Rainford watched warily as the lady studied the sketch. He hid his relief when she shook her head.
“You are extremely talented, sir. And gifted. I do see the spirit, somewhat. She is like a dark shadow haunting the corner of the room. But I’ve had no revelation of how to do what she wants, if it is the same woman as the one in my head.”
Rain strolled over to study the portrait. His cousin had sketched a lovely likeness of the countess peacefully holding a book in her lap, gazing into the distance—not dreamily, but with eyes wide open and a determined set to her jaw.
A halo of light centered her on the paper, but in the corner behind her, darkness lingered. Rain supposed he could imagine a phantom lingering there if he tried. “We have a portrait of our Norse grandmother in Somerset. Should I send for it?”
“Only if Teddy needs it.” The lady shrugged delicately beneath her shawl. “The voice I hear comes with no face. She is growing more insistent, though, pushing at me even when I am not faint. Perhaps that’s what the sketch was meant to do, bring her closer?”
Rainford was glad of the shawl concealing her charms. His sisters had done much too well with her wardrobe. Now he was hoping the shawl would fall to one side. . .
“If I could just paint you in oil—”
The countess shook her head emphatically, dislodging the shawl. She wore a flimsy scarf tucked into her fashionable bodice, but it didn’t conceal the shadow between her nicely rounded breasts.
“Do it from memory and that sketch,” she insisted. “I don’t advise bringing your oils down here, and I will not go to your studio.”
Rain thought he might encourage the argument in hopes that she might shake the scarf loose, but he had more self-control than his cousin. “We’ll have guests descending on the morrow. I’m sure Teddy will find new distractions among the widows.” He lifted an eyebrow at his disgruntled cousin. “Or you could court one of the younger misses. Take a lesson from me and don’t wait too late.”
His burly cousin shrugged. “I’m not ready for screaming brats yet. I ain’t the paternal sort.” He glanced at Lady Craigmore. “I might make an exception for present company.”
Rain resisted the urge to plow his fist into his cousin’s square jaw. Gut clenched, he waited for the lady’s response.
She merely looked amused, tapped Teddy’s cheek as if she were a hundred-year-old great-aunt, and Teddy, a mere whippersnapper. She left Teddy growling and joined the other women across the room.
“Some women can’t be flattered,” Rain said sympathetically, hiding his triumph.
Teddy returned his sketch to his easel. “She looks like a candy confection or a fairy princess with that pointy chin and those huge eyes, but the steel spine reaches all the way to her heart. Good choice for a steward, Cuz. If she decides the butler is stealing, she’ll throw him into a snowbank on his tiny bald head.”
Rain chuckled. “You haven’t seen her softer side. She didn’t strangle the kitten who traipsed ink over her accounts. She merely carried the creature to the nursery and let the nannies punish the culprit.” Although Alicia had recently reported that the countess had another of her spells when Alicia had carried the squawking parrot into the conservatory while Lady Craigmore had been there. The lady hadn’t murdered them either.
Teddy snorted. “Soft, indeed. Marry her, and she’ll have us all stepping in line like good soldiers.”
“You exaggerate. I’ve never once heard the countess lift her voice the way the rest of you do.” Rain studied the portrait some more. She did have a very determined chin, even if it was small and pointed. It stuck out only a little, and had a dimple in it.
“Oh, no, she speaks low so we have to listen closely. I tell you, she’s a lion tamer, mark my words.” Teddy finished packing his pencils and marched out, carrying the sketch and easel with him.
Estelle approached from behind, startling Rain from his reverie. “I heard you received a missive from Lady Rutledge. Have Davis and Araminta been found?”
Rain sipped his whiskey. “They weren’t lost. They went straight to York and obtained a license. Seems the lady didn’t need to wait for her father’s permission after all.”
He should be insulted. He was rather relieved. He’d even asked his York solicitor to aid them.
“Will that harm their chances of a decent settlement?” Estelle asked in concern.
