Catastrophe With a Count

by Murdoch, Emily

  “I did it for her, of course,” he said sadly. “Not for her exactly, but for her child, for our daughter.”

  Nerissa turned back to face her father, her mouth open.

  “From the very day that you were born,” Mr Fairchild said fondly, a weak smile on his face, “I knew that I needed to provide for you, to keep you safe, financially. I wanted you to have a dowry as much as the daughter of a baronet, perhaps even a baron! I wanted you to marry for love, my dear, and for that you needed a dowry large enough to tempt whomsoever you wanted.”

  “But…but…” Nerissa could barely comprehend what he was saying. “But father, you and mother! You loved each other, and she had barely a penny to her name when she married!”

  The faint smile on her father’s fade started to fade. “Ah, my dear. I loved her, and I had money, you see? So it did not matter that my darling Sarah had nothing. And she grew to love me, or at least I think she did. She certainly loved you, and she wanted you to have the chance to marry whoever you wanted. She did not want you to feel…to feel bought and paid for, as she did.”

  There were tears in his eyes now, and Nerissa found that tears of her own had sprung up in her eyes.

  “Father, she – she never felt that,” she managed before Mr Fairchild interrupted her.

  “Oh no, not by the time that you were born,” he said reassuringly. “You were born from love, real love. But at the beginning, it was hard for her. I did not want you to fall in love with a man and find that his affections could be overpowered by his financial concerns.”

  Nerissa thought unwillingly of Lady Olivia Stratham, left and abandoned by the man that she loved for want of a fortune.

  “‘Tis of no matter now, anyway,” she said finally, tying a bandage around her father’s arm. “I will never marry, whether for love or not.”

  Mr Fairchild raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? You are still young, my dear.”

  Nerissa laughed drily. “And yet the man that I truly love does not want me. He never wanted me, I think, except perhaps to settle…settle a score.”

  Her head tilted down, her sadness overwhelming her for a moment. What had she shouted at him?

  “I do not wish to marry you. Even if you begged me.”

  That bridge was burned now, she knew it. The fact that Anthony had been unable, or unwilling to harm her father said nothing. It was all over between them, and before it had really begun.

  Her father leaned down, placed a finger underneath her chin, and pushed it up. “My darling child,” he said gently. “That young Anthony evidently was never able to see what he was about to lose, whether it was money or a woman. The question is, do you?”

  10

  Nerissa’s skirts swished around her as she strode purposefully down the street, the weak rays of the morning sun glinting in the windows.

  There were very few people awake at this early hour, and most of them were servants. They stared in delighted shock at the young woman pacing down the street not just because of the early time of day, nor the lack of chaperone.

  It was her lack of shoes that was causing the most consternation, but Nerissa did not care. She had not cared about a lot of things when she had woken up that morning, and she had been filled with a sense of determination that she had never felt before.

  Her heart thumped painfully in her chest, but she ignored it. Yes, she may regret what she was about to do later, but more than that, she knew that if she did not do it now, she never would do: and then he may leave.

  It was not difficult to find the street where Count Anthony of Stratham had found living quarters for the last few days, but she had to pause and take a deep breath as she reached the front door. This was madness, yes, but it was madness borne from love and she would burst if she did not say the things that had been racing through her mind all night.

  Nerissa raised her right hand and knocked loudly on the door.

  Absolutely nothing happened.

  Her shoulders slumped. She could still feel the fear and anticipation in her bones, and there was a dryness in her mouth that could only be explained by the excitement and panic of talking with him.

  But he was not here. Nerissa raised her hand again and knocked, more loudly this time.

  “I know that you are in there,” she said, a little defiantly and against her better judgement. “Anthony, please…please come to the door.”

  She waited again. How long was she willing to abase herself like this? She could hear the titters of a passing serving girl who had walked behind her, and Nerissa flushed. No self-respecting young lady would ever do what she was doing at this very moment, as though she needed to damage her reputation anymore!

  Nerissa swallowed. “Come and talk to me,” she said, trying to keep the pleading from her voice. “Please, Anthony. I just want to talk to you.”

  “Down presently!” It was a groggy voice that answered her, and it came as more of a bark than a shout.

  The crashing sounds of a gentleman attempting, with the grogginess of sleep, to get dressed in the early hours of the morning echoed through the door, and Nerissa found that this increased her heart rate, rather than calmed it.

  To think that in just a few seconds she would be speaking to him. After all of this time that she had had to think, she still did not know what she was going to say.

  The door opened slowly.

  “Anthony, I – Anthony?”

  The face that had appeared at the door was certainly not Anthony. Dark haired with a beard and a filthy linen shirt covering his chest, the man leered at Nerissa.

  “And what d’you want this early?” He growled.

  Nerissa took a hasty step backwards, but did not blush. She had just as much right to enquire after the Count of Stratham as…as anyone. More so, in fact.

  “I am looking for Anthony, Count of Stratham,” she said bravely.

  Her bravery seemed to go unnoticed. The servant’s leer merely increased and he looked up and down with a knowing smile.

