To Catch a Countess

by Patricia Grasso

  “Are we attending the Cavendish affair tonight?” Victoria asked, her smile forced and overly bright. “My sisters and brothers-in-law will be attending.”

  “I am engaged for the evening at White’s,” Alexander said, watching her expression droop. “You will be staying home where you belong.”

  “A quiet evening at home sounds wonderful,” she said, rising from the chair. “Will we be dining together?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “I see.” Without another word, Victoria breezed out of his study as if she had not a care in the world.

  Alexander gave her high marks for facing the lion in his den. She must have read the Times gossip column. His wife would be passing many evenings alone at home until she learned who gave the orders and who obeyed.

  The duchess’s words slammed into his consciousness. Victoria never actually refuses to do anything. She agrees to whatever you want and then does what she wants.

  Alexander sat up straight. Would Victoria attend the Cavendish affair without him? Was she that brave? Or foolish? He would take himself to the Cavendish affair before the guests went down to supper. If his wife was there, he would drag her home and make sure she couldn’t sit comfortably for a week.

  That evening, Victoria sat on the settee in her chamber and practiced transposing her b’s and d’s while waiting for her husband to leave. Her thoughts were mutinous. She felt tired and didn’t want to go to a ball, but her husband was forcing her to do this. He needed to be taught a lesson.

  White’s was for gentlemen only, but how could she be sure that was his real destination? Could he be engaging in a secret rendezvous with Diana Drummond? Another woman?

  Victoria heard the connecting door open but ignored his presence until she spied his shoes planted on the floor beside her. She looked up and noted his formal evening attire. Was that required at White’s or was he going somewhere else?

  “What were you mumbling?” Alexander asked.

  “Incantations.”

  Alexander smiled. “I hope you aren’t hexing me.”

  “I would never do that,” Victoria said, a smile on her lips.

  “I see you are comfortable in your bed robe. Have you eaten?”

  “I had a late lunch. Mrs. Hull will send me a tray later.”

  Alexander shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “Is there anything I can do for you before I leave?”

  Victoria looked at him with longing in her eyes. “I can’t think of anything.”

  “Have yourself a good evening.” Alexander left the chamber.

  Victoria felt tears welling up in her eyes as the door clicked behind him. She forced her tears back and sat staring into space for a long time.

  What if she went to the Cavendish affair and Alexander showed up there with another woman? Her husband would never be so cruel as to escort another woman to a ball, would he? Thankfully, both Samantha and Angelica planned to attend the Cavendish affair. She need not worry about being alone.

  Judging nearly an hour had passed since her husband’s departure, Victoria rose from the settee and removed her bed robe. Beneath it, she wore the low-cut, midnight blue gown. Leaving her fiery curls cascading around her, she donned her diamond collar and walked across the chamber to inspect herself in the cheval mirror.

  Aplomb. Aplomb. Aplomb. Victoria smiled at her image. Though her stomach was still flat, her breasts were swollen, which made the gown’s neckline daring.

  Planning her evening, Victoria decided to dance and flirt with the Kazanov brothers. Then she would return home before her husband and hope the society reporter would mention her being at the Cavendish affair. She would be declaring her independence without facing her husband. Her rebellion would tell Alexander that he could not issue edicts and expect obedience, especially when he held himself to another standard.

  Thirty minutes later, Victoria arrived at the Cavendish mansion. She hoped her sisters had already arrived and had no idea what to do if they were late.

  “The Countess of Winchester,” the Cavendish majordomo announced.

  Walking down the stairs into the ballroom, Victoria spied her sisters and brothers-in-law on the far side of the room. She noticed several gentlemen giving her appreciative glances and wished that her husband could see that other men found her attractive.

  Victoria wended her way through the crowd. Spying Venetia and Diana made her feel better. At least, Alexander wasn’t with the widow that evening. He wasn’t with Lydia Stanley, either.

  “Where’s Alex?” Samantha asked, when she reached their group

  “We’ve gone our separate ways this evening.”

  “I thought he forbade you to wear that gown in public,” Angelica said.

  Victoria gave her sisters a jaunty smile. “He did.”

  She saw her brothers-in-law look at each other and smile, but then noticed Rupert Wilmington approaching, his gaze fixed on her breasts. She grabbed the prince’s hand and said, “Dance with me.”

  Prince Rudolf and Victoria stepped onto the dance floor together. They began the swirling steps of the waltz.

  “Are you certain you won’t fall out of that gown?” Rudolf teased her.

  Victoria felt the heated blush rising on her cheeks. “Rupert Wilmington certainly had an anticipatory expression on his face.”

  “I’m surprised Alex and you went your separate ways tonight,” Rudolf said. “I would have thought Alex would be so happy about the baby that he would remain by your side all evening.”

  “Alex doesn’t know about the baby yet,” Victoria said. “We argued when I arrived home last night, and he forbade me to go out unless he escorted me. Just to be difficult, he insisted he had a prior engagement at White’s tonight.”

