Finessing the Contessa

by Wendy Soliman

  “No,” Lord and Lady Denby said together.

  “You won’t come to any harm, Lady Falzone,” Lord Denby continued alone. “Maynard won’t try anything underhand because he needs you to obtain the report.”

  “I’m perfectly comfortable going alone,” Electra assured them.

  “Rob and I will ride through the village just when you’re due to meet with Maynard,” Lord Denby said. “We’ll make sure he sees us and you can tell him we’re away for the afternoon to attend to business in Dover. In actual fact, we’ll simply ride through the village and come back to the Hall the back way.”

  “Why do you need Maynard to think that you’re not at home?” Electra asked.

  “So you can tell him that you’ll obtain sight of the report that afternoon while Rob and I are away from home and meet him again late tomorrow afternoon. Provided he releases your brother at that time, you’ll give him a written précis of the report’s contents.”

  “Why late in the afternoon?” Lord Robert asked.

  “If Maynard’s bound for France, his easiest route will be from Dover. Unless he’s arranged a private ship, which I doubt—”

  “He’ll have to take the packet that leaves with the post on the morning tide,” Lord Robert finished for him. “I see your thinking. It will give us time to organise ourselves and I can still beat him to France in The Celandine.”

  “Precisely. My ship’s faster than the public ferry.”

  Electra smiled at both gentlemen. “You’ve thought of everything and left me with nothing to do.”

  “We’ve certainly tried,” Lord Robert said. “We’d abandon the whole plan before placing you in danger.”

  “I have complete trust in you, gentlemen.” Electra stood. “If you will excuse me, it’s already after eleven. I ought to change and be ready to leave.”

  “As should we.” Lord Denby bent to kiss Leah’s brow, then turned his attention to Miss Elliott. “Don’t leave her alone until I return. I don’t trust her to behave herself.”

  * * *

  Beth stood at the window, watching the curricle with Lady Falzone in it bowl down the long gravel driveway. Hal and Rob appeared soon afterwards, astride matching grey horses. Beth felt a sense of unease as she watched them go, but had no idea what had caused it. Hal and Rob would be in no danger in Denby, and Beth would enjoy some time alone with Leah. The feeling persisted but she ignored it and returned to her seat beside her sister.

  “They’re leaving,” she said, pouring Leah a second cup of tea.

  “Good. Let’s hope it goes well for the contessa.”

  “You like her?”

  “I hardly know her but she seems charming.” Leah shifted as she tried and failed to find a more comfortable position.

  “Yes, I thought that too.”

  “Hal’s still reserving judgement. Perhaps this meeting in the village today will settle matters one way or the other. I was...argh!”

  The cup and saucer fell from Leah’s hand, its contents spilling over the Turkish rug beneath her feet. She doubled over, clutching her stomach and groaning.

  “Leah!” Beth rushed to her side and took her hand. “Is it the baby?”

  “I...I think so.”

  Beth’s first reaction was to panic. Of all the damnable timing! She had no idea what to do but forced herself to remain calm so that her anxiety didn’t communicate itself to Leah.

  “It’s too soon, isn’t it?” she asked hopefully. “Perhaps it’s just wind.”

  “Apparently not.”

  “All right.” Beth squeezed her sister’s hand, telling herself that these things took hours and that there was no immediate cause for alarm. Unless something was wrong? Don’t think that way. “Breathe deeply and stay as calm as you can. I’ll call Meg.”

  Beth jumped up and rang the bell. Meg had been their servant when their parents were still alive. She was more like a mother to them, and although she’d retired to a cottage on the grounds when Leah married, she still kept a close eye on the girls. Meg was the first person they both thought to call in such circumstances.

  “Should I send someone to bring Hal back?”

  “No,” Leah gasped. “I’m told that first babies make a habit of taking their time. He’s better off out of it.”

  “How about the doctor?” Beth asked after a footman answered the bell and was despatched to fetch Meg.

