A Countess in Her Own Right

by Fanny Walsh

  Susan was watching her expectantly, and she recovered quickly.

  “I was just thinking that I should like to visit Beatrice, tomorrow perhaps. I just wanted to let you know now, since we just spoke about appointments, so that you can begin preparations in advance.” Mary smiled, hoping it would remove the distress from her face.

  Susan eyed her for a moment, then nodded.

  “Of course, milady. I will see to those preparations, as well.”

  “Thank you,” Mary said, taking a cake and nibbling on it, although she felt far from hungry.

  Susan took her leave. Once she was out of sight, Mary placed the piece of cake onto her plate and pushed it away. She sighed, a small smile forming.

  She had, indeed, been quite upset with Duncan for suggesting that her uncle’s care of her injury had been less than adequate. She could not abide by anyone speaking ill of her uncle, no matter the reason.

  However, she was also keenly aware that her uncle’s training was limited in comparison to Duncan’s, and she finally had to concede that perhaps there was some truth in Duncan’s words.

  Her uncle would not, of course, have been negligent on purpose, but that did not mean that he had all the skills necessary to properly tend to her injury.

  Of course, she would never say as much to her uncle, especially since he spoke so viciously of Duncan.

  Her smile faded. That presented a different problem. Although she had not dared let Duncan see it, what he had said about taking care of her had flattered her greatly. His handsomeness had had quite an effect on her since they first met, and his touch had held her spellbound.

  She allowed herself to think that, if Duncan should ask to court her, she might agree. However, since her uncle did detest him so, she knew it would upset him immensely. While she did fancy Duncan, she did not think that she could blatantly do something that would enrage, and hurt, her uncle so.

  Still, despite her uncle’s strong feelings, she could not help but think about Duncan. The way his green eyes sparkled when he smiled, and his unruly strawberry blond hair fell in his face as he worked.

  The feeling in his words when he made his declaration had touched her, and she briefly felt guilty for shaming him as she did with her harsh retort.

  Of course, he would not be after her for her titles. He was right when he said that he stood to gain nothing he did not already have by courting her.

  That brought a whole new level of meaning to what Duncan had said, and Mary sighed. Now, more than ever, she needed to talk to Beatrice, and she could not wait to call on her the following day.

  Chapter 10

  Duncan stared at the book lying open on his desk, but the words blurred together on the pages.

  Try as he might, he could not focus on his research. He brushed a hand across his face, cursing himself yet again for being so terribly direct and forward with Mary that day.

  He had not tried to deny his attraction to Mary, at least to himself, but he could not believe that he had actually broached the subject of marriage so soon.

  He had intended to move much more slowly and let Mary get to know and trust him before even speaking of such things.

  “Am I completely mad?” he asked his empty office. Then, realizing he was speaking to a vacant room, he chuckled.

  “Only a mad man would speak aloud to himself,” he murmured.

  He had, of course, meant every word he had said to Mary about courting her. He would love nothing more than to make an official courting offer. However, he doubted now that he would ever see her again.

  If his blunt expression of feeling was not enough, he had also insulted her uncle’s medical skill, although he could not have guessed it was he who treated her when she first broke her leg.

  His mind darkened again. It did not matter to him who treated Mary, it was still done improperly. It angered Duncan further knowing that it was someone so close to Mary who allowed her to receive such crude, incomplete treatment.

  If the man had not had the skill himself, why had he not referred or taken her to someone who did?

  Duncan felt a headache pulsing behind his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose and massaged. If he had not been so angered by the condition of her leg, perhaps he would not have been so forward with his words.

  Then, Duncan smiled. In his heart, he knew that he likely would have said something quite similar, even if he had not been speaking on impulse.

  Something about Mary stirred something in him that he did not know existed. She made it easy to speak his mind, daring and dangerous though it might sometimes be. Or, more accurately, made it difficult not to.

  He recalled the feel of her skin under his fingers, and his hands began to tingle. He could not bring himself to regret telling Mary how he felt. He could only hope that he had not overwhelmed or frightened her with his boldness.

  He decided that, since he could not concentrate on the text before him, he would write a letter to Mary, instead. He chose his words more carefully, however. He did not want to say anything to further Mary’s discomfort and scare her away for sure, if he had not already done so.

  As he was sealing Mary’s letter, his office door flew open, startling him. He jumped from his seat.

  “What is the meaning of—” he said, looking into the wide eyes of his nurse. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

  “Please, forgive me, doctor, but…” his nurse stammered, no doubt frightened at Duncan’s uncharacteristic reaction to the intrusion.

  Duncan gave her a small smile.

  “My apologies, nurse. You gave me a start. Please, continue,” he said reassuringly.

  The nurse nodded, composing herself.

