The Widowed Countess

by Linda Rae Sande

  Eva.

  Jeffrey Althorpe, Baron Sommers, closed his eyes for a moment after reading the simple missive. To hell with waiting until the fashionable hour. Eva was waiting for him.

  Lady Evangeline sat by herself drinking a cup of tea in the parlor of her brother’s house. Alfred Tennison, Earl of Everly, had left some time ago, shortly after asking that his carriage be brought around. Curious, Evangeline thought to ask if she might join him on his errand, intending to use the time to tell him she had accepted Lord Sommers’ offer of a ride in the park. But Alfred’s attention was entirely on a book he had open and was apparently reading as he made his way to the vestibule. Sighing audibly in the hopes he might hear her, Evangeline resigned herself to another early afternoon spent alone at Rosemount House.

  She was about to pour herself another cup of tea when Jones, the butler, cleared his throat. “Do I have a caller?” Evangeline asked before Jones could announce anything. She was nearly to her feet, hoping some lady of the ton had remembered she was sequestered in her brother’s house for the Season and had taken pity on her by paying a call.

  Jones held his hands together behind his back, his discomfort apparent. “Lord Sommers has asked if he might have a word,” he intoned, obviously bothered by the impropriety of a gentleman calling on an unmarried woman without there being a companion or chaperone present.

  Evangeline was sure her suddenly thundering heartbeats could be heard from across the room. He was here. Already. She dared a glance at the mantel clock, surprised to see it was only two o’clock. “Well, do see him in, Jones,” she responded, just then realizing the baron was probably there to see her brother and not her. “He is here to see Lord Everly, I suppose,” she added as she nervously smoothed her skirts. Of all the eligible gentlemen in the ton, Jeffrey Althorpe was not a man she would expect to have calling on her, but one could always hope. His earlier missive had been such a surprise, she had immediately written a reply. “He only asked if your ladyship was in residence and apologizes for arriving earlier than his note indicated.”

  The thundering heartbeats nearly deafened her to Jones’ last words – until she heard the part about an apology. Perhaps the earl had changed his mind and was withdrawing his offer of a ride in the park. “Do send him in, then. I shouldn’t like to keep a baron waiting.”

  The butler took a breath and looked as if he was about to argue, but he must have seen the flush that colored Evangeline’s face. “Right away, my lady,” he replied, turning on his heels and leaving the parlor.

  Evangeline took a deep breath in an attempt to compose herself. Lord Sommers was calling on her. Yes, he was one of her brother’s friends, and yes, he probably spent far too much time playing cards at White’s, and, yes, there was the hint from something her brother had said that Sommers had employed a mistress, but at that moment, none of those things mattered. Besides, if the man had a wife, he would no doubt spend more time at Sommers Place, his Mayfair mansion on Cavendish Square, and less time pretending to be a rake.

  He wasn’t really a rake, Evangeline considered just then. He couldn’t be if he was a friend of her brother’s. Everly would never consort with a rake, although he might if said rake was an explorer or adventurer or a member of the Royal Academy of Sciences. She had barely finished this last thought when she realized Lord Sommers was regarding her from the doorway. She struggled to withhold a gasp, for he was quite imposing, dressed for a ride in a smart, perfectly tailored scarlet jacket and buckskin breeches that hugged his muscular thighs. His black Hessians were polished to a high shine, and he held a riding crop in one black kid-gloved hand. She supposed she should have wondered why he hadn’t given it to the butler when he gave up his hat, but it seemed to give him an air of superiority. A shiver shot through her when she imagined him wielding it. What awful deed might she commit that would have him threatening her with it? Her cheeks blushed a bright pink when she realized what she was imagining.

  Blinking in an effort to pull her thoughts from those better left in a bedchamber, Evangeline forced herself to concentrate on Lord Sommers’ other attributes.

  Bowing deeply before saying a word of greeting, Lord Sommers’ eyes seemed to caress her. “Lady Evangeline, please do pardon my interruption,” he said, his voice almost a plea.

