darted into the fringes of his overlong hair. “And why was that?”

  Why indeed? Selina wondered again if Black Jack Hewson had suspected Lord Worsham's survival, but the matter no longer seemed important. “I’m not certain,” she replied honestly. “In any case, apart from the servants, only Simon and Harriet and Jeremy know that we are married. Were married, that is. Well, we were not married, of course . . .” The Earl’s lips were twitching again, and Selina stopped and peered down at his boots, noting that they were now battered beyond any hope of repair.

  “Excellent,” his lordship said. “It appears to me, then, that the situation can be readily resolved: we shall simply advise my family of the truth. You and Mr. Hewson may spend tonight here, and tomorrow you will move to a hotel. I see no reason why you should not have your come-out after all, and at the end of the Season, you and your father may remain in England or return to Virginia according to your circumstances.”

  Selina calculated that her and Papa’s “circumstances” quite precluded lengthy residence in a London hotel, but she decided not to mention their embarrassing lack of resources to the Earl. She dragged her eyes from his dilapidated Hessians back to his face and discovered that he was scrutinizing her most intently—his own lavender eyes unreadable.

  “You have been very kind, Lord Worsham,” she said. “Very tolerant. I hope you are not too—too . ..”

  “Too ‘vexed’?’’ he prompted, with another grin. “Actually, Miss Hewson, since no harm was done, I must own that I find your little charade rather amusing. Indeed, if I should meet up with you at Almack’s, I shall be delighted to introduce you around.”

  Selina judged it most unlikely that she and Black Jack Hewson would obtain vouchers to Almack’s, but she mutely nodded.

  “I see no advantage in delaying the inevitable then, do you?” His lordship drained his glass and set it on the Pembroke table, strode back to the library door and opened it. He nodded Selina ahead of him, and she walked across the foyer with a peculiar mix of emotions. Harriet had been very kind to her as well, and Selina could hardly bear to disillusion her. On the other hand, Lord Worsham was alive, and—no matter what ensued— Selina felt light-headed, light-hearted; felt as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

  “Ah, here they are!” Harriet trilled. “I trust you will not object, Selina, but I took the liberty of ordering dessert.”

  Lady Preston gulped down a final spoonful of blancmange, and Selina swallowed an alarming threat of nausea. The Earl escorted her to her abandoned chair, seated her, then glanced around the table.

  "Where is Jeremy?” he asked.

  “Where is Jeremy?” Harriet repeated nervously. “He ate his pudding, and after that he disappeared. I daresay he is outside, making the acquaintance of every reptile and insect on Mount Street. Perhaps we should send Winthrop to search for him—”

  “Never mind.” Lord Worsham waved one lean brown hand and appropriated his brother’s chair. “I fancy Jeremy’s absence is for the best, for I am compelled to address a rather delicate subject.”

  “Selina is in the family way!” Harriet clapped her own hands. “Did I not tell you, Simon? Did I not point out that Selina is exceedingly pale—”

  “Selina is not in the family way!” his lordship choked. To Selina’s astonishment, he had once more flushed a deep brick-red.

  “No?” Lady Preston’s face fell. “It would have been such a splendid surprise for Grandmama."

  “Pray permit me to continue without further interruption, Harriet,” the Earl said sternly. “Selina is far from being in the family way .. His voice trailed off, and he blanched. “Grandmama?” he echoed. “Grandmama?”

  “Don’t be angry with John and Selina.” Lady Preston negotiated one of her tremulous smiles. “They asked me to keep the marriage a secret until your return, but I knew you wouldn’t mind if I informed Grandmama. I wrote her the very day of Selina's arrival, and Grandmama wrote back immediately. I’m sure I needn’t add that she was thrilled by the news. She is coming up from Wiltshire tomorrow, and I fancy she will have a wonderful surprise after all. She expected only to meet Selina, and she’ll be overjoyed to find that you’re here as well, Alex.” Harriet fairly hugged herself with delight.

  “Tomorrow.” Lord Worsham’s tone fell somewnere between a moan and a wail. “Tomorrow.”

