The Countess (Madison Sisters #1)(30)
Author: Lynsay Sands

"Taste in women," Richard answered promptly.

"Ah." Daniel grinned. "I’l take that to mean you are not displeased to have Christiana for a wife."

"If Suzette is half the woman Christiana is, we can both count ourselves lucky men," Richard assured him.

"Hmm. Suzette mentioned that Christiana had fol owed you upstairs, and I did notice a certain spring in your step when you found me in the parlor some time later . I wonder what could have happened to cause that?"

"You can keep wondering," Richard said dryly and led the way into the tailor’s.

As he’d hoped, his time with the tailor was short. The man was swift and efficient, taking Richard’s measurements and his order with a speed that spoke of the years of experience he had. Much to Richard’s relief, the man assured him he could have several of the items to him by week’s end. He also did have a couple of cutaway coats, a pair of trousers and a pair of breeches available right away. One of the coats was a perfect fit and could be taken at once, the other items needed a bit of tailoring, but the man promised to fix them up right away and send al four items along to the townhouse by the day’s end.

"Wel that went wel too," Daniel commented as they stepped out of the tailor’s and started up the walk in the direction of the Radnor carriage. "Perhaps we shal be lucky and arrive back at the townhouse to find that everyone has had such a successful day, and the identities of the blackmailer and poisoner have been discovered so that we need only round them up."

"We should be so lucky," Richard said wryly.

"Was it not you who said just as we entered the tailor’s that we were both lucky men?" Daniel asked cheerful y. Richard glanced around at Daniel’s words and opened his mouth to respond, but froze as he spotted the carriage careening toward them. The first shout of warning went up then, but Richard was already grabbing Daniel’s arm and throwing himself to the side, out of the way of the oncoming vehicle. They crashed to the ground amid a cacophony of screams and shouts as the people around them noted the danger and tried to get out of the way, and then there was a moment when the only sound Richard could hear was that of the horses’

hooves and the trundle of the carriage’s wheels as it raced past, the breeze of its passing tel ing how close they’d come to being trampled.

"Are you al right, my lord?"

Richard glanced around at that alarmed question and sighed when he spotted his driver just reaching and kneeling beside him. Nodding, he rol ed onto his back to sit up, and then glanced toward Daniel, who was as of yet unmoving.

"Woodrow?" he asked with a frown.

Daniel groaned and pushed himself to a sitting position, but said, "Yes. Thanks to you."

"It was a yel ow bounder, my lord," the Radnor driver said grimly, glaring in the direction the post chaise had gone. "Probably rented. The postil ion didn’t even try to steer clear of ye. In fact, it looked almost like he was aiming for the two of ye."

Richard grunted at the man’s words, suspecting he was right. George had been murdered after al and they had expected the murderer to try again. He definitely had to be more careful in future.

Richard got to his feet even as Daniel did and then paused to brush down his clothes, frowning when something dripped down the side of his forehead.

"You’re bleeding," Daniel said quietly. "You must have knocked your head as we fel ."

Richard raised a hand to his forehead, grimacing when he felt the scrape there.

Sighing, he wiped the blood away and started toward the carriage.

Daniel and the driver fol owed.

"Where to now, my lord?" the driver asked solemnly as he held the carriage door for Richard and Daniel to get in.

"Home," Richard answered abruptly as he settled back in his seat.

Nodding, the man closed the door.

"What are we going to do now?" Daniel asked as he settled across from him.

"Find out who wants the Earl of Radnor dead, and fast. I should like to accomplish it before Christiana is made a widow . . . again."

"This is a waste of time," Suzette hissed with frustration as Christiana led her from the guest bedroom Robert and Daniel had shared the night before. They had gone there to have a little chat with the upstairs maid who had been making the bed and cleaning the room. The problem was that was al it had been, a chat, Christiana acknowledged. They could hardly ask flat out if she had been paid to poison George’s whiskey. They didn’t want everyone on staff to know about George’s attempt to kil Richard, his stint as his imposter and that George was now dead . . . again. That being the case, they couldn’t ask much of anything useful real y, and instead had been forced to ask each person general questions about how long they’d worked for Lord Fairgrave and where they’d worked previously, what their family situation was like and so on.