  Evangeline, her lips slightly parted from her surprise at his appearance, afforded him a deep curtsy. Even before she had returned to a standing position, Sommers had moved into the room and reached for her hand, lifting it to his lips so that he could bestow a kiss on her knuckles. His lips didn’t just brush over her skin as she expected they might, but rather took purchase and kissed her as she imagined he might kiss her lips. A tremor shook her body, the shock of his touch so unexpected and so pleasurable, she had to suppress another gasp. “Of course, Lord Sommers. You are most welcome at Rosemount whenever you should wish to call,” she managed to get out, keeping a small smile in place. She felt almost giddy that Sommers would kiss the back of her hand as he’d done. Indeed, he hadn’t yet let go of her hand. And, at the moment, she didn’t really care if she ever got it back. As far as she was concerned, he could keep it.

  Sommers seemed relieved to hear her response, his expression otherwise one of indecision. “My lady, I ...” He glanced back at the open door, wondering if the butler hovered somewhere beyond. “I know this may seem ... untoward,” he struggled to get out, “But I was wondering if we might go for a ride in the park a bit earlier than I indicated in my note. I realize it’s not the fashionable hour, but by that time this afternoon, I’m rather hoping I will have completed courting you and have an affirmative response to my request for your hand in marriage. So that I might find myself on the morrow at Doctor’s Commons in pursuit of a special license so that we might marry in a few days.” The words had come tumbling out, with no hint of embarrassment or self-doubt or regard for propriety.

  Lady Evangeline stared at Lord Sommers for a moment, blinking before a brilliant smile appeared. “You’re not being the least bit untoward, Lord Sommers,” she replied with a slight shake of her head. Marriage? Lord Sommers intended to ask for her hand!

  “Jeffrey,” he stated, his hand moving to hold hers more tightly. “You should call me Jeffrey,” he added, taking a step closer to her.

  “And you should call me Evangeline. Or Eva, if you prefer,” she countered, realizing her heart had settled into a rhythm that, although still entirely too fast, was at least quiet enough that she could hear her own words.

  “Eva,” Sommers breathed, his lips suddenly hovering over hers.

  Evangeline closed her eyes as his lips settled over hers, as the hand that held the riding crop moved to the back of her shoulder to pull her body forward just a bit. She took a step forward so that her entire body collided with the front of his. Her free hand reached up to rest on his shoulder and then moved to the back of his neck as his lips opened against hers. She allowed her lips to follow suit, aware that the tip of his tongue was brushing over her teeth.

  At some point, a moan or a mewl escaped her, which only encouraged Sommers to deepen the kiss. The hand that held hers released it and came to rest on the back of her waist, pulling her body harder against his. The bulge behind the fall of his breeches pressed into her soft belly through the fabric of her gown. He rather wished there was less fabric separating them. Far less. None, in fact, but there would be more appropriate places for that.

  Evangeline thrilled at the realization that she had caused his arousal, not for a moment frightened by what could happen next. Lord Sommers was going to ask for her hand!

  “Eva,” he whispered, his lips pulling away from hers so they could leave soft kisses along her jawline.

  “Jeffrey,” she whispered back, her hand sliding through the waves of his silken brown hair. She was sure she felt a shiver pass through him as his lips moved to her earlobe. In a moment, his teeth were teasi
ng the soft flesh, sending shivers through Evangeline unlike anything she had felt before. The hand behind her waist moved up and around so it rested on the side of one breast, the thumb caressing her suddenly hardening nipple. Evangeline couldn’t stifle the small shriek that erupted from her throat.

  Jeffrey’s lips moved to cover hers, kissing her as he repeated the stroke over her nipple. “Marry me, Eva,” he whispered, his lips moving to cover hers before she could reply.

  Evangeline nodded against his lips. When he finally pulled away to take a breath, she said simply, “Yes.” She was aware of the hand next to her breast moving to somewhere inside his coat, so that he had to pull his body away from hers for a moment. Then her left hand was held in his and a ring was sliding onto her finger.