  Rudolf waltzed her off the dance floor. “Tory, I suggest you leave immediately and pray that Alex doesn’t get home before you.”

  “I am not ready to go home yet.”

  “Don’t be stubborn,” the prince said. “Your disobedience is not a good idea.”

  “If my husband can huddle with the widow,” Victoria said, “then I can take myself to a ball and dance with whomever . . . oh, my God!”

  Her gaze fixed on the stairs as the Cavendish majordomo announced, “The Earl of Winchester.”

  “Tory, do not swoon.”

  “I need to hide,” she said, trying to yank her hand out of his.

  “Tell Alex about the baby immediately,” Rudolf advised, grasping her forearm before she could bolt. “He will forgive your disobedience.”

  “Yes, I’ll tell him,” Victoria agreed, her complexion pale. “I need to hide until I compose myself.” She headed in the direction of the ladies’ withdrawing room. How much harm could her husband do before she spilled the news of her pregnancy?

  Victoria neared the sanctuary of the withdrawing room, but a strong hand on her arm halted her progress. “I believe this is our dance,” she heard her husband say.

  Victoria faced her husband. Panic quickened her heartbeat and incited her stomach to somersaults. Raising her gaze to his, she saw amusement mixed with anger gleaming at her from his hazel gaze.

  “Tory, you are so wonderfully predictable.”

  “You’re supposed to be at White’s,” Victoria said, and then realized how idiotic she sounded.

  “What am I going to do with you, wife?” Alexander ran a long finger down the side of her cheek. “You disobeyed my order to remain at home.” He dropped his gaze to her cleavage. “You are wearing that gown.”

  “Please, Alex, I must speak to you before you do anything,” Victoria said, an urgent note in her voice.

  Alexander escorted her to an alcove where they could expect a measure of privacy. He maneuvered her into a position with her back against the wall and towered over her. “Speak.”

  “Did you come here tonight to see Diana Drummond or Lydia Stanley?”

  “I came here to fetch you.”

  “I came tonight because you ordered me to stay home,” Victori
a tried to explain. “If you had preferred I stay home, I would not have disobeyed.”

  “Are you telling me your disobedience is my fault?”

  “I don’t know how to explain myself.” With tears welling up in her eyes, Victoria blurted out, “Alex, we’re going to have a baby.”

  “A baby?” he echoed.

  “I didn’t know until my aunt told me,” Victoria said. “That’s why I hurried back to London. Only I couldn’t contain my news until you returned from the opera. When I saw you with the widow—”

  “I understand.” Alexander drew her closer and tilted her chin up. “I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

  “I’m sorry I disobeyed,” Victoria apologized. “Why can’t you see what Diana Drummond is doing?”

  “I do see that Diana Drummond is throwing herself at me,” Alexander admitted. “Because of my sister, I could not give her the cut. You need feel no jealousy over Diana or any other woman.”

  “Can we go home now?”

  “If we leave now,” Alexander said, “people will wonder the reason we are leaving so early.” He tipped his head toward the dance floor. “Let’s dance and speak to your relations. Then we’ll go home.”

  Alexander led her onto the dance floor and drew her into his arms. They joined the other couples in the waltz around the ballroom.

  I love you, Victoria thought, her heart shining in her eyes.

  Alexander stopped dancing. “What did you say?”

  Victoria blushed. “I love you, Alex.”

  “You are the best thing that ever happened to me,” Alexander said, lifting her hand to his lips, disregarding the curious looks they were drawing. Then he ushered her off the dance floor and led her in the direction of her relations.

  Did his words mean he loved her? If so, why couldn’t he say the words?

  He doesn’t love you, she told herself. He agreed to Aunt Roxie’s proposal to clear his conscience about Charles Emerson’s transgressions.

  “We have an announcement,” Alexander said to her family. “Victoria and I are expecting a baby.”

  Thankfully, Rudolf and Samantha pretended surprise. Her sisters hugged her while Robert and Rudolf shook her husband’s hand.

  “Are you ready to leave?”

  “Yes, I feel tired tonight.” Seeing the disappointment in his gaze, Victoria amended herself, “Not that tired.”

  Everyone laughed, which made Victoria blush. That made her husband smile.

  “Will you join Robert and me for lunch at White’s tomorrow?” Rudolf asked.

  Alexander nodded. Taking his wife’s hand, he escorted her across the ballroom. As they neared the stairs, Rupert and Miriam Wilmington blocked their path.

  “You aren’t leaving?” Miriam asked, her gaze on Alexander.

  “We haven’t danced yet,” Rupert said, his gaze on Victoria’s cleavage.

  “Victoria feels tired tonight,” Alexander answered. “Expectant mothers tire easily.”

  “What wonderful news,” Miriam gushed. “I am certain your sisters are a wealth of knowledge, but if you need advice, don’t hesitate to call upon me.”

  “Thank you, Lady Miriam.”

