The Countess and the Rake

by Georgette Brown

  “I FEEL BETTER,” GERTIE responded to Harrietta’s question as they strolled arm in arm down one of the allées of the Bennington property. “The lethargy is much improved, and it is a relief to be able to leave the house.”

  Also a relief was the lack of attention from Alexander once it became known that she was pregnant. She suspected that he had taken up once more with his mistress, for which she was glad. The Dowager paid little attention to her son for her supreme wish—that of an heir—had been satisfied. Her next project was ensuring that Sarah married Mr. Rowland in a wedding ceremony that would be the talk of London for years to come.

  “I can hardly believe how much I have had to loosen my stays,” Gertie commented. “I remember with you, the evidence that you were carrying was not visible until two months before the babe came!”

  “I thank you for your overstatement, but the blush of motherhood never sat upon me quite as lovely as it does you,” Harrietta returned.

  Gertie placed a hand to her belly. “I am in love with her already.”

  “Convinced of a daughter?”

  “I cannot attest to why, but I am nearly certain it is. Perhaps it is merely my hopes. I had always wished for a little sister growing up. A daughter would be perfect.”

  Somehow, she felt that Phineas would have been glad of a daughter. She rarely thought of the babe without thinking of Phineas. How bittersweet life could be!

  “The Dowager Lowry would be devastated,” Harrietta grinned.

  “And Alexander beyond disappointed, but, Hettie, I no longer care what they should think.”

  Harrietta squeezed her arm proudly. “Shall we see no more of Lady Athena for a spell?”

  “Aye, I know not that Lady Athena shall return to The Ballroom, but I shall always have a special place in my heart for her.”

  “I can hardly wait for the babe to arrive. I know our children will become the best of friends. It grows dark. Shall we return to the house?”

  They turned and headed back towards the house.

  “Do you suppose,” Gertie began after a moment of silence. “Do you suppose it would be awkward if I inquired from the Benningtons if they had word of Phineas—Lord Barclay?”

  “Do you wish that he had communicated with you?” Harrietta asked sharply.

  “Yes. And no. It would have broken my heart anew each time I heard from him. And yet, I wonder that he could sever me from consideration so easily?”

  “I doubt he did that. You were quite persuasive when last you spoke.”

  “Yes, but...I had expected that he would not have capitulated so easily lest his affections for me were less than profound.”

  Harrietta bit her lower lip. “Does it matter to you his affection for you?”

  “It should not alter the outcome, but it pains me to think that he did not care enough to attempt more than he did. I believe him to be the sort of man that allows no obstacle in the pursuit of his objective—certainly not where the fair sex is concerned.”

  “Gertie, I...“

  “I know there is little evidence to sustain my belief outside his seductions, but I felt it when I was with him. I suppose I had suffered many delusions where he is concerned.”

  “You did not,” Harrietta said with a heavy sigh. “Gertie, you may not forgive me once you hear what I am to say, but I hope you will know that I acted out of my love for you.”

  Puzzled, Gertie stared at her friend.

  “After you had—after our visit to the orphan asylum,” Harrietta unfolded, “I went to see Lord Barclay. It broke my heart to see you in such pain. And I suspected, as you did, that he might not relent so easily. When I had spoken with him, it was clear to me that he would not leave you alone. I revealed—I revealed that you were with child.”

  Gertie stopped in her tracks and allowed Harrietta’s arm to slip from hers. “He knows?”

  Harrietta nodded. “And I think that is the sole reason he ceased his pursuit of you. And I could tell it was no easy agreement for him. If ever a man loved with all his heart, it was—is Lord Barclay.”

  “Pardon me, madam, but did you speak the name of Barclay?”

  The two women turned to find one of the guests, an Army officer dressed in full regimentals, at their elbow. Harrietta glanced at Gertie, but neither recognized the man.

  “Who wishes to know?” Harrietta asked.

  The man bowed. “Major Summers, your servant, my ladies.”

