Finessing the Contessa

by Wendy Soliman

  “All right, since you’re unwilling to confide in me, I’ll tell you what I think. Someone in Sicily suggested you come to England to play chess. No one would think that strange, even in these sensitive times, because you’re constantly being invited. While here you were to somehow obtain my brother’s report.” He frowned. “But how? How did your controller know that I would be charged with delivering it?”

  “He didn’t. I was told to behave agreeably towards you when we met over the chessboard. I was to somehow gain an invitation to your home which would afford me access to your brother’s papers, and...”

  “Ah, I see.”

  “I don’t suppose you would allow me a peep at that report,” she said meekly. “I should be exceedingly obliged to you.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

  “No, I didn’t really imagine that it would be.”

  “When did your controller learn that I was to deliver the report?”

  “When it was discovered that the marquess didn’t plan to go to Whitehall and deliver it in person, I believe the connection was made.” She lifted her shoulders. “I’m not entirely sure. I suppose, since Mr. Turner was on the guest list here and he’s the person to whom the report is to be delivered, it seemed obvious.”

  “Perhaps, but you have yet to tell me why you’ve turned thief.”

  She winced at the term, even though she deserved it. She also knew there was nothing he could do to help her. Her situation was entirely hopeless, but the thought of disappointing him made her dislike what she’d been forced to become. He might as well know her true reason, then he might find it in his heart to forgive her.

  “My brother’s been kidnapped by the man who controls me,” she said simply.

  Lord Robert, standing directly in front of her, elevated both brows. “Your brother?”

  “Yes, my father was a well-respected pharmacist and Vincenzo went into the same profession. His life’s work is making medicines to ease common ailments.”

  “I’ve heard encouraging reports about Sicilian pharmacy.”

  “With good reason.” Her breath hitched. “But now Vincenzo has been kidnapped, and I can’t bear it. He and I are very close.”

  “Which is why Vincenzo has been taken.” Lord Robert ground his jaw, looking very angry. Electra shuddered, hoping that anger wasn’t directed at her. Luci’s warnings about him being dangerous filtered through her brain, forcing her to concede that her maid had been right. “Presumably the people who have him knew it would take something that radical to bend you to their will.”

  Electra jutted her chin. “Exactly.”

  “I thought your family were involved with Marsala wine.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “That’s one of my husband’s family’s many concerns.”

  “You no longer live with them?”

  “No, when my husband died I returned to live with my own family.”

  “Tell me about your brother.”

  “He came to London to give a talk at the London Medical College about the healing qualities of the herbs he uses for his medicines, and suggested I come too.”

  Lord Robert pulled a sceptical face. “He will have his work cut out, convincing some of those die-hards that there’s merit in his methods.”

  “He’s aware of that. His thoughts are on the future, and it’s the younger set he hoped to influence.”

  “You agreed to come with him to England.” Lord Robert treated her to a penetrating glance as he assimilated the information she’d just revealed.

  “Vincenzo felt I’d been confined to Sicily for too long. There was nothing to keep me there and he persuaded me that a change of scenery would benefit my health.”

  “You’d been unwell?”

  Electra thought of her dead son, of how she’d wished she could have died with him because she no longer had anything to live for and would never recover from his loss. Her breathing hitched and her eyes flooded with tears. She turned away from Lord Robert, not wishing him to see, and took a moment to regain her composure. The opportunity to pour out the truth, to persuade him to believe her even though there was nothing he could do about her situation, was cathartic. “Yes. Vincenzo knew I’d long wished to come to these shores to play chess against some of the players I knew only by reputation, yourself included.”

  “Why had you not done so before now?”

  She screwed up her nose for a second time. “My husband’s father forbade it.”

  Lord Robert elevated one brow. “He controlled your movements to that degree?”

  Electra shuddered. “He uses everything and everyone who’s unfortunate enough to fall beneath his control.”

  “You weren’t compelled to come for any other reason?”

  “No, but what I didn’t realise was that my accompanying Vincenzo wasn’t initially his idea. Someone else suggested it and Vincenzo thought it a good idea.”

  “Who suggested it?”

  “Maynard.” She twisted her lips into a snarl as she said the hated name. “He’s my brother’s partner and finds markets for their products. Vincenzo is clever with herbs but has no idea about commerce, you see.”

  “It’s Maynard then who’s taken your brother and is threatening you?”

  “Yes. The marquess’s report is critical for the future of our country. Many influential men are willing to take big risks to gain early intelligence of its contents.”

  “I’m well aware of that.” Lord Robert paced the room, rubbing his chin, clearly thinking about what she’d told him. “Your royal family removed its court from Naples to the relative safety of Palermo at the start of the war, where it was protected by the British occupation.”

  “We’re used to being occupied, Lord Robert. Our strategic position makes us a very useful staging post for friends and foes alike.”

  “Is that how your husband became a conte? As the son of a marchese, I don’t believe that title would be his as a matter of right.”

