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The Countess

The Countess (Madison Sisters #1)(16)
Author: Lynsay Sands

More than a little fascinated, then, Richard thought with amusement, and asked,

"Why should I not offer to pay them off? It would remove the pressure the women are under."

"Suzette is not enthral ed with the idea of marrying after al she’s learned about Christiana’s experiences this last year. She may very wel bury herself in the countryside and eschew marriage altogether should she learn it isn’t a necessity, and I can hardly get to know her better if she is at Madison Manor and I am at Woodrow."

"Ah," Richard murmured, understanding more than his friend was tel ing.

Whether he knew it or not, Daniel had already decided to marry the girl. At least that was his opinion, "Fine, I shal refrain from offering to pay . . . for now."

Daniel relaxed at once. "Thank you."

Richard waved his gratitude away and changed the subject. "The good news is that since I’ve decided to uphold the marriage to Christiana, we can simply dispose of you know who. I was considering our options on the way here – "

"That might not be the best idea," Daniel interrupted quietly. When Richard raised an eyebrow in question, he added, "I think perhaps it would be best not to dispose of him at al yet. At least not until we sort out this business of who kil ed him."

Richard sat back with a frown. "Why? It is not as if he can be a witness in his own murder."

"No, but we cannot prove murder without a body," Daniel pointed out and then added, "Whoever poisoned him wil soon think they failed, if they don’t already. They wil try again."

"Then I shal have to be careful," Richard said grimly. "But I see no need to keep you know who around until we catch his kil er. We can charge whoever it is with attempted murder when they try to kil me."

Daniel frowned. "It just seems to me to be smarter to keep you know who around until we have it al sorted out."

"Very wel ," Richard said final y. "Have you hidden him somewhere safe?"

"Er . . . wel , actual y no," he admitted, looking uncomfortable. "I placed him in the pavilion in the back garden for the night."

"In the . . . ?"

"It was the only place I could think of. I needed somewhere cold but covered, and that was al I could come up with at the time. But he shal have to be moved before too much longer."

"Yes, he definitely needs to be moved," Richard agreed grimly.

"I had an idea about that too."

"Do tel ," Richard requested dryly.

Daniel ignored his sarcasm. "I thought it might be best to put him back in the master bedroom."

"What? You – "

"Now hear me out before you protest," Daniel insisted, and then explained, "The girls have already seen that ‘Dicky’ is gone and so believe you are you

. . . which of course you are. They also know the bed is now in ruins thanks to the ice they packed around who they thought was you. So, we dump him back in the bed, you keep the windows open to cool the room, and then lock off the doors and keep the keys. Then you say you have ordered a bed to replace the ruined one and that no one should bother entering the room until it arrives and the chamber can be set to rights." He sat back with satisfaction before adding, "That way he is close at hand if we need him for proof of anything, and yet out of the way of being found."

"I suppose that could work," Richard said thoughtful y.

"It wil ," Daniel assured him. "The only real problem I see is getting him out of here and back to your townhouse in broad daylight." When Richard raised his head at the suggestion, he said, "He has to be moved soon. One of the servants might decide to take a turn around the gardens and stumble upon him before the day is out."

"Damn." They had to move the body and quickly, but the question was how did one move a body about in broad daylight without anyone knowing it was a body? He lowered his head to consider the problem, his eyes staring blindly at his own feet briefly before they focused on the patterned rug under them. Smiling, he raised his head. "You don’t happen to have an old rug you don’t mind getting rid of?"

The sound of the door opening and closing stirred Christiana from sleep and she rol ed over in bed to peer toward it, coming more awake when she saw Grace crossing the room toward her.

"Lord Langley is here and asking to see you," the maid said solemnly.

Christiana stiffened where she lay and then cast a quick glance to the other side of the bed to see that Richard was no longer there.

"He left nearly an hour ago," Grace announced as she gathered a fresh gown for her to wear.

"Oh," Christiana murmured, immediately assaulted by a variety of emotions. Not one of them good. Dawn was casting a harsh light on the situation at hand and forcing her to acknowledge that she had consummated the wedding with her husband, who may or may not be her husband, because she stil was not sure if it was actual y a birthmark on his behind that she’d glimpsed. Bril iant.