  “It’s not the real one, of course,” he murmured, his forehead coming to rest on hers. “But I’ll have one far better by tomorrow,” he promised, his whisper urgent.

  Evangeline dared a glance at her left hand, stunned when she realized his opal signet ring was wrapped around her middle finger.

  “You have made me a very happy man, Eva,” he whispered, his lips saying the words against hers.

  “And you have made me a very happy woman, Jeffrey,” she replied with a sigh. “Perhaps ... perhaps we could just skip the ride and continue this instead?” she wondered, her words coming out in little breaths. Had she taken a moment to consider what she had just said, she might have gasped and begged forgiveness for her impropriety. But the look on Jeffrey’s face suggested he would be most disappointed if she did such a thing.

  “As my lady wishes,” he replied with an enthusiastic nod. “Although, I do believe I need to sit down. You have left me quite unable to stand of my own volition.”

  Eva giggled, leading him to a large wing chair. Even as he sat down, he pulled her atop him, settling her so her bottom rested on one of his thighs and her head settled against his shoulder. “My brother said nothing,” she whispered, suddenly irate that Everly wouldn’t share the good news of her impending betrothal to Lord Sommers.

  Jeffrey let out a snort. “That’s because I haven’t yet asked his permission to court you,” he replied, his arms wrapping around her body so his hands were clasped together as they rested on her hip.

  “Oh,” Evangeline replied, wondering if she should be disappointed that he hadn’t followed protocol. “I do not think he’ll object,” she murmured, reaching out with her lips to kiss his jaw.

  “He had better not, or the Earl of Torrington will have his hide,” Christian stated, his own lips moving to cover hers for a quick kiss.

  Evangeline straightened on his lap, eliciting a slight gasp from Jeffrey as her hip pressed harder against his hardened manhood. “What does my godfather have to do with this?” she wondered, her brows furrowing together.

  Jeffrey had to suppress a chuckle. “Your brother may be blind to love, my lady, but Grandby is not. He’s a rather convincing matchmaker when he puts his mind to it.”

  Evangeline regarded Jeffrey for a moment. “You didn’t ask for my hand because he ordered you to do so, did you?” she asked, suddenly doubtful of the baron’s intentions.

  Jeffrey tilted his head to one side. “No,” he replied carefully. “Although I admit I am asking a bit sooner than I expected to be able to, only because he said he would see to your brother on my behalf.”

  His future baroness seemed satisfied with his answer, for she settled her head back onto his shoulder. “Would it be alright if we had a small, quiet wedding?” she whispered, her lashes resting on the tops of her cheekbones as if she might take a nap in a moment or two.

  A chuckled erupted from Jeffrey just then. “I would prefer it, but I want you to have the wedding of your dreams,” he murmured sleepily.

  “Mmm,” she purred, her eyes still closed.

  In a moment, her even breathing indicated to Jeffrey that she had fallen asleep in his arms. He gave a sigh of his own as he closed his eyes and concentrated on the scent of honeysuckle that wafted around her blonde bun and ringlets. Not only had Lady Evangeline given him the kind of response he could only fantasize about, she had been everything Sommers had hoped in the woman he would one day marry. Even if that day was just a few days hence. Had he followed Grandby’s instructions to the letter, he would be taking the lady for a ride in the park later that afternoon, perhaps choosing to detour on foot through the lesser-used walking paths among the trees. He would ask to court her before they left the park, and then he would ask for her hand when he was depositing her on the steps of Lord Everly’s home with the promise of a ring the following day.

  Instead, he had managed to accomplish an entire afternoon of courting in just a few moments. And an even greater miracle was that, despite the fact that the butler hovered just outside the parlor door, the man never once interrupted Lady Evangeline’s nap to take issue with him over the impropriety of how he held her or how she was positioned rather suggestively against most of his body. He was just deciding he was going to enjoy being leg-shackled when the sound of a carriage turning into the drive caused Evangeline to give a start and suddenly open her eyes.

  “Good afternoon, my beautiful,” he whispered with a teasing grin.