  “Perhaps the midwife from the village. I have more faith in her abilities than in those of a fancy doctor.”

  When Meg arrived, she was the epitome of calm. “Come on, lamb, let’s get you upstairs.”

  Beth and Meg supported Leah as she struggled to her feet.

  “Let me fetch Gabe,” Beth said. “He could carry you up.”

  “Heavens no, I can manage.”

  Beth made sure the rest of the household continued with its normal routine, even though anxious faces appeared as Leah slowly mounted the stairs. Presumably they were afraid of what the master would say when he returned.

  Meg and Beth helped Leah to undress and got her into bed. Leah groaned as another cramp hit her.

  It was going to be a long day.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Electra breathed deeply, doing all she could to quell her nerves as the curricle made the five-mile journey from the Hall to Denby village. She continually reminded herself that she had nothing to fear since she was blessed with two such formidable protectors in the shape of Lord Robert and the marquess. Lord Denby might not trust her but he wouldn’t allow any harm to befall her.

  No, she wasn’t afraid, but she was nervous.

  She hated how Maynard looked at her with such hungry anticipation, as though he thought that one day he might... Never! She despised him for taking advantage of her brother’s trusting nature. Electra had frequently warned Vincenzo not to be taken in by him. Maynard was only loyal to one person, and that was Gravina. Most of all she abhorred the fact that Maynard never missed an opportunity to make snide comments about Philippe and her dead child.

  He’d known where Philippe’s preferences lay, of course. There were few secrets in the Gravina household to which Maynard wasn’t a party. He also knew how much Electra had loved little Augusto and how desperately she mourned his loss. She would give her right arm to have him restored to her and blamed herself for not being at Gravina’s palazzo on that fateful day. Had she been so, in all likelihood her son would still be alive today. Electra had yet to find a way to live with the huge gap in her life, to say nothing of the guilt she felt.

  Maynard exploited peoples’ weaknesses, using them as weapons to undermine anyone who opposed him. That was why he often mentioned her son’s name. It was a sure means of unbalancing her. Why he felt the need to do so when he held all the cards, Electra was at a loss to explain. All she knew was that she despised him and heartily wished never to set eyes on the man again, much less negotiate with him for her brother’s release.

  She hadn’t explained any of that to Lord Robert. It was her burden to bear alone. Besides, honourable gentlemen such as Lord Robert sometimes acted impulsively when roused and her conscience wouldn’t allow for him to endanger himself. She’d already lost too many of the people whom she loved.

  Love? Was that what she felt for the suave sophisticate who occupied an increasing number of her thoughts? A warm feeling surged through her as she considered the possibility. The only other person apart from her parents and her brother she’d ever loved was Augusto. What she felt for Lord Robert wasn’t anything like the fiercely protective love with which a mother surrounded her child.

  But even so...

  The curricle slowed as they entered Denby’s main street. It recalled her attention to the here and now as she looked about with interest. She and Lord Robert had arrived at the Hall from the opposite directi
on and this was her first sight of the village. Lady Denby had told her it was a small place, frequented mostly by seamen from nearby Dover, local fishermen and traders. The Boar’s Head tavern appeared to be doing a brisk trade, even at this time of day.

  Lord Denby’s boat was anchored in the bay immediately behind the tavern, but Electra couldn’t see any sign of it from the road. There were plenty of people about, many of whom looked at her quizzically. Presumably they recognised the Forster curricle and wondered who the stranger was who occupied it.

  Electra tried to decide which of the men loitering outside the tavern and in the street were in Lord Denby’s employ. Several of his crew had been told to keep a careful watch on her meeting with Maynard, apparently, as had some of the employees from the Hall. She didn’t recognise any faces but still felt protected, just by knowing they were there and she was no longer fighting her battles alone.

  “Here we are, m’lady.” The groom pulled the conveyance to a halt, jumped down and assisted Electra to the ground.