Worse than al of that, though, was that while she was now sober, lying alone in her bed with Grace there looking so grim, and the light of day shining through the windows and spotlighting her in her shame, had she woken natural y and alone with Richard, Christiana knew she might very wel have merely rol ed over, cuddled up close and begun to kiss and caress him awake to initiate another round of the consummation. It was how he’d woken her several times in the night and her body wanted it again even now. Just the thought of it was making her br**sts tighten with desire. What they’d done had been that delicious, the excitement and pleasure he had shown her that addictive.

"Should I tel Langley you are unavailable?" Grace asked, setting a basin of water on the smal table beside the bed. Langley. Christiana grimaced, her shame increasing at the thought of talking to Robert. Here he had been trying to get her out of her miserable marriage and she had ensured that there was no way that she could. Dear God, she wished she’d never . . . wel , she wasn’t sure what she wished. Having tasted such pleasure, it was hard to wish she hadn’t. God, her body ached in places she hadn’t known it could, but she’d never felt so physical y replete.

Christiana supposed the truth was she wished this was the first morning after her wedding and that the last year hadn’t taken place, that she stil had a chance of happiness, of enjoying the pleasure she’d experienced last night again and again and sharing a life ful of laughter and joy with Richard

. . . who would have to be Richard for certain, of course.

"I shal tel him you are stil asleep," Grace decided for her and turned toward the door, but Christiana forced herself to sit up.

"No," she said on a sigh as she pushed the blankets away. There was no sense putting off this meeting. She may as wel get the unpleasantness over with and out of the way and see what could be salvaged from it.

"Are you sure? I could – "

The way Grace’s words died so abruptly as Christiana rose from the bed, made her glance toward her curiously. The maid was staring at the bed and the smal splotches of blood that had been revealed when she’d pushed the bed covers aside to get up. The evidence of what had taken place last night, Christiana realized with a grimace and felt herself blush when Grace’s sharp eyes turned her way.

"I knew he’d slept in here, his bed was ruined by the ice, but – " She paused, anger fil ing her face. "He took advantage of your inebriated state?"

Christiana grimaced and turned away, aware that she was blushing. Having no idea what to say, she moved to the basin of water and simply murmured,

"He is my husband."

Grace snorted angrily and began to strip the bed. "This blood proves he has been less than a husband this last year. I suspected he had not visited your bed since the wedding, but I thought that night, at least, he’d done his duty. The devil!"

she added with disgust. "Why could he not stay dead?"

Christiana bit her lip as she picked up the clean bit of linen, dipped it in the perfumed water and began to wash herself. She’d wondered the same thing many times last night. Wel , at least she had before Richard had kissed her. She suspected she would have protested vociferously at his dying in the middle of their exploits, but she was certainly now thinking it would have made things much simpler.

"And look what he did to you!" Grace said with dismay, leaving the bed for now and hurrying to her side. Christiana glanced around with confusion at that cry and then fol owed Grace’s gaze over her body, her own eyebrows rose slightly as she saw that her body bore several dark red marks and even a faint bruise or two. She didn’t recal how she’d got them and certainly hadn’t felt any pain at the time. While Richard had been cruel and cold this last year, she didn’t think he’d marked her deliberately last night, but the activities had got very vigorous at times and she knew she’d scored his back more than once during their more passionate moments.

" ‘Tis al right." Christiana turned back to her washing. "They do not hurt."

Grace was silent for a moment and Christiana could almost hear the rant the maid wanted to let loose. Much to her relief, however, she didn’t but returned to the bed, taking out her anger by almost ripping the bedsheets from it, no doubt imagining it was Richard and she was ripping his flesh off. Grace had been her mother’s lady’s maid before her and had become Christiana’s on her mother’s death. She had watched her grow up and had a great deal of affection for her, an affection that was returned. She also had something of a temper. Both women were silent as Grace helped her dress. Confused and miserable herself, Christiana did nothing to end it, but was grateful to escape the room once she was dressed and ready. She wasn’t exactly eager to have the conversation she knew was coming with Langley, however, so didn’t rush downstairs. Unfortunately, despite dragging her feet, she did eventual y arrive at the parlor, where Langley paced the floor as he waited. He stopped the moment she entered the room though and his first word was, "Wel ?"

