To Catch a Countess

by Patricia Grasso

  “And a good day to you, my lady. Sit here at the table. The light from the window will suffice.”

  Victoria sat and opened her reticule to produce a wad of notes, her entire monthly allowance from her husband. She set it on the table, saying, “This is the agreed-upon amount for the next month.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” Phineas lifted the notes from the table and set them on a shelf.

  “We must warn you that our strategies will take much time and effort on your part,” Barnaby said. “You may suffer some frustration as there is no timetable we can give you for mastering each of these strategies.”

  “I am grateful for your help.”

  “Only hard work will improve your skills,” Phineas added.

  Victoria nodded. “I am ready to begin.”

  “We would like you to read this paper to the best of your ability,” Barnaby said.

  Victoria took the paper out of his hand and placed it on the table. With one finger pointed on each word, she read haltingly as if each syllable was an individual word. “At nine in the morn-ing, the dark-ing bog saw in the bark dog.” She looked up. “This makes no sense.”

  “Listen to our first strategy,” Phineas said. “Whenever you see the letter b, pronounce it like the d in did. Try it.”

  “At nine in the morn-ing, the dark-ing dog saw in the dark dog,” Victoria read again. “It still makes no sense.”

  Barnaby smiled. “That is because we can only teach you only one strategy at a time. Three strategies are needed to read the sentence correctly.”

  “What are the other three?”

  “We cannot tell you until you learn the first strategy,” Phineas told her. “B is d as in did must become as involuntary as breathing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Involuntary is something you do without thinking about how to do it,” Barnaby told her.

  Victoria stared at him blankly.

  “You breathe in and out every second of your life,” Phineas explained, “but you never actually think about breathing.”

  “You breathe without thinking about how to do it,” Barnaby added.

  “You must read b as d in did without thinking to do it,” Phineas told her. “When you do, we will progress to the next strategy.”

  “How do I make it involuntary?”

  “By practicing,” Barnaby told her. “Your homework is to sit with the newspaper every day and translate b’s into d’s as in did.”

  “We will test your progress when you come next,” Phineas said.

  “B is d as in did,” Victoria said, rising from her chair.

  Both Philbin brothers nodded with enthusiasm.

  Victoria gave them a worried look. “Do you think I will be able to write my husband a love letter for Christmas?”

  “Don’t worry about that, my lady,” Barnaby told her. “When the time comes, you will make the earl a proud man.”

  “I will see you next Thursday or the week after that,” Victoria said, shaking their hands. “Until then, b is d as in did.”

  Waving goodbye, Victoria left the Philbin home and started down Oxford Street. “B is d as in did,” she chanted to herself, her lips moving silently.

  Victoria was still chanting when she arrived home. Bundles opened the front door for her when she reached the top step.

  “Is my husband home?” Victoria asked, passing him her parasol.

  “No, my lady.”

  “Please bring the Times and a glass of lemonade to the drawing room.” Victoria walked toward the stairs, lowered her voice, and chanted, “B is d as in did.”

  “My lady, did you say something?”

  Victoria turned around and gave him a smile filled with sunshine. “I said, b is d as in did.” Then she continued up the stairs.

  Bundles arrived in the drawing room with a tray containing a pitcher of lemonade, a crystal goblet, and the morning’s Times. He set the tray on the table in front of the settee and then paused as if in indecision.

  Victoria noted his troubled expression. “Is something wrong?”

  “There is a woman—not a lady—in the foyer who is demanding to speak to you in His Lordship’s absence.”

  “Who is it?”

  “She is a bad woman,” Bundles answered. “I explained that you couldn’t possibly speak with her, but she said she’d wait for His Lordship.”

  “A bad woman?” Victoria echoed, giving him a puzzled smile.

  The majordomo nodded.

  “I will see her.” Victoria walked downstairs to the foyer.

  There were three females waiting to see her husband. A beautiful, ebony-haired woman paced the foyer and turned toward the stairs when she heard Victoria approaching. The woman wore a low cut gown that displayed generous breasts, though she was petite without being thin.