  “I am sorry for disturbing you, but your cousin came in speaking nonsense. We tried to escort him outside, but he stumbled past us and passed out on one of the sick beds.”

  Duncan exhaled a sharp breath. Theodore, damn him. That was the last thing he needed just now. He took a deep breath and nodded at the nurse.

  “Thank you,” he said, struggling to keep his voice free of the anger he felt. The nurse dipped her head and left the room.

  Duncan’s heart fell into his stomach. There was only one reason he could think of that Theodore would come stumbling into his office. He must be completely drunk. And the only time Theodore ever got pass-out, black-out drunk was when he had been on another gambling binge and lost every penny his father had given him.

  Which, of course, could only mean that he was there for one purpose, which was to ask Duncan for more money.

  Duncan took a few deep breaths to cool his boiling blood. Then, he strode out of his office and down the hallway to the room Theodore was occupying.

  He stared at his cousin for a moment, debating on whether he should let him sleep it off before attempting a rational discussion with him. Eventually, he decided against it.

  He grabbed a basin of water from the bedside table and splashed it in Theodore’s face. Theodore sat up groggily, rubbing his face and looking around in confusion. His eyes settled on Duncan and he squinted, no doubt seeing two of him.

  Duncan crossed his arms and looked sternly at his cousin.

  “’llo, Duncan,” Theodore slurred. Duncan resisted the urge to shake the drunken man.

  “How much did you lose?” Duncan asked, in too foul of a mood to feign pleasantries or ignorance as to the reason for this dreaded visit.

  “What makes you think—” Theodore tried to stand but immediately fell back onto the bed. For a moment, Duncan thought he was going to vomit, but he only belched. Duncan winced in disgust.

  “How much, Theodore?” Duncan repeated.

  Theodore hung his head. Duncan wanted to believe it was in shame, but he suspected it was more just because he was too drunk to hold it up on his own.

  “A great deal,” he said at last.

  Duncan frowned, and again wrestled the urge to throttle some sense into his cousin.

  “Exactly how much is a ‘great deal’?”
>
  Theodore grew still and silent, and for a moment, Duncan thought he had passed out again. Then, Theodore cleared his throat.

  “Two thousand,” he mumbled.

  Duncan’s eyes widened.

  “Two thou—” the words caught in Duncan’s throat. How had he managed to convince his father to give him that much all at once? How could his father have afforded it?

  “I swear, Duncan, I really believed I could win that game. I had a very favorable hand.”

  Duncan pressed his fingers to his forehead, battling his own bout of dizziness. Theodore was certainly no stranger to losing money by gambling, but two thousand was, indeed, a great deal of money, even for him.

  “You always have a ‘favorable hand,’ Theo,” he said softly. As angry as he was, he could not help feeling bad for his cousin. He supposed it was not Theodore’s fault that he was not born with more sense than money.

  “No, this time was different,” Theodore said. “I was one card away from winning the whole pot this time. Everyone else had actually begun to sweat. I had it made with this one, Duncan, really, I did! But, before I knew what had happened, Kent Hillington had won.”

  “How did you manage to get so much money all at once?” Duncan asked, struggling to keep his voice even and low.

  “I told my father that I needed it for a business venture,” Theodore said.

  Duncan believed that the act of saying aloud what he had done and how much money he had lost was having a sobering effect. His eyes appeared sharper, and Duncan saw the first hints of worry and embarrassment on his cousin’s face.

  “Please, Duncan. I have no one else to whom I can turn for assistance. And my father cannot find out about this.”

  Duncan chuckled bitterly.

  “You should consider yourself lucky if no one who witnessed the game runs straight to your father to tell him the happy news.”

  Theodore’s eyes grew wide with fear.

  “You do not think someone would, do you?”

  Duncan wanted to tell him that he sometimes hoped someone would, but he refrained.

  “I am sure that you are not the only one to lose his hide in that game, so it is likely that no one wants to speak of it, ever,” Duncan said, hoping he was right.

  Theodore did not look relieved. Duncan tried to smile at his cousin.

  “Do not worry. I will help you cover up this little… incident. And, I will get the money you need by the end of the month.”

  Theodore looked at Duncan, his eyes shining.

  “Oh, thank you, cousin. Thank you so much.”

  “If you truly wish to thank me, do not get yourself involved in any more of these games until I marry and inherit my father’s title. Only then will I have direct access to the fortune. I cannot keep saving you on my doctor’s salary.”

  “You have my word, Duncan,” Theodore said, shaking Duncan’s hand. “And I apologize for once again burdening you with another of my… problems.”

  “As I said, if you wish to prove your sincerity, keep your money in your pockets for the time being.” Duncan’s face softened. His anger had dissolved, and now he felt only pity for his cousin.

