The Countess (Madison Sisters #1)(4)
Author: Lynsay Sands

"Freddy is sick?" Christiana asked with surprise. That was a spot of good luck for them. It solved the problem of keeping the valet away from Dicky.

"Deathly il . I shouldn’t be surprised if he is unavailable for days," the butler said solemnly, and then added, "I, of course, wil make myself available to Lord Radnor to fil in for Freddy in the meantime."

"Oh no," Christiana said at once. "I mean, il as he is, my husband is not likely to need assistance dressing. He’l no doubt rest abed until he is recovered. I’m sure he won’t need you."

"Hmmm." Haversham nodded. "Then I shal arrange for someone to go purchase a chicken and leave you ladies to your endeavors."

"Yes, you do that," Christiana said with relief. She waited until he disappeared through the door to the kitchen, and then muttered, "Let’s go," and immediately started forward again.

"Thank God," Suzette gasped as Christiana headed for the stairs at a hurried pace. "I thought he’d never leave. And real y, Chrissy, you cannot lie at al ."

Christiana grimaced but could hardly argue the fact, so merely picked up the pace as much as she could, eager to unburden herself of her dead husband. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, they were also sweaty and exhausted, but continued forward without resting. They had reached the door to Dicky’s room and Christiana had just jutted out her hip and released one handhold on the rug to open the door when the next door down opened. Christiana immediately glanced around with alarm. Unfortunately, the slight movement was enough to dislodge the bundle from her hip. She felt it slip off and drop toward the floor, but this time wasn’t quick enough to stop it. Worse yet, Suzette and Lisa were taken by surprise and lost their own holds on the rug. The whole length of it thudded to the floor and then unrol ed, spil ing a very dead Dicky at the feet of Christiana’s maid as the woman paused in the hal .

Al four women stared down at the man and then Grace lifted her eyes to Christiana and murmured, "Final y kil ed him, did you? It’s about bloody time."

Chapter Three

I must say, Lady Radnor, while Suzette has your father’s dark hair, al three of you have your mother’s features. She would be proud at how lovely you al turned out."

"Thank you, Lady Olivett," Christiana said, a smile tugging her mouth wide and bringing on a smal ache that merely made her beam. The ache was because she’d smiled so much this evening, something she hadn’t done much of this last year. She was enjoying the ache as a sign that things had changed for the better, and oh how they’d changed. She hadn’t enjoyed herself so much since . . . wel , since she’d married. Christiana had spent the last hour since arriving at the Landon bal enjoying her newfound freedom and chattering away with the other married women. She was doing her duty and gaining gossip about Suzette’s dance partners as expected, but that stil left plenty of time to just converse and laugh and enjoy herself.

It was lovely, and she vowed never to al ow herself to be so control ed and beaten down by anyone ever again. Truly, she could hardly believe she had al owed Dicky to do so in the first place and supposed it was only because no one had ever treated her like that before, and she had never been without the support and love of her family prior to that either. The combination had worked against her, leaving her feeling alone and frightened. But that was before, now she was a widow, had her sisters back, and intended to enjoy every minute of it.

"The music is coming to an end. Who is Suzette’s next dance partner?" Lady Olivett asked curiously.

"Danvers, I think," Christiana answered, smiling at the woman. Lady Olivett had been a dear friend of her mother’s while she lived and had immediately taken Christiana and her sisters under her wing when they arrived, which was very generous of her considering how shabbily Dicky had treated her, turning her away when she’d tried to visit Christiana and welcome her to London.

"Yes, I think you’re right. There he is approaching her and Wil throp," Lady Olivett commented. As Christiana turned to glance toward her sister, the lady continued, "Danvers isn’t a much better prospect than Wil throp, but at least he is young and good-looking. Stil , caution her not to get too interested in him. He is in financial difficulties and a bit of a bounder to boot."

