To Catch a Countess

by Patricia Grasso

  “You owe your daughters an apology, not me.”

  He nodded in agreement. “I will apologize when they are older.”

  Victoria stared at him for a long moment. “Are there any more?”

  “No, I swear. Darcy seemed rather pleased with her sister.”

  “Darcy believes the magic wand worked a miracle,” Victoria said, rolling her eyes.

  “Perhaps it did.”

  “The only wand that works is your you-know-what,” she snapped.

  “You are angry.”

  “As you said, a husband and wife belong to each other, no matter what troubles may come,” Victoria reminded him, her gaze softening on him. “I have enough love for Darcy and Fiona as well as for any children we make.”

  “Thank you, Victoria.” Alexander drew her out of her chair and onto his lap. Cupping her chin, he brought her face close and pressed a tender kiss on her lips. “You are the most forgiving woman I have ever met and as beautiful inside as you are outside.”

  * * *

  Two weeks of domestic tranquility,

  Victoria went downstairs to breakfast on the fourteenth morning after Fiona’s arrival. Even Venetia and Diana had kept their distance, though Alexander and she had seen them at various functions. And the opera, of course.

  Victoria smiled at the sight that greeted her in the dining room. Alexander sat at the table with his breakfast and the morning Times in front of him, a daughter on either side.

  “Good morning,” Victoria called, heading for the sideboard where Bundles stood at attention.

  “Good morning,” the three at the table returned her greeting.

  “Good morning, Bundles.”

  “Good morning, my lady.”

  Victoria helped herself to a plain scone and a cup of black tea. Then she sat across the table from her husband and stepdaughters.

  Alexander looked up from his newspaper, gave her a smile, and dropped his gaze to her plate. “Why aren’t you eating?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Alexander returned his attention to the newspaper.

  “Daddy, will you butter my scone?” Darcy asked, apparently unhappy with his inattention.

  “Of course, sweetness.” Alexander cut the scone and buttered each half.

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “You are welcome, sweetness.” Alexander resumed reading.

  “Daddy?”

  “Yes, Fiona?”

  “Will you butter my scone?”

  “Of course, precious.” Alexander cut her scone and buttered each half.

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “You are welcome, precious.” Again, Alexander resumed reading.

  “Daddy?” Victoria said in a sultry drawl. “Will you butter my scone, too?”

  “I’ve been looking forward to buttering your scone.” Alexander gave her a devastatingly wicked smile, smothered the scone with butter, and pushed the plate toward her.

  Keeping his gaze captive to hers, Victoria lifted the scone to her lips. She flicked her tongue out and slowly licked the butter off the scone.

  “Daddy, Mama Tory is playing with her food,” Darcy said.

  “Mama Tory is naughty,” Fiona added.

  “If you are naughty, Mama Tory,” Alexander said, “I will need to take you upstairs.”

  Victoria laughed at that. Darcy and Fiona giggled, making their father smile.

  “Breakfast was always a peaceful affair, but I can see that has changed forever.” Alexander resumed reading the paper. A moment later, he pushed the paper toward Victoria. “Read that.”

  Caught off guard, Victoria felt her stomach lurch and stared at the paper as if it was a poisonous snake. “I—I don’t have my spectacles with me.”

  “You never have your spectacles handy when you need them,” Alexander said. “Listen to this. ‘A recently married peer of the realm has had two of his past indiscretions dropped on his doorstep’.”

  “How could the reporter know that?” Victoria asked, her expression mirroring her surprise.

  Alexander shrugged, his gaze on the article. “I suppose servants gossip with other servants who, in turn, gossip with other servants.”

  “What is indiscretion? “ Darcy asked.

  “Indiscretion is getting caught doing something you shouldn’t,” Victoria answered.

  “Like stealing a cookie and having crumbs on your mouth?” Fiona asked.

  Flicking a glance at her husband, Victoria smiled at the girl and said, “Yes, dear, that is correct.”