  An ebony-haired girl, about five years old, sat on the bench and was obviously the woman’s daughter. With her was an older woman, perhaps forty years.

  “Are you the Countess of Winchester?” the woman asked.

  “I’m sorry,” Victoria said, her smile apologetic. “Either my husband or Mr. Bundles hires the household staff.”

  “I have not come for a job,” the woman said, her tone haughty. “I am a dancer with the ballet.”

  Victoria felt confused. “How may I help you?”

  “Tell his Lordship that Suzette is returning one of his gifts,” the woman said. “His daughter, Darcy. Her bags are on the sidewalk outside.” At that, Suzette fled the mansion.

  After a moment of frozen shock, Victoria recovered herself. She raced after the woman, only to see the dancer climbing into a coach at the corner. Returning inside, Victoria saw the girl weeping while the older woman offered what comfort she could. Bundles stood there, apparently at a loss what to do.

  “Nanny Pinky, I want my mother.” The girl sobbed, burying her face on the woman’s lap.

  “Shall I send for His Lordship?” Bundles asked.

  “Do not send for him.” Victoria knelt in front of the weeping child. “Darcy?”

  The girl looked up at her through hazel eyes blurred with tears. Alexander’s eyes.

  “Your mother needed to go out for a while,” Victoria said, producing a handkerchief and wiping the girl’s tears. “She brought you to visit us. Did you know your father lives here?”

  “No.”

  “Have you ever met your father?” Victoria asked, hoping the hazel eyes were only a coincidence.

  “My daddy is very tall,” Darcy said, perking up. “He has yellow hair.”

  Victoria felt her heart sinking to her stomach, but she managed a warm smile for her husband’s daughter. “How old are you?”

  “Five.” Darcy held out her hand to wiggle her fingers and thumb, emphasizing her age.

  “I was just going to tell Bundles to bring me lemonade and walnut pudding,” Victoria told the girl. “Would you like to join me?”

  “I love walnut pudding and lemonade,” Darcy said, clapping her hands together. “Can Pinky come, too?”

  “Pinky is also invited.” Victoria stood and held out her hand. The girl stood, too, and accepted the offered hand.

  “Send a footman for their bags,” Victoria instructed the majordomo. “Serve us walnut pudding and lemonade in the dining room.”

  “But, my lady—”

  “Do it now.”

  Followed by the nanny, Victoria led the little girl into the dining room and helped her to sit down. Then she turned to the nanny and gestured to a chair.

  “Oh, I could not sit at the table with a countess,” the woman said, flustered.

  “Sit down,” Victoria ordered. “Now.”

  “Sit, Pinky,” Darcy said, imitating her new friend.

  Bundles returned and set the tray on the table. He set a dish of walnut pudding in front of each of them and poured lemonade into crystal glasses.

  “Ask my husband to come here when he returns,” Victoria told the majordomo.

  “Yes, my lady.”
Bundles left the dining room.

  “Did you know that your name, Darcy, means dark hair?” Victoria asked the five year old.

  “You have red hair,” Darcy said.

  Victoria nodded. “That is correct.”

  “Who are you?” Darcy asked.

  “I am your daddy’s wife,” Victoria answered. “That means I am your fairy godmother. I own a magic wand and fairy dust.”

  “Can I see them?” Darcy asked, her enormous eyes even larger with her excitement.

  “I’ll let you hold them if you want,” Victoria promised, staring into hazel eyes so much like her husband’s. “Do you like playing games?”

  “I love games,” Darcy cried.

  Victoria felt an insistent tugging on her heartstrings and leaned close. “I know lots of games we can play.”

  Darcy clapped her hands together in excitement.

  Sensing a movement near the doorway, Victoria turned her head and saw her husband standing there. The nanny followed her gaze and leaped out of the chair to drop him a curtsey.

  “Do you know who this is?” Victoria called to her husband.

  Wearing a grim expression, Alexander walked across the dining room. “Darcy is my daughter.”