  “There are any number of Barclays,” Gertie supplied.

  “I seek Phineas Barclay, a man who was assumed dead at one time.”

  “Are you an acquaintance of his?”

  “I should like to be.”

  The edge in the man’s voice gave Gertie pause. There was a look in his eye that she did not trust.

  She shrugged, “Alas, I think the last we heard he was in Bath.”

  “But you are acquaintances, or friends, of his?” Major Summers pressed.

  “My husband’s family is a distant relation of the Barclays. We are not close. If you would excuse us, we have a need to visit the powdering room.”

  Though the man had another question on his tongue, they swept past him before he could utter a word.

  “I wonder what he wanted of Phineas?” Gertie questioned aloud.

  “Do you despise me?” Harrietta asked.

  Gertie studied the aggrieved face of her best friend. She threw her arms about Harrietta. “Never! Never could I despise you. But I wonder that you did not speak to me sooner?”

  “I am a silly fool,” Harrietta laughed shakily.

  “You are indeed, Lady Dunnesford!”

  Harrietta returned the embrace. “Come, let us to the card tables. I will let you win at piquet.”

  “Are you so assured I would lose?”

  “After my first foray into cards, I vowed to be as adept as I could!”

  Gertie nodded, knowing the story behind the Marchioness and how she once found herself in debt to the wrong person. “I will need the winnings as I am sure Alexander will have been at dice for quite some time tonight!”

  They walked, arm in arm once more, to the card room. Gertie felt her thoughts swirling about her head like churning butter. She had a dozen questions she wished to ask of Harrietta, but they would have to wait until they could talk in greater privacy. Her tread felt lighter to think that perhaps it had not been such an easy thing for Phineas to give up on her. Phineas, Phineas, Phineas. She hoped he knew that it had not been easy for her to forsake him.

  And then she felt Harrietta stiffen. She looked up and felt the blood drain from her. It was as if her thoughts were toying with her vision, mocking her with the mirage of her memories. For there stood Phineas Barclay, as gloriously dressed as was his custom. The only aspect that made her question if he might not be an illusion after all were the dark crescents beneath his eyes and the whiteness about his lips when he caught her gaze. It seemed her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. She could move no limb. She could only stare, blinking, expecting him to disappear at any moment. But he did not. He stood as frozen as she.

  “I—I think I shall see if Vale wishes to join us in a round of whist,” Harrietta mumbled before scurrying into the card room.

  “I shall ask for our horses,” Robert Barclay said.

  Gertie had not even noticed the presence of the baron, but she knew that she now stood alone with Barclay. He spoke first.

  “Gertie.”

  The simple utterance, nearly a whisper upon his lips, told her that all that Harrietta had said was true. It was at once a caress and a tribute to time passed.

  He straightened and his tone became more formal. He bowed. “Countess, what an unexpected pleasure. I hope you are well?”

  His eyes searched her. She felt a lump growing in her throat. Nodding, she replied, “And you? You have been well?”

  He nodded. The silence of embarrassment over their mutual lies fell upon them.

  “I heard you had been in Bath,” Gertie said at
last.

  “And I leave for Scotland in a few days. From there...perhaps I shall travel to the Continent once more—Italy or Greece. I am sure to have a different perspective if I am there of mine own choosing.”

  The thought of him so far away wrenched her heart, but what did she expect?

  “Good tidings to you in your travels then,” Gertie said, the words sounding exceedingly lame in her own ears.

  A muscle twitched along his jaw, and the pain in his eyes was like a stab into the deepest part of her. There was much more to be said, much more she wished to speak to him, but the words would not emerge.

  “Felicitations to you—and to your family. I pray that you are happy, Gertie.”

  She shut her eyes to keep back the tears. Ye Gods, she cried silently. She wanted to crumble to the floor. The weight of their collective misery was too much to bear.

  “That is him,” a voice behind her said.