“I shouldn’t think so.” He’d written Rutledge explaining Davis was an honorable gentleman who had the sense to love a good woman. He hoped the platitude was true. “Besides, I offered him the same annual stipend I offered all of you. He’s a cousin, after all. It seemed fair.”
She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “You’re a good man under all that deadly scowling. Find a wife you enjoy bedding and forget all the rest.”
She walked off, no doubt to spread the word of what a generous gentleman he was. Rain didn’t feel generous.
He felt frustrated enough to follow his sister’s suggestion, say to hell with heirs and protocol, and see if the countess would warm his bed.
Nine
The pinnacle of the house party was, of course, a “small fête” in the grandiose ballroom. Even the guests participated in decorating to some theme Bell assumed had to do with a winter wonderland, since barren sticks adorned with silver paper, gold glass birds, and silver and gold bows appeared in pots of greenery.
Bell noticed Alicia had a decided flair for persuasion. She talked her brother into allowing bidding on dance cards, with the ladies allowed to pay to remove any names they wished, in the interest of charity. The gentleman had to decide whether it was worth topping the lady’s bid to pay for another slot. The game had all the appeal of a horse race for the gambling addicts.
Bell was given the task of keeping track of the payments. She noticed Rainford didn’t participate—other than to foot the expense for the entire affair.
The ballroom wing was far enough from the duke’s chambers that the music shouldn’t disturb him. He only grumbled a little when told he didn’t need to attend, that it wasn’t a formal affair requiring his presence. Bell was growing fond of the older man—perhaps because the voice in her head grew quiet when she visited.
“What are you wearing this evening?” Alicia demanded as she entered Bell’s office. She set down the box of cash her guests had deposited in their war of affections. “I hope it’s the gold lace with the black and gold silk skirt. You’ll look very dashing and mysterious.”
Bell picked up the books she’d meant to spend reading in peace this evening. “I haven’t purchased a dance card. I thought I might stop a while and listen to the music, but I’m looking forward to a quiet evening.”
“Every evening here is quiet!” Alicia protested. “You must come, if only to prevent Rain from abandoning my best friend in the middle of the dance floor. He’s utterly impossible!”
“I’m quite certain your brother can fend for himself. I imagine he’s been doing so since you were in the nursery. I have never seen him be rude to anyone.” She waited for Alicia to leave her small office so she could lock the door.
Alicia flounced into the hall but didn’t go farther. “He is abominably rude when he chooses to be. He’ll make excuses of business or patients or whatever pops into his head and escape. I swear, if he didn’t go through mistresses like water, I’d say he didn’t like women.”
Bell didn’t know whether to laugh or be shocked. “I’m fairly certain he likes women. What he doesn’t like is ladies. And you should apply yourself to your own love life before you try matchmaking for others. You need to know of what you speak.”
She knew when Rain looked at her. She was female enough to appreciate his male attention—and to appreciate that he didn’t act on it. She was an employee, after all. It would be extremely rude if he pushed himself at her as his cousin tried.
Alicia wrinkled up her nose and took some of the books Bell carried. “The gentlemen only talk of horses and gambling and treat me as if
I’m an empty-headed doll, when they look at me at all. I think I prefer being a spinster. It’s not as if I need to marry.”
“Now stop and think about what you said and apply it to your brother.”
“No one thinks of Rain as empty headed!”
Bell remained silent, waiting for Alicia to work it out on her own.
“He is intelligent and handsome and wealthy and. . .” Her voice trailed off. “And titled, and they see him as a treasure chest who can provide their every desire. On the whole, they’re empty-headed dolls,” she added with a sigh of resignation.
“And he was willing to be the nonentity they require when he chose Araminta, simply out of duty. Now consider whether it is better for him, and presumably any wife he chooses, to be miserable for the rest of their lives, or for all of you to hope that Teddy will mature and not go too mad with the family fortune.”
Alicia sulked but didn’t argue the point. She returned to her original protest. “You still need to be there. You cannot bury yourself in books. What if there is a gentleman there who might make you happy?”