"I wil ," Christiana assured her, turning her gaze to search the other side of the dance floor where Lisa was ensconced amongst a giggling gaggle of single young ladies. Danvers was one of the names Lisa had been supposed to find information on. They had split the names on Suzette’s dance card in half, Christiana and Lisa each taking every other one, in the hopes of making it less obvious they were seeking information on the men. Now, she was curious to see which prearranged signals Lisa would give Suzette. However, her gaze never found her youngest sister. Instead, it halted abruptly on a man just entering the bal room. After a year of marriage, she’d recognize the man anywhere. Dicky . . . alive and wel , and looking very, very angry.

"Lord Radnor! Your wife said you were ailing and wouldn’t be able to come tonight, but you’ve made it after al ."

Richard Fairgrave, the Earl of Radnor, paused and turned, relaxing a little when he recognized his host, Lord Landon, approaching. But then the man’s words sank in.

"My wife?" he asked, his gaze sliding in question to his best friend and the man who’d saved his life and brought him here, Daniel, the Earl of Woodrow. Daniel merely shrugged helplessly.

"Yes," Landon said cheerful y and glanced around. "She’s here somewhere.

Lady Radnor and her sisters were among the first to arrive. There she is,"

he said with triumph, pointing toward a smal group of women gathered at the end of the bal room. Richard peered to where a petite blonde stood in a circle of several much older women. The older women were al chattering away while the woman who was apparently his wife listened, or didn’t listen. He couldn’t tel . Her eyes were locked on him with something like horror. He felt his eyebrows rise, but looked her over slowly, noting that she was overly thin, pale to the point of sickly, and not particularly pretty.

"As I say," Landon continued, turning back to face him, "she told us you had taken to your bed with a malaise and wouldn’t be attending tonight. You look fine to me, though. Stil , she does appear to be surprised to see you."

"I’m sure she is," Richard said quietly.

The jovial smile on the man’s face faded briefly and he said in more solemn tones, "I’m glad to see you here. You’ve kept too much to yourself since your brother’s death. It’s good to see you rejoining society. You were missed."

"Thank you," Richard murmured, oddly touched by the sentiment.

Nodding, Landon thumped him on the back in a manly manner, and then cleared his throat and glanced around. "Wel , I suppose I should see to the rest of my guests. Go assure your wife you’re wel . She must have thought you at death’s door to be so shocked now," Landon said with a laugh. "I fear you must have overplayed it a bit, boy. Next time you want to slip out to see your mistress, just give a sniffle or two and a cough. There’s no need to act like you have the plague." Laughing, Landon slapped him on the back again and then turned to disappear into the crowd.

"I had no idea," Daniel assured him solemnly. "I was on my estate and out of the way of society and its gossip until your letter arrived, and then I was busy making arrangements to sail to America to hunt for you."

Richard nodded silently, not taking his eyes off the blonde across the bal room.

She hadn’t moved but stil stood, face pale and eyes and mouth round with horror, staring at him as if he were the devil himself.

"What do we do now?" Daniel asked grimly. "You can’t confront George for the greedy, murderous, bastard of an imposter he is if he isn’t here."

Richard frowned as he realized the truth to those words.

"Worse yet," Daniel continued. "You’l have completely lost the advantage of surprise once he hears you were here at the bal . He’l know you’re alive and take measures to try to stop you from taking back everything he stole. He – Where are you going? Richard?"

Richard was now crossing the bal room to approach his "wife," detouring only to col ect a healthy glass of whiskey along the way. The depth of the woman’s horror, and the fact that she couldn’t seem to snap out of it, suggested to him that more was amiss here than even he knew about, and he wanted to know it al . Knowledge could be a deadly weapon in the right hands and Richard intended it to be in his.

"Why Christiana, I thought you said Dicky was sick," one of the older women tril ed as he reached the group.

"He looks hail and healthy to me," the woman beside her said firmly, eyeing him with suspicion. No doubt because Christiana, as the woman had cal ed her, was stil gaping at him like a fish out of water.

Richard took a moment to glance at the gaggle of women about them, his look enough to make every last one of them mutter about seeking out refreshments or friends and move away. Once left alone, Richard turned back to Christiana. Her eyes had grown wider as he approached. Unattractively so, he decided as he took in the way they almost bulged out of her head, and the woman appeared to have lost her powers of speech. She simply stood staring at him looking so pale he feared her fainting or simply dropping dead on the spot.