  She opened her eyes to see Major Summers striding up to Barclay. He was trembling with rage.

  “Lord Barclay,” Summers called out, “If you are a man, I demand satisfaction!”

  Barclay assessed the man with cool eyes.

  “And if I am not?” he returned blandly.

  That had the effect of making the Major more furious.

  “Then you, sir, are a coward!”

  Gertie saw Phineas’ nostrils flare ever so slightly.

  “I have been called far worse.”

  “Will you or will you not be a man?” Summers demanded.

  “My dear fellow,” Barclay said, retrieving his snuff box and flicking it open, “who the devil are you and why such an interest in my manhood?”

  Summers straightened in an attempt to match Barclay’s height. “I am Major Summers, aide-de-camp to the Duke of York, and you, sir, owe me satisfaction.”

  Gertie felt her stomach plummet. The man would not relent. His escalating volume was beginning to draw curious onlookers from the card room.

  “I know you not; therefore, I cannot possibly be in debt to you,” Barclay returned as he inhaled a pinch of snuff.

  “You know my wife,” Summers ground out between clenched teeth.

  Gertie saw a faint flicker of recognition in Barclay’s eyes.

  “Yes, I made her acquaintance at Vauxhall when she was with that fellow over there. Have you called him out as well?”

  Gertie looked to see a young sergeant standing near.

  “He did not attempt to seduce my wife!” fumed Summers,

  “You have no evidence I attempted any such thing.”

  “I had it all from the servants. They told me how you had suggested she spend some days at her sister’s house when her sister was conveniently absent. It was during a week when I was in Kent. I remember it well for it rained exceptionally hard for three days’ time.”

  Gertie snapped to attention. The friend that Barclay had intended to see before he came upon her and her chaise ...must have been the Major’s wife.

  “I know your reputation,” Summers continued. “I think many a husband would applaud me if I put a bullet through your head.”

  “I would not disagree with your statement.”

  “I demand satisfaction!” Summers cried, no longer able to endure being toyed with.

  “And why should I give it?” Phineas asked haughtily as he took another pinch of snuff.

  Summers looked ready to explode. “Will you be a coward then? Have you no honor?”

  “In general, none.”

  Summers took off his glove and threw it at Phineas. The glove knocked the contents of the snuff box onto Phineas and grazed his chin before falling to the floor.

  Barclay brushed the snuff off his waistcoat and calmly returned the snuff box to his pocket. “Swords or pistols?”

  “No!” Gertie gasped. She turned to the Major. “You are mistaken. Your wife is mistaken.”

  “I believe the choice to be yours,” the Major sneered, ignoring her.

  “I assure you I am equally comfortable with both,” Phineas said.

  Summers stiffened. “Pistols then. Name your seconds.”

  “Phineas!” exclaimed Robert, who had just returned.

  Gertie did not notice him or any of the others that had gathered about them. She put her hand on the Major. “You are mistaken. You do not understand.”

  “Madam, this is none of your affair!” Summers barked.

  “My brother Robert shall be one,” Phineas replied.

  Having no luck with Summers, Gertie turned to Barclay. “What are you doing?! Surely you are jesting...”

  But he did not look at her. He kept his gaze upon Summers. A shiver went through her as she glimpsed the determination in Barclay’s eyes.

  “Phineas, this is madness!” Robert cried. “Do you not remember that if you fight another duel–”

  “I remember,” Phineas said brusquely.

  “My seconds will inform yours of the time and place,” Summers said.

  Phineas bowed. “I await our assignation.”

  “No!” Gertie cried again, this time loud enough to command the attention of both men. “You will not fight this unnecessary duel.”

  She turned to Summers, her hands clenched to contain her trembling. “You are mistaken. Lord Barclay was never with your wife—because he was with me. We—”

  Phineas cut her off. “Gertie, no.”

  He turned to Summers. “She knows not what she speaks. I will meet you where and when you wish.”