  “Thank you. Please wait for me here. I shan’t be long.”

  “Very good, ma’am. The draper’s is just along a few hundred feet on the left.”

  “Yes, I see it.” Electra put up her parasol, even though there wasn’t much sun, and strolled to the establishment in question. She looked in the window and tried not to wince. A less enticing display of merchandise she couldn’t ever recall seeing. She’d noticed that fashions in England were similar in many respects to the styles prevalent in the rest of Europe. Italian designs had more flair, in her opinion, and the selection of fabrics was wider, as was the use Italian women put them to.

  The fabrics on display in this draper’s establishment left a lot to be desired, she thought, turning up her nose at a bolt of worsted material that held absolutely no appeal. Perhaps in such a small village the draper catered for a poorer class of customer. Presumably Lady Denby and other ladies of her ilk replenished their wardrobes in London.

  Vincenzo had promised her they would visit some of the more famous London warehouses while they were in England. She’d been looking forward to making closer comparisons between European and English fashions. In the light of subsequent events, that ambition seemed shallow and rather pointless.

  Electra pretended to be absorbed by the display as she anxiously awaited Vincenzo’s arrival. She was a few minutes early and her appearance was causing speculation among the villagers, perhaps because her carriage gown made her stand out as a foreigner. Heads turned in her direction, appraising her, and were slow to look away again. What if someone tried to engage her in conversation? She willed Maynard to arrive soon to prevent any unwanted attention, but there was no sign of him.

  An elderly lady emerged from the draper’s, her face wreathed with smiles. “May I be of assistance, ma’am? Is there something you specifically require? There is much more to see inside if you’d be good enough to step this way.”

  “Thank you, Miss Lewis, is it?” Electra asked, glancing at the name of the proprietor above the door.

  “Yes, indeed. How kind of you to notice.”

  “You must excuse me, Miss Lewis. I have an engagement but will call back again later to examine your charming shop.”

  The woman twittered like a bird but didn’t take the hint. Electra despaired of getting rid of her. She would prefer not to have too many witnesses to her meeting with Maynard. Fortunately another lady who appeared to know Miss Lewis descended upon the shop, rather like a ship under full sail, large hips swaying to the accompaniment of creaking whalebones. The woman paused at the door, gave Electra a long, considering stare, wished her a curt good morning and disappeared inside. Miss Lewis’s chatter stopped at once. She bobbed a hasty curtsey to Electra and followed the newcomer inside.

  Alone again, Electra wondered what she was supposed to do now. It was gone twelve and there was no sign of Maynard. Aware of the two women inside the shop sending her frequent glances through the window, Electra stepped away and strolled slowly in the direction of the tavern. She looked down and gasped when a pair of boots blocked her way.

  Maynard had arrived and she hadn’t seen him coming.

  Electra’s heart lifted when she saw Vincenzo beside him, looking furious but mercifully in one piece. A bull of a man Electra recognised from the Gravina household stood directly behind him, presumably to prevent Vincenzo from trying to escape. The bruises on Vincenzo’s face were fading and his clothing was clean and presentable. He wore a different coat and she wondered if it was the one that was missing from their Chelsea residence.

  Electra embraced Vincenzo warmly, not caring that they were in a public place, drawing more curious glances from passersby. “Are you all right, my dear?” she asked him in Italian.

  “Absolutely fine,” he responded in the same language, “but out of my mind with worry about you.”

  “As you can see, I’m perfectly well also. Your bruises are healing, I’m glad to see.”

  Vincenzo glowered at Maynard with murder in his eyes. “They won’t harm me, Electra. I beg you not to do anything that places you in danger for my sake.”

  “It’s all right. All I care about is you.”

  Vincenzo grasped both her arms. “They’re playing on your affection for me, don’t you see that? They’ll have to let me go eventually. They need me too much to do anything drastic. I beg you not to demean yourself.”

  “It’s all right. I shall do whatever’s necessary to secure your release.” Electra willed him to read her expression and understand that the Forsters were working with her.