  “You’ve met?”

  Alexander nodded. “Several times.”

  Several times? How could he sire a child and then only see her several times? What kind of man had she married?

  “Do you have a kiss for me?” Alexander asked, leaning down to the little girl.

  Darcy threw her arms around his neck. Then she planted a smacking kiss on his lips.

  “You taste very sweet.”

  Darcy laughed. “It’s the walnut pudding.”

  Alexander stood then and looked at Victoria. “I want an explanation.”

  “So do I, darling,” Victoria drawled, sounding like her aunt. “Mister Bundles, escort our guests upstairs and help them settle into one of the bedchambers.”

  “Have you gone mad?” Alexander asked, his irritation all too evident in his voice.

  Victoria ignored him. When the majordomo hesitated, she said, “Do it now, Bundles.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Darcy?” Victoria asked when they were alone.

  “My daughter is none of your business,” Alexander said. “I’ll make arrangements to send her home.”

  “Darcy is home,” Victoria said. “I cannot in good conscience return the child to the mother who abandoned her.”

  “Don’t be naive,” Alexander said. “Harboring a gentleman’s bastard is unacceptable and unseemly.”

  “Unseemly is begetting her in the first place.”

  There was no mistaking the fury in her glittering blue gaze. Alexander opened his mouth to speak, but Victoria was faster. “If you ever use the word bastard in this house again, I’ll—I’ll wash your mouth with soap.”

  Her threat brought a smile to his lips. “I do appreciate your concern for my daughter,” Alexander said, his tone softening. “You cannot keep another woman’s child.”

  “That dancer surrendered her rights when she abandoned Darcy.”

  “I have provided handsomely for Darcy,” Alexander said. “Her mother is trying to get more money.”

  “Look at the silver lining,” Victoria said. “Since Darcy now lives here, you need not send the dancer any money. We will take tea in the library and discuss this further. Now I must see to our guests’ comfort.” Victoria breezed out of the dining room, leaving her husband staring after her in amazement.

  Alexander sat at the table and, staring into space, wondered what to do about Darcy. That his bride of less than a month would champion his illegitimate daughter surprised him. He had never seen Victoria the way she had faced him—mature, determined, in command of herself and others. She behaved as kindly to his daughter as any man would wish.

  He loved her but trusted her no more than any other woman.

  Fickle and flighty creatures, women suffered no qualms about betrayal when it suited their purpose. Lydia Stanley had taught him that hard lesson.

  Alexander noticed his daughter had eaten only half of her walnut pudding. Dragging the dish in front of him, he finished her pudding and then rose from the chair. He found his majordomo waiting for him in the foyer.

  “My lord, what should I do about these?” Bundles asked, gesturing to the bags.

  Shoving his hands in his trouser pockets, Alexander looked from the majordomo to the bags and then back again. “My wife insists that Darcy stays awhile. Have a footman carry their bags upstairs.”

  Bundles smiled. “Very good, my lord.”

  Alexander went directly to his office, located in the section of the library nearest the windows overlooking the garden. He sat down at his desk, intending to work, and opened one of his ledgers.

  Realizing he’d read the same figures for the fifth time, Alexander closed the ledger and poured himself a whisky. He relaxed back in his chair to ponder his domestic situation. The ton’s gossipmongers would feast on this juicy tidbit. Even worse, his daughter’s arrival could have ended his marriage before it had begun. Victoria had not responded to the problem like a typical society wife. His bride had behaved with infinite charity and kindness.

  Alexander smiled to himself when he recalled Victoria threatening to wash his mouth out with soap. His bride was full of surprises. Not only had he discovered she was a creature of passion but possessed an abundance of maternal instinct. He had married a woman who loved children, for which he was thankful. Unlike other society wives, she had easily accepted his by-blow. Might Victoria merit his trust where others had not?

  Intending to see what was happening upstairs, Alexander rose from his chair and walked through the library. Venetia and Diana Drummond walked into the room just as he reached the doorway. This was all he needed to make the day complete.