"It isn’t a complete waste of time," she assured Suzette. "I am pretty sure we can cross most of the staff we’ve talked to off the list of suspects, and that is a good thing."

Suzette sighed with exasperation. "Why am I not surprised you are looking at the bright side?"

Christiana glanced at her in question. "What do you mean?"

"You have been Miss Bloody-Cheerful-and-Optimistic ever since talking to Richard upstairs before the men left," she said with disgust.

"And you have been Miss Glum-and-Pessimistic just as long," Christiana said wryly. Suzette had been surly and cross throughout the interviews.

"Aye, wel I suspect that would be because I didn’t find the same satisfaction you obviously did before Richard came into the parlor and interrupted us."

Christiana paused and whirled to gape at her. "By satisfaction you do not mean .

. . ?"

Suzette rol ed her eyes and urged her to keep moving toward the stairs. "Of course I do. Anyone could tel what the two of you had been up to. If the banging from upstairs hadn’t given it away, then your wrinkled skirts, the smile on Richard’s face, and your utterly replete relaxation and good cheer since would have."

Christiana felt herself color with embarrassment and glanced anxiously down at her skirt, self-consciously brushing at the wrinkles she hadn’t noticed until now as they started down the steps.

"What was the banging by the way?" Suzette asked. "If it was your bed, you should have the servants shift it away from the wal , else no one wil sleep tonight."

Christiana stiffened at the taunt, but rather than answer, narrowed her eyes on Suzette and asked, "What do you mean by the satisfaction you didn’t find before Richard interrupted you?"

"Exactly what you think I mean," she assured her. However, despite Suzette’s attempt to sound blase about it, a pink flush stole up her cheeks. Christiana gaped at her. "But you are – "

"An unmarried woman, pure and innocent and completely ignorant of what a man and woman do behind closed doors," Suzette said dryly, urging her to continue down the stairs. "Heavens, Christiana, this is the nineteenth century. Women need not go to the marriage bed completely ignorant."

"I did," she muttered, half embarrassed and half annoyed.

"You never read any of those books Lisa constantly has her nose in."

"And you did?" Christiana glanced at her with amazement as they stepped off the stairs and started along the hal . Suzette had never been much of a reader.

Suzette shrugged. "It gets a bit boring in the country now that you are not there.

Lisa is always reading, and Robert has been in town the last year, while trying to discover what was going on with your marriage. There were days when I think I would have gone mad without something to read."

"But surely those horrid novels Lisa reads do not – "

"Nay, not most of them, but – " Suzette paused to glance around and then ushered her into the nearest room, Richard’s office. She closed the door and urged Christiana over to the chairs by the fire before admitting, "Lisa received one recently that was about a young girl named Fanny who runs away to London and becomes a prostitute and it was . . . er . . . quite informative."

"And you and Lisa read this?" she cried with dismay. When Suzette reddened but nodded, she asked, "Does Father know?"

Suzette snorted. "No, of course not. He hasn’t known much of anything ever since the first gambling incident. He has mostly stayed locked in his office, hiding from his shame since you left with Dicky the day after the wedding." She scowled briefly, but then glanced to Christiana and pleaded, "Don’t say anything to him. And don’t say anything to Lisa either. ‘Tis a banned book, and she made me swear not to tel anyone about it."

"If ’tis banned, how did she get it?" Christiana asked grimly.

"I am not sure," Suzette admitted. "She won’t tel me. But I think she got it from Mrs. Morgan."

Christiana didn’t recognize the name. "Who is Mrs. Morgan?"

"A widow whose carriage broke down by the estate on her way to London,"

Suzette explained. "Father invited her in for tea while the men looked at it for her. Of course, then he left us to entertain her," she added bitterly.

"And this Mrs. Morgan gave Lisa the book then?" Christiana asked.