Christiana felt her lips twitch into a grimace, and then turned back and closed the parlor door. It wasn’t quite the done thing for a married woman to be in a room alone with a man who wasn’t her husband and have the door closed. But it did seem smarter than leaving it open so that anyone passing might hear their conversation.

Turning back to the room, she moved to sit primly in a chair and then just sat there, not sure what to say or how to start.

"Wel ?" Langley repeated, sitting on the corner of the couch. "Does he have the birthmark?"

Christiana felt her lips twist and lowered her head. After al that had happened last night she should be able to say yes or no, however she just wasn’t sure. She wished she’d taken a closer look, or thought to try again later, but once passion had overcome her the last thing she’d cared about was getting a look at his bottom.

Squeezing it with her hands to urge him on, and digging her heels into it as he drove his body into hers, yes, but look at it? It just hadn’t been high on her list of priorities as he’d kissed and caressed, kneaded and touched, buried his face between her legs and drove her to, and then over the edge of madness before plunging his body into hers and driving her there again, and again, and –

"Christiana? Are you al right?" Langley asked with concern. "You are suddenly quite flushed."

Torn from her increasingly feverish recol ections, she blinked and then glanced around and waved her hand in front of her face, asking, "Is it hot in here?

I feel over warm."

"Er . . . I do not think so. It seems fine to me," Langley assured her and then asked a touch impatiently, "Did you get the chance to see if he has the birthmark?"

Christiana opened her mouth to say no, but then stopped, because that would be a lie. The truth was, of course, that she had had the chance, she’d just been too preoccupied with other things to take it. Final y, she said, "I am not sure if he has the strawberry or not."

Langley sat back with a sigh of disappointment, but then just as quickly sat forward again. "Wel , we shal just have to think of another way to find out. I was worried sick last night about the three of you here in this house with him. I’l take you, Lisa and Suzie away today. You can stay at your father’s townhouse while I arrange for an exam and an annulment."

"Er . . ." Christiana cleared her throat and then murmured, "I don’t think there can be an annulment."

"Of course there can. The marriage hasn’t been consummated."

"Wel . . . yes, wel , that’s the thing," she muttered, "Last night I was trying to see the strawberry and – Wel , I was trying to see it – I fear the alcohol had something of an effect on me, I – he – we definitely hadn’t consummated it on the wedding night,"

she ended lamely.

"What are you trying to say, Christiana?" Langley asked slowly, looking like he already knew what she was saying but didn’t want to believe it.

"We consummated last night," she blurted final y.

"Dear God," he groaned, closing his eyes, and then immediately opened them again and asked, "How could you?"

"Rather easily as it turned out," she muttered, and felt herself blushing.

Langley rubbed his forehead as if it were suddenly aching, and then sighed and sat up. "Okay. We shal have to force him into divorce then. We wil pretend to be lovers, and flaunt the supposed relationship openly until he has no choice but to demand a divorce. There wil be more of a scandal, but at least you wil be safe. I – "

"Safe?" she interrupted sharply.

He frowned. "Wel , surely you realize that if it is George, then it’s possible Richard’s death may not have been an accident."

Actual y, she hadn’t realized that, Christiana thought faintly. It simply hadn’t occurred to her that George could envy Richard so much he might kil him to take his place. She’d just assumed that Robert was worried that George had taken advantage of what was an accident.

"Chrissy?"

"Just a minute, I must think," Christiana muttered.

Langley paused and waited, his expression questioning and she bowed her head, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. She was taken aback somewhat by his suggestion. It put a whole new slant on things. At least, it did for a moment, but as her mind raced over the events from the night before, her thoughts began to clear a little. While she might have believed the man she’d lived with this last year capable of such a thing, she just found it impossible to believe that the man who had been so considerate and kind at the bal , and then such a patient and giving lover last night, could have kil ed his own brother out of envy.

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