Given her weakness, Bell did not think that a possibility. But she had left Craigmore with the intent to experience more of life than she had, so she supposed she should attend. She did enjoy music.
“I’ll sit in the corner and watch for a while,” she agreed. “But the lace is far too grand. I am only the steward here, after all.”
“Oh, fie, you’re a countess. One as pig-headed as Rainford, admittedly. Perhaps titles go to one’s heads and makes your brains small. The gold is perfect. I’ll tell Rain to buy you a dance card or I’ll buy him one.”
Reaching the main block of the residence, Alicia handed the stack of books she carried to a footman and added the ones Bell carried. “I’ll send a maid to help you dress and fix your hair.”
That was how she ended up going to a ball.
Her hair was too short to dress the way the maid liked. Bell didn’t even offer up the net of hair she’d cut off for use in building a coiffure. She liked her hair short. It went with her small, forgettable face. The gown, as she’d predicted, was much too grand for someone of her size. She might be average height, but she wasn’t voluptuous and had little to show off in the way of curves.
But the blond lace over the gold silk was very pretty, and the ruffled black train was the most elegant thing she’d ever owned. She added her mother’s small string of pearls and deemed herself ready.
The maid insisted on tucking a gardenia from the conservatory into the feathery confection she’d pinned to Bell’s hair. The flower smelled delightful, so she agreed to that simple addition. Any more, and her scrawny neck would probably break trying to hold the thing up.
Bell was uncertain about appearing unaccompanied and wondered if she might slip in a back entrance. But when she peered out of her room to see if she could do so unnoticed, she discovered Teddy lounging against the wall, waiting for her. She almost didn’t recognize him out of his messy painter’s clothes.
He brightened at her appearance. “There you are! I thought perhaps you’d escaped and were hiding in the library. They won’t give me a key to it anymore.”
Bell laughed at his naughty boy grin.
In his elegantly tailored black suit, with his auburn beard and mustache neatly trimmed, he presented a handsome figure. It seemed unfair that the Winchester men had claimed all the good looks in the family. Sharp noses, square jaws, and high brows didn’t work as well on women. She wondered if the Nordic grandmother had been the overriding influence in their looks.
Relieved not to have to appear on her own, Bell accepted his arm. “Do you cultivate carelessness or does it come naturally?”
He chuckled. “Rain’s been telling tales, has he? I’ll admit. I’m careless. My head never seems to be with the rest of me. But I clean up well, don’t I?”
Bell laughed again. In these past years, she’d almost forgotten how. “How old are you exactly? Twelve? Perhaps Rain should set you loose on the world and see how you fare on your own. Then maybe your head would learn to stay on your neck.”
“I’d rather have a woman take care of me. I’m fine in my studio. She can handle everything else. You’re my perfect match,” he declared solemnly. “And at the rate Rain is going, I’ll have a very large fortune for you to manage.”
“That’s unkind and shows your lack of compassion. If you marry with that approach, your wife will kill you as soon as you inherit. You might want to reconsider your plan.”
Teddy whistled in surprise at her bluntness, causing a few of the guests strolling down the corridor to glance in their direction. “Ouch. I offer you the opportunity to control the family fortune, and you suggest you’d kill me?”
“First, you did not ask me to marry. You made a rude suggestion. And secondly, I did not agree to be your wife, so my suggestion was more general. Any woman would want to kill you, unless you married a mouse.” Bell was starting to enjoy herself. She’d always wanted a brother, and Teddy treated her the same as he did his cousins. She felt free to respond in kind.
“I see I must frame my suggestions more carefully. I shall wait until I’ve danced you off your feet. . . Do you have a dance card? I don’t remember bidding on it.” His large presence and wide gestures provided a safe space in the crush heading to the ballroom.