Suzette shook her head. "Her carriage was beyond the men’s ability to repair and had to be taken into the vil age. Mrs. Morgan stayed at the inn for nearly a week while it was repaired and Lisa visited her there every day. They became quite friendly and I guess before she left for London, Mrs. Morgan gave her the book as a thank-you gift for keeping her company."

"Dear God," Christiana growled. "What kind of woman gives a banned book like that to an unmarried girl?"

"Mrs. Morgan is very forward thinking," Suzette said with a shrug. "She believes women should have more rights and freedoms of our own rather than be ruled by our fathers and husbands. Besides, Lisa is nearly twenty, Christiana. She is not a child anymore, and should already have had her debut and be settled with a husband and starting on children."

Christiana didn’t argue the point. Their father had been lax in seeing to their future. But then she and her sisters hadn’t been pushing to have their debuts. They’d al simply been content as they were, each uneager to leave their childhood home and loved ones for an unknown husband. Although, Christiana had been contemplating doing so more and more the last year before marrying Dicky. She had begun to think she wanted children, which meant a London season to choose a husband, and she probably would have soon broached the subject with her father had the supposed ruination at the gambling table not forced the marriage to Dicky.

That thought made her recal what Richard had said about the gaming hel and the rumors about what went on there and she asked, "Father has been punishing himself for what happened and my having to marry Dicky?"

"Yes, and so he should," Suzette said grimly. "I was actual y feeling sorry for him, but then he went and did it again."

"That may not be true," Christiana said quietly. "He may not have gambled at al ."

"What?" Suzette glanced at her sharply.

"Richard said there are rumors that Dicky had befriended a certain owner of a gaming hel reputed to drug its patrons and fleece them. He suspects it’s possible that is what happened to Father."

Suzette’s breath left her on a whoosh, making Christiana’s eyebrows raise.

Before she could ask what had caused it, Suzette said, "When we found him at the townhouse, Father kept saying he was sorry, and he didn’t know how it had happened, that his memories were a jumble and he didn’t even recal how he’d ended up at the gaming hel , just waking up there both times to learn he’d gambled us into ruin."

Christiana sighed. "He probably didn’t gamble at al ."

"Oh God," Suzette moaned and dropped back against the chair unhappily. "I was so cruel to him the morning we arrived in London. I said some awful things."

"It is understandable under the circumstances," Christiana said quietly. "How were you to know Dicky may have drugged him to bring about his downfal ?"

"Damn Dicky," Suzette burst out furiously, sitting upright again. "If he weren’t already dead, I think I’d kil him myself."

"Hmm," Christiana murmured, and then bit her lip and pointed out, "Although, if it weren’t for Dicky and what he’d got up to I wouldn’t now be married to Richard and you might never have met and proposed to Daniel."

"That’s true." Suzette frowned, some of her anger easing from her expression, and then she glanced to Christiana and asked, "So you are content with Richard?"

"I think we might have a good marriage," she said cautiously, and much to her surprise Suzette snorted at the tame words.

"Oh, give over," she said with disgust. "A good marriage? I’ve heard the moaning and groaning coming from your room, both the night Dicky died and last night as wel

. Oh Richard, oh . . . oh . . . yes . . . ooooooh," she mimicked with amusement.

"Then you scream like you’re fit to die."

Christiana blushed furiously. "You could hear us?"

"I’m sure the whole house can hear you," she said dryly. "He roars like a lion, and you squeal like a stuck pig." She paused and then added thoughtful y,

"Which I suppose is an apt description from what I read in Fanny’s book. Did it hurt very much the first time he stuck his maypole in your tender parts?"

"His maypole?" Christiana gasped with disbelief.

"That’s what Fanny cal ed it. Wel one of the things," she added thoughtful y, and then repeated, "Did it hurt?"

Christiana groaned and covered her face, mortified by the entire conversation.

"Wel ?" Suzette persisted.

"A little perhaps," Christiana said final y, forcing her hands away and straightening in her seat.

"Hmm, Fanny fainted from the pain," Suzette muttered. "And there was a great deal of blood, which suggests pain as wel ."