  “How should I know?” He said rudely. “‘Tis not my business to know, I am not his keeper. But anything that you want to say to him, you can say to me.”

  His grin widened, and Nerissa was under no illusion what he meant. She stepped forward and without even thinking, gave the man a hearty slap around the face.

  “If you value your life,” she hissed as the man howled in pain, “then you will never speak to me in that manner again, do you hear me?”

  “You hit me – you hit me, you mad woman!” He growled at her and slammed the door in her face.

  The street was strangely quiet. Nerissa sighed, all of her energy and determination flowing out of her. She had been so sure, so certain that he would be at home and willing to listen to her, willing to talk about them, about their future.

  But he was not even there. He must have decided to leave already, a week early; taken one of the smaller ships to Kingston and waited there for passage to England.

  Nerissa leaned her head against the door in exhaustion. She had had her chance of happiness, it had been right before her, and though it was a series of catastrophes that had brought them together, it was a stupid misunderstanding that had torn them apart.

  She had let it tear them apart. She had been so convinced that he had proposed marriage that she had not even stopped to think about his actual words, and now what had happened?

  She loved a man who did not know it and had only proposed, finally, because her honour was in disrepute.

  Well, there was no more that she could do here. The best that she could do was return home, and start to think about how her life would never be the same again.

  Nerissa turned around and saw Anthony standing there, right before her, in the middle of the street.

  She gasped, her hand fluttering to her chest.

  “Why are you not wearing any shoes, Nerissa?” Anthony asked simply.

  Nerissa took in a shuddering breath. This was it, then. This was her moment to make sure that she said eve
rything she wanted, that he knew everything that she was feeling.

  What happened afterwards…well. That was Anthony’s decision, and she could not make it for him.

  Ignoring his question, she took a step towards him. “Anthony. I-I had to speak with you, that is why I came here at this early hour. It was only at four o’clock this morning that I realised, and I know that the hour is ridiculous but I simply…I could not sleep for thinking of you.”

  Her gaze flickered over him, but he said nothing.

  “Anthony, the only thing that was preventing me from being with the man that I wanted to be with…the man that I loved, was my own pride,” Nerissa said sadly, a weak smile on her face.

  She wanted to leap into his arms with everything that she had, and yet he was not smiling. He was staring at her, just staring at her.

  “But why are you not wearing any shoes, Nerissa?” He repeated.

  It was easy to ignore his question now, easier for her to talk now that she had begun.

  “Yes, it was a genuine misunderstanding,” Nerissa said quietly, taking another step towards him. “And it was both of ours, really. The blame lies on both sides, equally, and therefore I say that we ignore it! It was our own stupidity for not understanding each other, and once the confusion had begun, we should have done something about it.”

  She had taken another step towards him, and she was now but three feet from him. “But to let that misunderstanding prevent us from being together, to prevent us from being happy…that would be foolish indeed.”

  “It was a stupid misunderstanding,” Anthony said in a low voice, “but Nerissa, we are having another one right now. Why are you not wearing any shoes?”

  Nerissa smiled. Somehow she knew, she just knew that they were going to understand each other, that their passion for each other was going to overcome the pain that they had both caused and received.

  Taking a final step forwards, she reached up to stroke his face. He broke out into a smile, a wary one, one full of fear, and love, and uncertainty.

  “Because,” she said simply in a quiet voice so that only he could hear her, “because I am about to dive into something that I do not really understand, and…and I do not wish to drown.”

  Anthony leaned forward and kissed her passionately, his arms reaching around and pulling her into his embrace. Nerissa gave herself up to the kiss, lost in his lips, his tongue ravaging her own, his hands tight on her waist, her hands around his neck.

  This was it, this was everything, this was Anthony: the only man that she would or could ever love. And he knew it, he must know it, because the way that he was kissing her, as though his life depended on it, as though he would never be able to explain his love for her in words – it was glorious, and she almost moaned aloud when the kiss was broken.

  “I am so sorry,” Anthony said in a jagged voice, his hands now moving to cup her face towards him. “Oh, Nerissa, nothing that I can ever say will be able to atone from the catastrophe that I almost pushed us into!”

  Nerissa knew that they were being watched, that passers-by were staring, but what did she care for them?

  “You know,” she breathed with a beaming smile, “you do have the rest of your life to make it up to me.”

  Anthony laughed and kissed her again, pushing her backwards so she had to take a few rapid steps, and leaning her against the wall of his quarters as his mouth gently teased her, kisses flowing from her mouth to her neck.

  There was a scandalised gasp of breath from somewhere behind him but Nerissa did not care, losing herself in the tantalising delight that he was sparking in her body.

  “But – but Nerissa,” Anthony said stopping abruptly and looking into her eyes with concern. “I bring nothing to this marriage, not a penny, and I have not cared for you, or – Are you…are you certain that you wish to align yourself with a brigand like myself?”

  Nerissa stared up at him; his grey eyes were bright, his jaw fixed as though preparing himself for the worst, and all she wanted to do was melt in his arms.

  “Anthony,” she said quietly with a knowing smile, “I bring more than enough for both of us – and besides, I am not marrying you for your money, nor your title in case that crosses your mind.”