“Alicia threatened to give me one, but I did not buy it and do not feel compelled to use it. I mean only to stay long enough to decide if the musicians are worth listening to.” Bell enjoyed the chatter of elegantly garbed guests as they entered the fantasy land Alicia and her guests had created. She’d met most of the company at dinner over the past days, so she did not feel too out of place.
And if she fainted for any reason, she had acres of petticoats and people to catch her.
“If Alicia is in control of your card, I completely agree with your decision to ignore it. She won’t have left space for me. I’ll take the supper waltz. After that, I’ll be comatose and of no use to anyone. I like my meals.”
“And your drink. If you really are interested in acquiring a wife to manage you, you had best control the drink. Managing women will certainly murder you if you become a drunkard.”
“Huh, no wonder Rain don’t marry. It’s damned difficult to please everyone. Marrying a mouse might prove beneficial.” He proudly covered her gloved hand with his own as they stepped into the ballroom to be announced.
Standing at the head of the reception line, Rainford marked their approach with a frigid glare. “Toddle off, Teddy, I need to speak with Lady Craigmore.”
Rudely stepping out of the reception line, the marquess took Bell’s arm and all but dragged her into the ballroom.
Perfect timing, Rain congratulated himself. The musicians were tuning up in preparation for the first dance and Alicia was occupied with a gaggle of her friends.
“Doesn’t Alicia have you set to lead the dancing with someone in particular?” The countess hurried to catch up with him.
He had seen her walk through the doorway looking like a golden fairy queen, complete with flowers in her hair, and he refused to let Teddy claim her. Bad of him, he knew, but Teddy knew how to charm and Rain didn’t.
The simpering misses he’d welcomed into the ballroom already had his gut clenching. He knew better than to fall for an enticing demeanor. All the rouge, flapping lashes, and revealing cleavage in the world could not turn his head. He didn’t know what it was that he looked for, but the countess had taught him that his dinner table needed sensible conversation.
“Alicia should learn she can’t control the entire household.” He dismissed his sister’s manipulations and signaled the musicians to hurry up.
“But you are no doubt disappointing some pretty young thing who might be the perfect bride. Now that you’ve insulted her—”
The fairy queen was a nag. Rain wondered what she’d do if he kissed her. “Do you know how to dance? Is that the reason you’re protesting?”
“I att
ended a few Hogmanay celebrations. I’m fairly certain reels don’t count in your estimation. The last time I danced a waltz was in my one London season. I daresay I’ll step all over your toes, but you won’t mind because you’ve succeeded at what you want, correct?”
Rain didn’t respond to her rhetorical remark. Of course he’d done what he’d wanted. It was one of the few prerogatives of his position. “Your last season was what, maybe two years ago? How old are you, anyway, that you call all those schoolroom misses young things?” Finally, the musicians struck a chord for a simple promenade where he could hold her hand a while longer.
If he didn’t have to involve his father, he’d ask the countess to experiment with more handholding and healing. He stupidly wanted to believe a little magic would help.
“I turned twenty-four this past autumn,” she said stiffly, watching the other dancers so she knew how to step. “But age does not reflect experience.”
“I am thirty-four and a hundred years ahead of those misses in years and experience. Just follow me. You needn’t worry about those pretty slippers. Is that gown another of Alicia’s notions?”
She flashed him a golden glare that practically reflected the light in sunbeams. “I told Alicia you were never rude to people. Must I retract that statement? I can dance once I’m back in practice. I choose my own gowns. I have been running my own estate since infancy. Why do you pretend I am a toy to be displayed as an act of defiance against those who only wish the best for you?”
“Is that what I’m doing? I thought I was flattering a lovely lady and displaying her for a roomful of eligible young gentlemen to admire. Most women would be delighted.” He was doing no such thing. He was spiting Teddy and Alicia and enjoying himself.
“I am beginning to see the family similarity to your sister and cousin.” She relaxed in his arms a trifle.
“And you call me rude!” He truly was insulted. Teddy and Alicia were scatterbrains. “That was unfair. I bear no resemblance whatsoever to that pair.”
Captivating the Countess Page 8