  “He never had the opportunity to seduce your wife,” Gertie persisted. “We spent those three days, Lord Barclay and I, at the Four Horse Posting Inn. You may ask any who worked at the inn and they will attest to it.”

  She looked to Phineas, who was shaking his head.

  “She is a fool,” Phineas said to Summers. “She hopes to save my life by sacrificing her honor. But mine is not a life worth saving. Lady Lowry suffers delusions of grandeur.”

  “I may be a fool,” Gertie returned, “but I suffer no delusions. I would not forget those three days with you for the world.”

  Phineas closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, she thought she saw tears.

  “It is not too late to retract,” he said to her. “Remember—you have much to live for.”

  She shook her head. “Not without you.”

  Phineas turned to Summers. “She fancies herself in love with me. Surely you can see that she is not of sound mind at present.”

  But Summers had a strange look upon his face as he glanced between Barclay and Gertie.

  “Yes, I fancy myself in love with you,” Gertie stated, feeling an odd sense of freedom as she spoke. “Will you disavow you feel the same?”

  “For God’s sake, say you love her!” Robert exclaimed. “You know you do!”

  “Robert, if you speak another word, I shall kill you ’an the Major leaves me standing,” Phineas said.

  Emboldened, Gertie took a step towards him. “Will you dare deny that you love me?”

  His voice was hoarse, but he replied. “I would deny it to my death, Lady Lowry.”

  Gertie smiled as the tears rolled down her cheek. “You are ever the man that I love and more.”

  It would be hard to put into words the look in his eyes, but she knew he loved her. And for the moment, the weight of sorrow that she had carried was lifted from her. Her heart was a caged bird set free, and it soared with joy.

  “The Four Horse Inn, you say?” Summers interrupted.

  Gertie nodded. This time Phineas did not refute her.

  “It appears I was mistaken, sir,” Summers said to Barclay. He gave a curt bow. “Please accept my apologies.”

  Grumbling to himself, he stalked away with his sergeant.

  Gertie let out the breath she had been holding. Turning to Phineas, she curled her lips in a small and shaky smile. It was not until now that she realized the large crowd that had assembled around them, but she did not care that the world knew of her love for this man.

/>   But from the corner of her eye, she saw Alexander approaching.

  Chapter Nineteen

  YOU ARE EVER THE MAN that I love. The music of angels could not have been more melodious to his ears. Phineas stared at Gertie, her face bright with tears and full of love. He wanted nothing more than to crush her in his embrace and show her that his love could compare to hers. Was it possible to feel something greater than joy? He would have covered the distance between them and taken her in his arms, but a movement from the crowd stalled him.

  He watched as Alexander approached, and he readied himself for what was likely to be his second challenge of the evening, but Alexander turned to face Gertie.

  “Whore,” Alexander spat.

  He pulled his arm back and struck her. She fell to the ground.

  Phineas leaped towards Alexander but someone stepped in front of him and held him in place. He fought against the arms that held him.

  “Unhand me!” he demanded. “I will throttle that bloody coward within an inch of his life!”

  He heard his brother call his name, but his attention was pinned on Alexander. He would wring the little bastard’s neck...

  “Touch her again and I will claw your eyes out!” the Marchioness cried to Alexander as she hovered over Gertie.

  “Damn you! Unhand me!” Phineas growled as he felt himself being dragged away.

  “Lord Lowry, I cannot tolerate such displays in my house,” Mr. Bennington admonished. “I hope you will kindly take your leave.”

  Alexander, his face contorted in anger, stared absently at the host. He glared at Gertie, muttered ‘whore’ once more, and brushed passed the onlookers.

  Phineas renewed his struggles as he saw his target leaving. He himself was pulled around the corner. Robert followed.

  “You are in no state to confront him,” Lord Dunnesford said, barely able to hold off Phineas despite his strength. With all his effort, he thrust Phineas against the wall. “You would likely kill Alexander if you touched him.”