  “Come,” Duncan said. “Let us get you some coffee.”

  Duncan sent his staff home and closed the office. Then, he called for a carriage, and he and Theodore departed for Duncan’s home.

  The carriage ride was a short but silent one. Theodore passed out again almost immediately, and Duncan tried to think of ways he could come up with so much money by the end of the month.

  He had patients booked solid for the next couple of weeks, but he knew that this alone would not bring in anywhere near the two thousand his cousin needed. He wished he could ask his father, but he doubted there was anything he could say that the Earl would not scrutinize and dissect.

  And he certainly could not tell him the truth about why he needed the money. Perhaps, if it came to it, he could talk to Julius. Not about why he needed the money, certainly. But, with luck, Julius would not ask too many questions, and give him a few ideas as to how he might acquire the money.

  The carriage coming to a stop in front of Duncan’s home roused Theodore. And not a moment too soon; as soon as Theodore stumbled out of the coach, he vomited on the ground, narrowly missing his shoes.

  Duncan sighed, realizing that he could not send Theodore home in this condition. When he was certain that his cousin was finished, Duncan draped the drunk man’s arm around his shoulder and helped him inside.

  Duncan shivered as he walked in the door. He had spent so much time at his office lately, his own home often felt foreign to him. He called to his butler, who seemed to materialize before Duncan finished calling.

  “Would you please tell the staff to prepare a room for my cousin for the night?” he asked.

  His butler looked at Theodore warily, but nodded in obedience.

  “Right away, my lord,” he said. “Should I have tea brought to your study?”

  “Coffee, please,” Duncan said.

  The butler bowed and vanished. Duncan helped Theodore to the study to await the coffee and for his room to be ready. He hoped this would be the last time he would need to save his cousin.

  But right then, his biggest hope was that Theodore did not empty the contents of his stomach all over the furniture.

  Chapter 11

  Mary returned home from calling on Beatrice to find a letter waiting on her desk.

  She saw that it was from Duncan, and her heart pounded. She quickly opened the letter, anxious about the letter’s contents.

  To her delight, Duncan had invited her to join him for a ride through the park. Nervous excitement filled her, and she decided at once to accept the invitation.

  She hesitated as she began writing her response letter. She thought of her uncle and how furious he would be if she told him about her outing with Duncan.

  Then, I simply will not tell him, she thought, and continued the letter she was writing, accepting Duncan’s invitation.

  On the day of her outing with Duncan, Mary’s nerves were reverberating. She tried to calm herself, but her heart raced, and her thoughts ran wild.

  “Milady,” Susan said, holding up an olive-green dress bordered with a darker green satin. “Lord Tornight’s carriage will arrive at any moment.”

  Mary looked at the clock and gasped. Flustered, she nodded at the dress Susan was holding. Susan helped her dress carefully and tied her matching green bonnet under her chin. Then, the two women descended the stairs.

  As they reached the bottom step, there was a knock at the door. Mary let out a tiny gasp. Johnson answered the door before the third knock could resound.

  Duncan stood on the other side, looking as handsome as ever in his green silk shirt and matching boots, dark green pantaloons, and black tailcoat. He removed his black top hat and bowed deeply.

  “Good morning, ladies,” he said, flashing his charming smile. “I hope I am not too early.”

  “Not at all, Lord Tornight,” Mary said, catching his infectious smile.

  “Shall we?” he asked, offering his arm to Mary.

  “Of course, my lord.”

  Duncan escorted Mary to his waiting carriage. Susan boarded the carriage Mary’s staff had prepared for her to ride in, so she could chaperone Mary and Duncan from a proper distance.

  Mary feared an awkward, uncomfortably quiet ride. Fortunately, Duncan seemed to be in high spirits and happy to fill the silent air.

  “How have you been keeping, Lady Linden?”

  “Quite well, thank you. And you, my lord?”

  Duncan laughed, and Mary noticed for the first time how musical it sounded, like a bass-tuned symphony instrument.

  “Very well, my lady. What I meant, however, was your leg.”

  Mary blushed. Of course, that is what he meant.

  “Oh. Well,” she hesitated. She did not want to mention the trouble it had been giving her.

  Unfortunately, she hesitated a moment too long.
>
  “Does it hurt now?” Duncan asked, seeming to read her thoughts.

  “Not just now,” she said hurriedly.

  “Has it been hurting more than normal?”

  She sighed.

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “Hmm.” Duncan said, falling silent for a moment.

  Mary tried to read his face, wondering what he was thinking. She hoped he was not thinking more ill thoughts about the care her uncle had given her injury. Her temper began to flare at the recollection of his cruel words about her uncle’s skill.