  There was a moment when Evangeline thought she had simply moved from one dream to the next, for to wake up in the arms of a man as handsome as Lord Sommers wasn’t something she ever hoped to do. But the light press of his lips against her forehead brought her back to reality and she smiled. “Are you quite sure you can abide a wife who would fall asleep in the arms of her intended?” she whispered, her furrowing brows suggesting she was quite serious.

  “Absolutely,” Jeffrey replied with a nod. He kissed her then, most thoroughly, just as the sound of the front door closing reached his ears.

  Evangeline was quite sure she had never moved so fast in her life, especially when it wasn’t of her own doing. For one moment she was nestled against the front of her betrothed and the next she was sitting quite primly on the settee and Jeffrey was back in the wing chair with a cup of tea covering the bulge in his crotch, regarding her as if none of the previous thirty minutes had happened.

  Her brother’s entrance into the parlor might have been a bit on the violent side, he no doubt having been briefed by Jones regarding the presence of Lord Sommers. But when he found his sister regarding him with an arched eyebrow and Sommers quite properly seated across from her, he relaxed. “Is it ...is it done then?” he asked, his attention going back and forth between the two.

  Jeffrey Althorpe stood and gave Evangeline’s brother a nod, wondering if Grandby had just spoken to the man. “I have asked for your sister’s hand, and she has accepted,” he replied with another nod. “And, as Lady Evangeline would prefer a small ceremony, I will see to a special license so that we might marry as early as ... next week?” He turned to confirm the arrangement with his fiancée.

  “That would be lovely,” she replied, giving her husband-to-be a brilliant smile.

  Lord Everly shrugged and gave the two each a nod. “What a relief. I can get on with my next trip. I was beginning to think I’d be stuck in England for the rest of my life.” Before either his sister or his future brother-in-law could respond, the explorer took his leave of the parlor.

  “That went well,” Evangeline commented lightly.

  “Indeed,” Jeffrey replied, the barest hint of disbelief in his voice.

  Later that night at White’s, when he sat at a card table with Lord Barrings, Sir Richard, and his future brother-in-law, Sommers couldn’t help but notice the Earl of Torrington sitting in a wingback chair nearby. In a voice he intended Grandby to overhear, he mentioned having had a rather memorable thirtieth birthday. “I have asked for the hand of a woman I have wanted to marry for some time, and she has agreed to be my wife,” he said proudly.

  Two of the other gentlemen rega
rded him with looks of surprise. “You? Married?” Lord Barrings replied, his astonishment apparent in the way his eyebrows lifted.

  “You sound like you want to be leg-shackled,” Sir Richard stated, his own bushy eyebrows raised in surprise.

  “Indeed? It’s too bad. I’d rather hoped you would consider my sister, Lady Evangeline,” Lord Everly stated sadly, his one eye winking in the baron’s direction. He picked up his cards and studied them, unaware of Sommers’ glare and the eyes he sent skyward.

  “Who’s the unlucky chit?” Lord Barrings asked as he raised a cheroot to his lips.

  “Pray tell,” Sir Richard encouraged.

  Sommers sighed and shook his head. “Her identity, gentlemen, is known only to myself and Grandby, who will be informing the brother involved,” he waved a hand toward the older earl, who acknowledged his comment with a nod, “Hopefully, tonight,” he added, wondering at Lord Everly’s claim to ignorance. “Oh, and the lady herself.”

  With that, he threw in his cards and left to pay a visit to Stedman and Vardon.

  The Earl of Torrington smiled.

  Chapter 24

  Dinner and a Show

  Allowing Daniel to pull out her chair, Clarinda took her place at the end of the long table in Norwick Park’s dining room, suddenly conscious of the fact that Daniel would be the only other diner that evening. In a surprising move that morning, Wallingham had no sooner arrived at Norwick Park before he whisked Dorothea off to Bognor, claiming he had business in Brighton and may as well escort her ladyship to her home on his way – never mind the twenty-five mile distance between the two locales.