  “She won’t be staying here, of course,” Lady Preston said soothingly. “She did not wish to impose upon Selina so. soon after the opening of the house, so she has elected to stay with us. Since I doubt she will arrive before late afternoon, I suggest we postpone the introductions until tomorrow evening. Come at half past six; that will permit you a chat with Grandmama prior to dinner. Meanwhile, though I should adore to hear of your adventures, Alex, I daresay you are tired, and you would certainly have to repeat everything for Grandmama. I shall therefore contain my curiosity till tomorrow." Harriet laid her napkin on the table, then frowned. “But what was the delicate matter you wanted to discuss?”

  “The delicate matter I wanted to discuss.”

  The Earl’s discomfiture was obvious, and Selina surmised that he viewed his role with considerable distaste. She decided it was unfair to force his lordship to play the tattle-box, and she cleared her throat.

  “What Lord Worsham intended to say—”

  “You have forgotten again, my love,” the Earl interposed. “You must learn to employ my Christian name.” He gave her a fond smile, and as Selina’s mouth fell open, his lordship turned back to Lady Preston. “I intended to inquire whether Jeremy has adjusted to his new living arrangement."

  “He has indeed," Harriet assured him. “John is simply wonderful with children.” She beamed down the table at Papa. “The dinner was lovely, Selina, but Si

  mon and I must go now; I shall be quite busy tomorrow preparing for Grandmama.” She and Lord Preston stood, and Alex started to rise as well, but Harriet waved him down. “Never mind, dear; Winthrop will show us out. I am sure you and John and Selina have a great deal to talk about.”

  Selina grimly credited Lady Preston with an understatement of historic magnitude, but she sat in silence, biting her lip, until she detected the closing click of the front door. She then spun her head to Lord Worsham, but before she could speak, he slammed his fist upon the table.

  “You see the fine hobble you have got us in?” he hissed. The silverware was still rattling a bit.

  “The fine hobble / have got us in!” Selina protested. “/ attempted to tell Simon and Harriet the truth.”

  “And who was to tell the truth to Grandmama?”

  “That is scarcely my problem,” Selina said stiffly, “because I did not tell Mrs. Seymour of the marriage in : the first place. It is not my fault if your sister is unable to keep a secret—”

  “Children, children,” Papa chided. “Pray cease your quarreling and explain the situation to me.”

  “I should not think the situation requires a lengthy explanation,” the Earl snapped. “As I stated, you and ! your daughter have put me in a damnable coil. I was quite prepared to reveal your shameless scheme to Harriet and Simon, but Grandmama is another matter. I | fancy she is thrilled by my alleged marriage, for she has been pinching at me for years to settle myself down. And if she learns I am not married after all, she will assume that / conspired to deceive her. She will cut me out of her will—”

  “You are not in her will,” Selina pointed out.

  “She will terminate my allowance then!” his lordship roared. “Please do not be difficult!”

  His eyes had gone unmistakably purple, and Selina busied herself with her unused dessert spoon. “I dare- : say we shall think of something,”
she mumbled.

  “You are quite right on that head,” Alex said frostily, j “You will think of something—you and the inimitable

  Black Jack Hewson. You created this bumblebath, and you will undo it. And I am waiting, with bated breath, to hear precisely how.”

  “It is really very simple,” Papa said. “We shall kill Selina off.” For a moment, Selina fancied he was speaking literally, but as her eyes widened with horror, Papa went on. “Not immediately, of course; your family have observed that she is in high force. No, I propose that, for the time being, you continue to pose as man and wife. Sooner or later, a suitable opportunity will arise; you and Selina will be left alone, and she can succumb to a brief, mysterious illness or a tragic accident. Is that not the best course?”

  “Humph!” the Earl snorted. “I fear, at this lamentable juncture, it is the only course.”

  “Splendid.” Papa bobbed his bald head. “Then I must counsel you to remember your roles at all times and to try to project an illusion of harmony.” Selina and Alex glared at one another, and Black Jack Hewson sighed. “Harmony, children; wedded bliss.”

  “I shall attempt to appear appropriately blissful when we meet Grandmama,” his lordship said wryly. “In the interim, I am a trifle tired, and I believe I will retire.” He peered briefly into the entry hall. “Though I had hoped to present Jeremy the gifts I brought him from abroad.”

  “I fancy Jeremy has come in from his explorations and retired himself,” Papa said. “You can give him his presents tomorrow, Alex.”