  Later that afternoon, Victoria sat on the stone bench in the garden, shaded by the silver birch tree, and watched her husband’s daughters. Darcy and Fiona gamboled around though the August afternoon was warm.

  The shrill cries of blue jays and the buzz of insects had replaced the nesting robins and wrens. Cicadas called to each other while crickets gave voice to creaky songs.

  Victoria closed her eyes and inhaled the mingling flower scents. She could hardly believe she had been married for nearly two months and was the stepmother of two girls. Only a few weeks earlier, she had never even kissed a man, but then her husband had introduced her to the delightful world of sensuality.

  She loved him. Victoria knew that as surely as the heat made her queasy and her studies made her dizzy.

  Too bad Alexander didn’t love her. She could have confessed her stupidity if he had. Hiding her problem from him wearied her, and practicing those b’s and d’s gave her a headache.

  “Mama Tory, what are you thinking?” Darcy asked.

  Victoria opened her eyes to find both girls standing in front of her. “See a b and say a d,” she answered. “See a d and say a b.”

  “Is that magic?” Fiona whispered, her hazel eyes gleaming with excitement.

  “Would you like to play magic?” Victoria produced a small cloth pouch containing powder mixed with tiny glittering particles.

  “What is that?” Fiona asked.

  “Pixie dust.” Victoria handed her the pouch. “Turn slowly in a circle, tossing pixie dust into the air as you do, and say, ‘Pixie dust here, pixie dust there, pixie dust is everywhere. Send me—blank— and this I swear, for pixies I shall always care.’”

  “Blank is where you name what you want,” Darcy told her sister.

  With a nervous smile, Fiona took the pouch and, turning in a circle, tossed the pixie dust into the air. “Pixie dust here, pixie dust there, pixie dust everywhere. Send me a brother and this I swear, for pixies I shall always care.”

  “Very good, sister,” Darcy praised her. Then she asked, “May I use the magic wand?”

  Victoria passed her the wand. “Be careful what you wish for.”

  Darcy pointed the wand at the sky, made a circle with it, and pointed it at the sky again. “Fairies and pixies, come to me. Fairies and pixies, hear my plea. Send a brother straight to me. Fairies and pixies, thankee, thankee.”

  “Lady Victoria.”

  Victoria spied Bundles hurrying across the garden. The majordomo wore an anxious expression, filling her with a sense of foreboding.

  “His Lordship left the house for a meeting with the Duke of Inverary,” Bundles told her. “There is a woman in the foyer demanding to speak to you in His Lordship’s absence.”

  “That must be our brother,” Darcy exclaimed.

  Victoria rose from the bench. She couldn’t credit what she was thinking. Her husband would not have lied to her.

  Followed by the majordomo, Victoria guided the girls back to the house and went directly to the foyer. Her fear took the shape of a buxom, flame-haired woman who paced back and forth. As before, a young girl and an older woman sat on the bench.

  “Are you the Countess of Winchester?”

  Victoria stiffened when the other woman smiled as if she found her lacking. Anger, instead of insecurity, swelled within her. How many tarts in England had given birth to her husband’s children?

  “Are you looking for employment?” Victoria asked. “If so, I
must tell you this is not a brothel.”

  “I am an actress,” the woman informed her, and then gestured to the girl. “Tell His Lordship that Nell is returning one of his gifts. His daughter Aidan.” At that, the woman left the house.

  Before greeting her newest daughter, Victoria instructed the majordomo, “Send a footman to carry their bags upstairs. Tell Pinky and Hartwell to help—” She looked at the older woman.

  “Juniper,” the woman supplied.

  “Juniper,” Victoria said to Bundles. “Serve us chocolate pudding in the dining room, and send a message to His Lordship asking that he come home immediately.”

  “Yes, my lady.” Bundles hurried away.

  Victoria gave her attention to the little girl. She crouched down at eye level with the child. “I am your daddy’s wife,” she introduced herself. “Welcome home, Aidan. I bet that you are five years old.”

  Aidan’s hazel eyes, so much like her father’s, widened with her surprise. “How did you know?”