  “No,” she said bitterly. “But my father-in-law is a ruthlessly ambitious man. When the royal family came to Palermo, he immediately saw it as an opportunity to increase his influence in royal circles. He was in and out of court all the time himself and used his influence to have Philippe appointed a conte palatino—”

  “Presumably your father-in-law’s purpose was to have someone close to him who had an ear in circles less elevated than his own.”

  “I always imagined so, but he didn’t confide in me.”

  “Your husband became Conte Gravina but you—”

  “As his countess, I followed the Italian tradition and kept my own family’s name.”

  “And now the conflict is over and the British are set to withdraw.”

  “Yes, leaving the future of vital trading contracts up for renegotiation. Your brother’s recommendations to your foreign secretary are vital. Anyone who knows what those recommendations contain is likely to make a fortune.” She fixed Lord Robert with a wan smile, unable to keep the disgust out of her expression. “It’s just the sort of opportunity that Maynard, and those he works with, will stop at nothing to exploit.”

  “I thought he was your brother’s partner. Are you suggesting that your brother—”

  “Oh no.” She looked up at him. “Vincenzo does work with him, and Maynard is good at what he does, but my brother didn’t go into partnership with him through choice.”

  “Then why?”

  She offered him a derisive smile. “One doesn’t say no to the people behind Maynard. They financed Vincenzo’s research and reserved the right to handle the manufacture and distribution of his medicines.”

  “You know who controls him.”

  “Oh yes.” She shot him a droll glance. “Didn’t I say? Maynard’s my father-in-law’s right-hand man.”


  Chapter Nine

  Rob now understood the contessa’s unwillingness to reside with the Gravinas following her husband’s death. He’d been wondering about that. He also wondered about her brother’s poor choice of associate, assuming she’d told him the truth about that. It seemed that Vincenzo had allowed a grasping sponsor to take control of his affairs, which left him with little option other than to do as he was told. The Gravina family had wielded considerable power in Sicily before the war. Rob suspected that their affairs had suffered during the conflict, due to export limitations. It would certainly explain why the marchese was so ruthlessly determined to reestablish himself, using her as a pawn to bring that situation about.

  Rob would like to know a great deal more about the nature of her marriage to Philippe Gravina but, even supposing she’d tell him, now wasn’t the time to ask. If she was to be believed, then she’d been controlled and manipulated all her adult life, probably imagining that situation would come to an end with her husband’s death. Instead her circumstances had worsened. The Gravinas could no longer use her to get what they wanted because she’d removed herself from their control. So they turned to the thing she loved the most—her brother—to coerce her into doing their bidding.

  If that’s what had actually happened.

  The previous evening he’d all but told her he knew what she was about. That had given her ample opportunity to invent stories that would invoke his sympathy and absolve her from blame. This situation could have absolutely nothing to do with her husband’s family, or her own brother. She might well have a Sicilian lover for whom she’d agreed to steal the report.

  But what if she was telling the truth?

  Her anguish and disgust with her husband’s family seemed completely genuine. So were the tears he saw briefly in her eyes but which she didn’t try to exploit.

  “Do you know where your brother is now?” he asked.

  “No, he presented his paper in London, and then disappeared.”

  “Forgive me, but how can you be sure that he’s still alive?”

  “I was permitted to speak to him, very briefly, in a public street in London just before I set out for Lord Billingham’s estate.”

  Rob’s head jerked back with surprise. “A kidnap victim was paraded in a public street?”

  “Yes.” Her bosom swelled with indignation. “He’d been beaten. I saw bruises on his face and he could only walk with the help of Maynard’s minions. I think they were proud of what they’d done to him.”

  “Even so, one of you could have shouted for help.”

  “Hardly. One of Maynard’s men was holding a dagger to Vincenzo’s side. He would have been stabbed if either of us made a fuss.”

  “Hmm.”

  Her account sounded farfetched and Rob now had serious doubts about her entire story.

  “Besides,” she added, “Gravina prefers to keep him alive so he can continue to manufacture his drugs.”

  “In that case, you don’t need to fear for his life.”

  “I said prefers. He would kill him without a second thought if I went against his wishes. He would then blame Vincenzo’s death on me.” She sniffed back her tears. “And if I fail to acquire the report then it will be my fault.”

  “You’re not to blame. Tell him I’ve rumbled you and be done with it.”

  “You don’t understand,” she cried passionately. “My brother is the only person I have left who’s ever mattered to me. The only one who doesn’t want something from me and loves me simply for being myself.”

  It would take a harder man than Rob would ever be not to be moved by her passion. “You love him very much.”

  “Oh yes.” Her eyes shimmered. “He’s a year younger than me but completely brilliant. His mind is as sharp as a razor. We spent our entire childhood together, but even then his curiosity about plants was paramount and we all knew he had a dazzling future ahead of him.” She smiled through her tears. “We had a sheltered childhood and sometimes it felt like the two of us against the world. If he dies, you might as well put a dagger through my own heart since I couldn’t live with his death on my conscience.”