Frowning, he held out the glass of whiskey. "You look quite overset, my lady. This should help you regain some color."

He expected her to take a mere sip of the potent liquid so was rather startled when she took the glass he offered and tossed it back as if it were water. It certainly did the trick, however, just more so than he’d hoped. Her pal or washed away under a sudden rush of red that was real y no more attractive than the pal or had been, and she gasped as if her breath had been taken with the pal or.

She then bent forward hacking and coughing in a most violent manner.

Grimacing, Richard took the now empty glass with one hand and patted her back with the other. "I suppose I should have warned you to sip it."

Either the words or the sound of his voice brought her upright and she suddenly shrank back from his touch as if he were some unclean beast.

"You’re alive," she gasped, and the whiskey’s rasp in her voice did not hide her displeasure at the fact. It seemed obvious the woman knew of her husband’s perfidy. Richard didn’t know why but he’d assumed that she would have been innocent in al this. However, it appeared she was aware of the fact that George, his younger twin by several minutes, had hired men to kil him in a bid to steal his identity, title and wealth. She obviously was not pleased to learn it had failed. For some reason the knowledge that the woman had known about it disappointed him.

"You could at least try to hide your horror at knowing I yet live," Richard said coldly. "It wil hardly do your case much good to show so openly how little my survival pleases you."

"I – no, I – you – " she struggled briefly, and then took a deep breath and said, "It is a bit of a surprise, my lord. We were sure you were dead when we left the house tonight. You were so stil and cold in the bed . . ."

Richard felt his eyebrows rise on his forehead as he realized that she couldn’t be talking about him. He had been nowhere near this woman earlier tonight. It couldn’t be he who had been stil and cold in a bed. Was George – ?

His thoughts died as a strangled gasp sounded to the side of them. Turning, he found himself staring at two younger versions of the woman who was supposed to be his wife; one blonde and one brunette. Both looked just as horrified to see him as

"his wife" was.

"But you’re dead," the younger blonde breathed with a horror that could not be feigned. Turning to Christiana, she added with confusion, "Wasn’t he dead, Chrissy? We packed ice around him and everything."

"The ice must have revived his cold dead heart," the brunette said grimly, apparently recovering more quickly than the other two. Richard’s eyebrows rose when she added grimly, "More’s the pity."

"Suzette!" Christiana gasped. Glancing nervously at him, she moved closer to her sisters and murmured, "Perhaps we should go out for some air. Lisa looks ready to faint and you, Suzie, obviously need some time to cool yourself. Perhaps so much dancing has overheated you."

"Al ow me."

Richard glanced to Daniel as he moved to step between his "wife’s" sisters and take each by an arm. The man had obviously fol owed him and he was grateful for it.

It was now urgent that he speak to the woman who had thought she’d married the Earl of Radnor and find out whether his brother was dead or alive. Packed in ice?

Dear God.

"I shal see the ladies outside so the two of you might talk." Daniel turned Suzette and Lisa firmly away despite the fact that it was obvious neither was particularly amenable to the idea. He then glanced over his shoulder to suggest meaningful y,

"You might consider somewhere more private for this discussion."

Richard took a moment to note that while none of the other guests was presently near enough to hear properly, they were trying, and they were certainly watching.

Mouth tightening, he took his wife by the arm and began to lead her in the opposite direction to the one Daniel was leading her sisters. Christiana went no more wil ingly than her sisters had accompanied Daniel.

However, where her sisters had seemed reluctant to cause a public spectacle, "his wife" apparently didn’t care. He’d barely dragged her half a dozen feet before she planted her feet firmly and yanked her arm from his hold in a way that anyone watching would have noticed. She also planted her hands firmly on her h*ps and glared at him in a way that almost dared him to try to force her from the room. Richard glanced briefly around, frowning when he saw that they weren’t going without notice. Mouth tightening, he turned back to his "wife" and said firmly,

"We need to go somewhere more private to talk."

"No."

His eyebrows rose in surprise at the blunt refusal. "No? But – "

"I have had quite enough of your ‘talk’ during this last year of marriage, my lord,"