  “Good afternoon, Alex.” Venetia planted a sisterly kiss on his cheek.

  “Good afternoon, my lord,” Diana greeted him, her voice sultry.

  Alexander wished he had not given them carte blanche to his library. The widow had been making not-so-subtle overtures to him. He hoped his wife’s innocence blinded her to the woman’s amorous bent. Though he had no intention of becoming involved with the widow, Alexander did not want his wife bothered by uncertainty.

  “Diana wanted to browse in your library and, perhaps, borrow a few books,” Venetia said.

  While the widow began looking at the books, Venetia made herself comfortable on the settee. “Is anything wrong? You appear a bit distracted.”

  “All is well with the world,” Alexander said, and turned to leave the library before his wife arrived. “If you will excuse—”

  Too late. Victoria marched into the library like Napoleon advancing on Moscow. She stopped short when she saw their guests.

  Both women greeted Victoria with a “Good afternoon.”

  Victoria ignored them. “We need to speak.”

  “We’ll discuss that matter when our guests leave.”

  “I’m certain your guests don’t mind leaving immediately,” Victoria said, purposely rude. She did not want his sister and the widow visiting without an invitation.

  “Victoria.”

  “Is there trouble?” Venetia asked, rising from the settee.

  “Suzette abandoned her daughter here today.”

  “That ballet dancer with whom—” Venetia glanced at Victoria.

  “Why would a ballet dancer leave her daughter here?” Diana asked.

  “Alexander is the father.” Venetia turned to Alexander. “Send the girl home at once.”

  “That would be best for all,” Diana agreed.

  “My wife refuses to part with the child,” Alexander told them, smiling.

  Her husband should have been the one refusing to part with the girl, Victoria thought. The situation seemed like a twisted coil.

  Venetia and Diana threw surprised looks at each other. Victoria caught their silent exchange but had no idea what
it meant.

  “Lady Victoria, please accept this advice in the spirit it is given,” Diana Drummond said. “Housing your husband’s by-blow is unacceptable. The gossips will chew on this for years.”

  “Mind your own business,” Victoria snapped.

  “Alexander,” Venetia whined.

  “Tory, you are speaking to my sister and her sister-in-law,” Alexander said, a warning note in his voice.

  “I know to whom I am speaking. I’m not blind.”

  “You should consider Alex’s reputation,” Venetia scolded her.

  “If Alex did not consider his own reputation before, then why should I consider it now?” Victoria felt her anger rising to a dangerous level. “As a matter of fact, I find your company offensive. Get out of my house and do not return without an invitation.”

  “My house,” Alexander corrected her.

  “I thought this was our house,” Victoria said, stung by his sentiment.

  “You are behaving badly,” Alexander said.

  “And so are you,” Victoria returned, furious that he was speaking to her in that manner in front of the other two. “Your sister and the widow wouldn’t recognize morality if it jumped up and bit their arses.”

  “This is outrageous,” Venetia complained. “She’s taking her anger over your daughter out on us.”

  “Venetia and Diana are merely trying to help by getting you to think about the repercussions of gossip,” Alexander said. “Apologize.”

  “I wouldn’t apologize to save my soul.” Muttering to herself about disloyalty, Victoria stormed out of the library.

  Alexander watched her leave and knew he could have handled the situation differently. In his effort to show politeness, he had insulted his wife. Now she would make him pay for it. If he had known marriage was this difficult, he might have remained a bachelor.

  “I can see that Victoria has upset you.” Venetia rose from the settee. “Really, Alex, you should have married an older, more experienced woman. Perhaps even someone who’d been married before.”

  “With all due respect, my lord,” Diana Drummond said, “Lady Victoria’s lack of common sense is appalling.”

  “The twit is stupid,” Venetia added.

  “My wife is far from stupid,” Alexander said, a hard edge to his voice. “I cannot fault her for an opinion, only her lack of tact in giving voice to it. Tory has good reason to dislike you.”