  “Then you shall not,” Rob said, coming to a decision.

  Her head shot up. “What do you mean?”

  “Turner has had a change of plan, didn’t I mention it?”

  “No, what do you mean? Is he not coming here?”

  “No.”

  The contessa fixed him with a distraught gaze. “Then I’ve failed.”

  “Have courage, signora, or at the very least, a little faith in me.”

  She expelled an anguished sigh. “I don’t understand why you’d even consider my feelings, not after the way I’ve behaved towards you.”

  He cocked a brow. “Are you quite sure about that?”

  She didn’t seem equal to meeting his gaze. “What happens now? About the report, I mean.”

  I’ve been told to return to my brother’s house so the report can be delivered to him there.”

  A shudder passed through her. “Dio aiuto me!”

  “Don’t despair. We shall get the better of this Maynard blaggard.” If he really is the villain of the piece. “Presumably you have a means of communicating with him.”

  “Yes. If I send word to the local inn, he’ll meet me here in the grounds, behind the stables.”

  “How the devil does he get in?”

  She lifted her shoulders. “I have no idea.”

  “The perimeter’s extensive, and so I suppose there must be ways. He’s chosen his location well. The area behind the stables is wooded, so it’s easy enough to avoid being seen.”

  “You’d know more about that than me.”

  “Get word to him. Tell Maynard of the change of plan and that you’ve been invited to travel back to the Hall with me.”

  She gasped, a glimmer of hope dislodging the despair in her eyes. “You’d take me with you, even though I tried to steal from you?”

  Rob kept his expression neutral. “You didn’t do so through choice.”

  “Even so, why would you help me?”

  “My loyalties lie with my brother and he will want to flush Maynard out. When you meet with him, tell him you’ll only continue to seek the papers if you see your brother again. Your desire to reassure yourself that he’s still alive will seem perfectly natural.”

  She blinked several times. “How will that help?”

  “My brother’s estate is on the outskirts of a small village called Denby. As our guest you wouldn’t be able to travel far from it without giving us a plausible explanation.”

  She nodded slowly, a sultry smile curling the corners of her lips. Rob tried to ignore the effect it had on him. He absolutely wouldn’t allow the attraction he felt towards her to break through his guard until he was absolutely sure she was telling him the truth.

  “That means Maynard would have to bring Vincenzo to Denby.”

  “Exactly, and it’s a small place. I should imagine that we’d be able to find where he’s keeping him and rescue him without too much trouble.”

  “You make it all sound so easy, my lord, but Maynard is brutal. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill you if you’re caught.” She clasped her hands together in her lap and stared fixedly at them. “I couldn’t ask you to take that risk.”

  “You’re not asking, I’m offering.”

  “You planned all of this, didn’t you? Cancelling Mr. Turner’s visit and taking me back to Denby.” This time her smile was brittle. “When did you intend to tell me?”

  “When were you planning to offer me an explanation?”

  “Yes, you’re right.” She rotated her shoulders as though seeking to relax them. “I have no right to criticise your arrangements. Your first consideration must be for the report.”

&nb
sp; “It’s always better to fight on home soil,” Rob explained. “Besides, as soon as I knew that Turner might be in danger, I warned my brother and it was his decision to cancel Turner’s visit. You couldn’t have obtained the report, you see, since it isn’t in writing. I carry it in my head.”

  The contessa groaned. “I wish I’d known.”

  “We considered letting you find a false report, but I decided against that. It wouldn’t have taken Maynard long to realise there was something not quite right about it, and there was no telling what he might have done then.”

  “If you thought I was in league with him, why would you care?”

  “I was hoping my instincts were right and that you weren’t a willing spy.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “No,” he said, with a wolfish smile. “But, if memory serves, you do owe me a kiss.”

  She sent him a disbelieving look. “You can think of such things at a time like this?”

  She was obviously trying to appear severe but the tremor in her hands and the manner in which she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue gave her away.

  “When I’m in the same room as you, I seldom think about anything else.”

  He took her hand, pulled her to her feet and straight into his arms. His brain told him this was a bad idea. He still wasn’t convinced she was the innocent she made herself out to be, but he seemed powerless to help himself. Their bodies collided, and her curves melded against the hard planes of his chest as though they had always belonged there. His lips roved over hers, experimentally at first, and then hungry and demanding.

  She capitulated with a soft little moan that delighted him, driving him on. Her mouth was warm and inviting as his tongue slid between her lips and tangled with hers. He deepened the kiss, feeding from the sweetness of her mouth as his hands slid down her back and came to rest on her derriere. He clasped its small globes, pulling her closer to his burgeoning desire. A deeper groan escaped her—Rob had no idea how, since he was still comprehensively kissing her, but he felt euphoric by all that it implied. He was on fire, burning with a deep need to take matters further. Her reaction made it seem as though she felt the exact same way.