  He gazed at her with such adoration she thought she would burst. “Then why?”

  Nerissa laughed. “Why, for your cool head in a crisis, of course! Who else is going to save me from drowning?”

  Anthony stared at her for a moment, and then shook his head with a smile, lowering his lips to hers once more – exactly where they were most wanted.

  11

  The woman who had once been Nerissa Fairchild burst out of the church hand in hand with the man she loved.

  She beamed at her husband, and Anthony grinned back at her as the cheers from their guests and passers-by rang in their ears. Petals were being thrown over them and Nerissa shrieked as some were stuffed down the back of her wedding gown by Abigail.

  “We will have less of that, if you do not mind,” said Anthony, helping her to shake them out of her gown. “I am the only one who should be going there, thank you very much.”

  There was murmured laughter around the churchyard, but Nerissa barely noticed who else was there. All she could see was him: Count Anthony, her beloved.

  He dipped his head down and kissed her, his hands tugging her closer to him as though they simply could not get enough of each other, and Nerissa threw her hands around his neck in an equal display of exuberance.

  There was tittering now and slightly harsher murmurings, but Nerissa did not care. How could she care, when she was married to the greatest man she had ever known?

  “I love you,” she whispered when they finally broke apart.

  “I love you no matter what,” was his whispered response, and he brought his lips down onto hers again.

  “Now then, now then, we will have less of that here, thank you.”

  A rather harassed voice broke into Nerissa’s ear, and she finally broke away from the kiss with tinged cheeks as she saw her father struggling to get through the crowd to them.

  “The wedding feast will be ready,” he was saying to guests with a smile. “Please, do come and join us to celebrate the marriage of my daughter, the Countess of Stratham.”

  Nerissa rolled her eyes slightly to see the joy that it gave her father to use her new title. Well, if it helped him to accept her husband, then she supposed that she would allow it. He would wear it out, soon enough.

  She and Anthony joined the throng that were wending their way back to her home – what had been her home. Looking around her, there were few people that she did not know, and she squeezed her husband’s hand as she asked a question.

  “ ‘Tis a shame that Olivia was unable to be here.”

  Anthony shook his head with a sigh. “It would have taken her weeks to get here, and by the time she arrived we would have been about to leave in any case. We will see her in London, I promise, and then at Daemarrel Manor. I cannot wait to introduce you – and in fact, given the slow nature of the post from Port Royal, we may arrive there sooner than my letter!”

  Nerissa laughed, and turned into the gates of her father’s home as she overheard some guests who had already arrived muttering in a corner of the garden.

  “Yes, that is what I heard, the scandal will reach London soon, but the earl will say nothing but that he is innocent!”

  Her natural curiosity piqued, she would have liked to linger for a moment and hear more of the conversation, but Anthony was striding forward into the house and pulling her along with him to the herald of more cheers.

  A gentleman that she did not know stepped forward and shook Anthony’s hand, stopping them in the hallway where it was getting congested with well-wishers.

  “Congratulations, Stratham, I could not be more pleased for you!”

  Nerissa beamed, and expected to be introduced, but instead the gentleman lowered his voice to whisper in Anthony’s ear.

  “I
have finally received word of Samuel, my lord, and he has decided to leave England before the scandal reaches London.”

  Her eyes snapped to her husband, who looked a little sorrowful.

  “And you are sure that he is serious? This is not the typical drama that Kincardine loves to indulge in?”

  The stranger shrugged. “All I have is this short letter, my lord, and you may have it if you wish.”

  Anthony held out a hand for the letter and opened it eagerly, but it was at that moment that he noticed Nerissa closely watching them, and he shook his head.

  “I can read this anytime,” he said easily, placing the letter into his waistcoat pocket. “But I only have one wedding day!”

  The gentleman laughed, bowed, and disappeared into the crowd.

  “You were not meant to hear that,” Anthony said with a wry smile to Nerissa.

  She returned his smile. “Are we going to be the married couple who has secrets from each other, then?”

  “Only other people’s,” he countered. “Now then, shall we go out into the garden? ‘Tis rather hot and stuffy in here for my liking.”

  The hibiscus was in bloom early this year, and as Nerissa stepped out into the warm weather, she felt the slight rub of a golden wedding band on the fourth finger of her left hand.

  “You know, I can barely believe it,” she said softly. “But I am so happy. You make me so happy, Anthony, you give me happiness that I did not even know I was lacking.”

  He smiled, and she saw in it everything that she wanted from her entire life.

  “You sound as though you are buttering me up for something,” he said happily. “I stand ready to be buttered.”

  Nerissa laughed. “I only wondered – ”

  “Aha, I knew that there was something!” Anthony said in triumph. “Out with it, wife.”

  She glowed to hear his words. “I only wondered whether I can find out about our marriage tour now. Where are we going?”

  Anthony rolled his eyes as they strode, arm in arm, around the garden. Guests were being offered glass of champagne by Abigail and Cook Nancy, and there was a pleasant warm chatter drifting on the breeze.