  “These are your sisters, Darcy and Fiona,” Victoria said, gesturing them closer.

  “The fairies and pixies made a big mistake,” Darcy said.

  “We wished for a brother,” Fiona added.

  “We’ll take you,” Darcy told Aidan. She wrapped her arms around her new sister and hugged her. Fiona followed her lead, making Aidan smile.

  * * *

  While Victoria waited for his return, Alexander sat in the Duke of Inverary’s study. With them were Prince Rudolf and Robert Campbell.

  “Married life agrees with you,” Duke Magnus was saying.

  Alexander smiled. “I am more than pleased with my choice of a wife.”

  “How is Tory adjusting to being a stepmother?” Robert asked.

  “A stepmother twice,” Rudolf teased, and shared a chuckle with the marquess.

  “Tory adores the girls,” Alexander said. “I know how lucky I am to have married a forgiving woman.”

  “Has Victoria suffered any emotional outbursts?” the duke asked.

  “No.”

  “You can imagine how Tory could irritate me,” Duke Magnus said, a smile touching his lips.

  A knock on the door drew their attention. Tinker entered at the duke’s call.

  “Excuse me, Your Grace.” The majordomo looked at the earl, saying, “One of your footmen is here with a message.”

  “Send him in,” Alexander said, a puzzled expression etched across his feature.

  A moment later, the footman appeared. “My lord, the countess needs you at home immediately.”

  “Is she ill?” Alexander asked in alarm, rising from the chair.

  “No, my lord.”

  Alexander snapped his brows together in consternation. “My daughters?”

  “Healthy, my lord.”

  “Is anyone bleeding, convulsing, or unconscious?” Alexander asked, irritated at being summoned home for less than an emergency.

  “No, my lord.”

  “What the bloody hell is so urgent I need to be disturbed? “

  The footman glanced uncomfortably at the others and then cleared his throat. “Another indiscretion has dropped onto your doorstep, my lord.” The man’s words echoed the Times article of two weeks earlier.

  Alexander had the good grace to flush. Rudolf and Robert burst into laughter while the duke shook his head in disbelief.

  “Tell the countess I will return shortly,” Alexander instructed the footman. He sat down again, asking, “Do you have any vodka?”

  Rudolf rose from his chair and poured his brother-in-law a vodka. “This will help.”

  Alexander downed the vodka in one gulp, grimaced, and shuddered. “I don’t understand how you can drink that poison.”

  “Three indiscretions?” Duke Magnus said.

  Alexander inclined his head. “I sired three daughters by three women.”

  “Are there any more?” Robert asked.

  “No.”

  “Tory forgave you for the other indiscretions,” Rudolf said. “Why should the third be any different?”

  Alexander picked a piece of imaginary lint off his trousers. “I told her there were only two.”

  The prince and the marquess looked at each other and winced. “Tory must be furious,” Rudolf said.

  “You are a braver man than I,” Robert remarked. “I wouldn’t dare lie to Angelica.”

  “Tory had no need to interrupt my meeting,” Alexander said, rising from his chair. “This was no emergency.”

  “Be sure you tell her that,” Rudolf said, and then looked at the marquess and laughed.

  “Why do you think three mothers would abandon their daughters on your doorstep within weeks of each other?” Duke Magnus asked.

  “I had assumed it was an unlucky coincidence.”

  “Three is no coincidence,” Robert said, agreeing with his father’s implication.

  “Someone wants to ruin your marriage,” Prince Rudolf said.

  “Who would want to destroy my marriage?” Alexander could not credit what they were suggesting.

  “I’d wager my last shilling on Venetia,” Robert said.

  “What could Venetia gain by doing that?”

  “She gains the satisfaction of making you unhappy,” Robert answered.

  “Marrying Harry Gibbs has changed her,” Alexander said. “She favored returning the girls to their mothers.”

  “Your sister bears watching,” Prince Rudolf said. “I would question the veracity of whatever she says.”

  “She could harbor a grudge against you,” Duke Magnus said.