  He seemed too angry to pick up her meaning. “No! This will all be over in a matter of days. Just hold firm and don’t give in to their demands.”

  “Touching as this reunion is,” Maynard said, smirking, “it has to end. You’ve seen your brother, contessa. Now you must keep your side of the bargain, if you want him to remain breathing, that is.”

  “Don’t threaten a lady, you oaf!” Vincenzo exploded.

  “It ain’t her whose life hangs in the balance.”

  Electra threw him a scathing glance. “You’ll get your report.”

  “When?”

  “I saw where Lord Denby keeps it. He and his brother are in Dover for the afternoon. I’ll copy down the relevant details when I get back and deliver them to you tomorrow at five. I ought to be able to slip away then without being missed.”

  “I’d prefer the original report.”

  “Idiota! You said yourself it would be risky enough stealing the report when I was at Lord Billingham’s and there were other strangers in the house. I can’t possibly do so here and expect to get away with it.”

  “Don’t do it at all, tesoro!” Vincenzo cried with passion. “Don’t do anything dishonourable for my sake. These bastardos won’t hurt me. I’m too valuable to them as a pharmacist.”

  “You’re not that valuable,” Maynard sneered.

  “I won’t steal the original report and there’s an end to it. I will copy out its contents, and that’s my final offer.”

  “Very well,” Maynard said with patent reluctance. “But don’t try and gull me. I’ll know if it’s not accurate.”

  “Unlike some I could name, I keep my word. Besides, how would I know what to write if I don’t see the report? I know nothing about trade. But,” Electra added, forcing herself to remain calm, “I shall bring some of Lord Denby’s servants with me on some pretext or other and you won’t get my findings if you don’t release Vincenzo unharmed.”

  “No need to involve Denby’s servants,” Maynard said. “I’ll let him go. I’ve had enough of his bellyaching, anyway.”

  Vincenzo shuffled and took a step towards her, which is when she noticed he was limping quite badly. “What happened?” she asked anxiously.

  “He tried to escape is what happened,” Maynard growled.


  “This oaf grabbed my legs,” he said, liquid venom in his tone as he glowered over his shoulder at the man behind him. “Otherwise I’d have been clean away. I fell and somehow badly sprained my ankle. It’s nothing serious.”

  “And tore your clothing, I suspect. Someone fetched clean clothes for you from Chelsea.”

  “Yes.”

  Electra was filled with rage. “If you dare to lay so much as a finger on him, I swear by all I hold most dear that I’ll have my revenge.”

  “All you hold most dear is dead,” Maynard said with an air of detached amusement.

  Electra gasped, the air leaving her lungs in an extravagant whoosh. Why did she allow him to overset her so? She’d known he’d make some reference to Augusto, had thought she was prepared for that eventuality, but still gave him the satisfaction of showing how easily he could distress her.

  Two grey horses trotted down the centre of the street at that moment, ridden by the marquess and Lord Robert. Their lordships were chatting to one another and didn’t appear to take any notice of her. She was filled with the desire to call them over and have them rescue Vincenzo. Her nerves were stretched to breaking point and she was unsure how much longer she could tolerate her situation. She resisted, aware that the Forsters needed her to go through with this charade so they could discover how Pallister and their stepmother were involved.

  “There go their lordships,” she said. “I ought to get straight back and do your dirty work while I have the opportunity.”

  “Be brave,” Vincenzo said as they embraced. “And don’t worry about me.”

  “I worry about you all the time.” She returned his embrace and then turned back to the curricle before Maynard could see the tears in her eyes.

  * * *

  “I don’t like the cut of those rogues one bit.” Rob scowled as he took a good look at the men confronting Electra, managing to see their features clearly even though observing them sideways from beneath the brim of his hat.

  Hal grimaced. “I didn’t imagine you would.”

  “We ought to simply pull her brother out and be done with it.”