  “Why don’t you ask the mothers involved?” the prince suggested.

  “I sent my solicitor to speak with Suzette and Maeve,” Alexander told them. “Both had left London for a few weeks.”

  “I guarantee this third mother has left London by now,” Robert said. “Which proves someone is behind their actions.”

  “I cannot believe they would abandon their daughters for money,” Alexander said, “but I will consider what you’ve said.”

  * * *

  Ten minutes later Alexander arrived home. “Where’s my wife?” he asked, marching past the majordomo.

  “The countess is in the dining room, my lord.”

  Pausing in the dining room doorway, Alexander saw his three daughters sitting together and thought they made a fetching picture. Victoria sat across the table and spoke to them in a low voice.

  “Welcome home, Aidan.” Alexander drew their attention as he crossed the room. He gave each little girl a kiss and then gestured Bundles to take them to their nannies. “Close the door on your way out.”

  After they had gone, Alexander stuck his hands in his trouser pockets and watched his wife, who avoided his gaze. “Are you going to look at me?”

  Victoria said nothing. She raised her gaze to his.

  “I was in the middle of an important business meeting,” Alexander said, trying to put her on the defensive.

  Victoria couldn’t credit what she was hearing. The man had illegitimate children appearing on his doorstep and had lied about the third’s existence. And he was concerned about business?

  “Why did you lie to me?”

  “I felt too humiliated to admit to the truth,” Alexander answered, and sat down in the chair directly across from her.

  “You should feel humiliated,” Victoria said. “You should have considered the consequences before you made the rounds of London.”

  Alexander said nothing. What could he say? He ate the remains of his daughters’ puddings and then pointed to his wife’s untouched dish. “Are you going to eat that?”

  His question broke the dam of her control.” You son-of-a-bitch,” Victoria exploded, leaping out of her chair so quickly, it fell over. She grabbed her dish of pudding and smashed it on the table.

  “Tory, control yourself.”

  “Why should I? You have never controlled yourself.”

  “I will not countenance one of your emotional fits.”


  “I don’t have fits,” Victoria shouted, “but if I did, I would be entitled.”

  “Sit down, Victoria.”

  “You lied to me.”

  “I was wrong,” Alexander admitted. “I apologize and swear never to lie again.”

  His words lowered her boiling rage to a slow simmer. “Are there any others?”

  “No.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Yes.”

  Victoria nodded, accepting his words as truth. “I forgive you,” she said, “but I want to get away from London. The girls and I will leave in the morning for my uncle’s estate.”

  “I don’t have anything pressing,” Alexander said. “I’ll go with you.”

  “No, thank you.”

  “You want to get away from me?” he asked, without bothering to hide his hurt.

  “I need a few days alone,” Victoria said, her heart aching but her mind settled. “I hope you understand.”

  Alexander inclined his head. “I understand perfectly.”

  That night Victoria slept alone for the first time since her wedding. She had never felt more miserable in her life.

  Chapter 11

  How long would Alexander mourn her? Would he marry Lydia Stanley, his first love, or Diana Drummond, the widow who lusted for him?

  Almost a week after leaving London, Victoria lay in her bed in her old bedchamber at her aunt’s and uncle’s country estate and stared at the ceiling. She had been unwell since before leaving London, and the illness had worsened during the past week.

  Tears welled up in her eyes as she recalled the last time she had used this chamber. Alexander had taken her virginity in this bed, and now she would end her life in it.

  Living without her husband for almost a week had shown her how intensely she loved him. With time and space separating them, Victoria had realized the reason her husband had hidden his indiscretions. She was hiding her stupidity from him. Where was the difference?

  If only she had understood before leaving London. She would have the comfort of her husband’s presence during her final hours.

  Alexander was in London and so were Diana Drummond, Lydia Stanley, and Miriam Wilmington. That unsettling thought sent her stomach into a rolling turmoil as if she sailed on storm-tossed seas.

  Leaping out of bed, Victoria dashed across the chamber. She dropped to her knees beside the chamber pot and retched dryly.