  “I hope you get your heir,” Rupert said.

  “We hope so, too.” Alexander escorted her to the stairs where Venetia and Diana blocked their path. “I left Harry at White’s.”

  “You aren’t leaving, my lord?” Diana asked.

  “My expectant wife feels tired tonight,” Alexander said. Victoria could see their smiles did not quite reach their eyes.

  “Congratulations,” Diana said.

  “Don’t let us keep you,” Venetia said.

  Alexander started to turn away and then paused. “I dislike being rude, but I would prefer privacy at the opera on Thursday evenings. You are welcome to use the box any other evening. Please, send us a note before you stop by to visit our home. Tory hasn’t been feeling well. I know you’ll understand.”

  Both women inclined their heads.

  Victoria felt her spirits rise. Her husband had done what she had asked. Perhaps he did harbor more than a little fondness for her.

  Venetia and Diana watched them leave. “I doubt Lady Victoria will leave your brother now,” Diana said.

  “If Victoria Douglas won’t leave Alexander,” Venetia said, “then he will leave her, and you will be his countess. I will hire an investigator to watch her and find us some dirt.”

  “What if there is none?”

  “Then we’ll manufacture dirt to throw at her and hope it sticks.”

  Chapter 12

  “Mama Tory, let’s play magic wand,” Darcy called.

  “And pixie dust,” Fiona added.

  “Hooray for fairies and pixies,” Aidan shouted, tossing a handful of leaves into the air.

  “No more wishes until your baby brother arrives,” Victoria said, and then smiled at the three nannies sitting on a nearby bench in the earl’s garden.

  Autumn wore its most serene expression on that first day of November. The humid days of August had faded into the morning mists and warm afternoons of September. Michaelmas daisies had come and gone, the season melting into October’s golden afternoons, crisp nights, and carpets of brilliantly colored leaves in red and orange and gold.

  My belly bulges. Victoria placed the palm of her hand against it. She prayed the next six months would be as peaceful as the last few weeks.

  Thankfully, Venetia and Diana had respected her husband’s request. Neither had attended the opera on Thursday evenings and never visited without permission. Still, Victoria suffered the uncomfortable feeling that they were planning her demise.

  “Lady Victoria, His Lordship wishes to speak to you in the library,” Bundles said, drawing her attention.

  “Thank you, Bundles.”

  Victoria stopped short when she stepped into the library. On the settee sat Suzette, Maeve, and Nell, her husband’s former mistresses. Alexander stood with his back to the hearth and faced the three women.

  Panic swelled in Victoria. The women could only be there to retrieve their daughters. She loved the little girls and could not bear to part with them now.

  “No,” Victoria moaned, grabbing the doorjamb as dizziness washed over her.

  “Excuse me,” Alexander said to the women. “I must speak with my wife.” He crossed the library and, taking his wife’s hand in his, led her down the corridor to the drawing room.

  “Sit here.” Alexander helped her into a chair and knelt on one bended knee in front of her. “They want their daughters.”

  “Send them away.” Tears welled up in Victoria’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

  “I know you are hurting,” Alexander said, “but you can’t keep another woman’s child. You know that, Tory.”

  “The girls belong to you, too,” Victoria sobbed. “Offer money and visitation if they will assign guardianship to you.”

  Alexander held her in his arms and stroked her back in an effort to soothe. “I know you love them,” he said, “but their mothers’ demands will be never ending.”

  “The girls will believe that we abandoned them,” Victoria argued through her sobs.

  “The girls love their mothers, too,” Alexander said.

  “I can’t bear to part with them,” Victoria said, her voice muffled against his chest.

  “I’ll ask the girls with whom they would prefer to live.”

  “Don’t make them choose,” Victoria said, lifting her gaze to his. “The girls will always feel guilty about hurting the unchosen parent. Will their mothers let them visit us?”

  “I’m sure of that,” Alexander answered. “I never imagined this would happen.”

  “Shall I pack their belongings?”

  “Stay here until I send for you.” With his fingertips, Alexander brushed the tears from her face and then stood to return to the library. His wife did not deserve to suffer this pain. She had opened her heart and their home to the girls and hurt herself in the doing.


  Suzette and Maeve and Nell didn’t deserve their daughters. Someone had paid them to cause trouble. He was certain of that. Three ex-mistresses abandoning their daughters was too much of a coincidence.

  Alexander stepped into the library and nearly laughed out loud. A hostile silence pervaded the chamber. His mistresses’ dislike of each other was almost tangible.

  “Someone paid you to abandon your daughters on my doorstep,” Alexander said. “I want to know that person’s identity.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about,” Suzette said.

  “No one paid me a shilling,” Maeve insisted.

  “I went out of town unexpectedly,” Nell told him.

  Undecided about how to handle the situation, Alexander wandered across the room to stare out the window into the garden below where his daughters played in the leaves. The girls had been so happy here. Sending them off with their mothers seemed almost criminal. He needed to persuade his former lovers to let their daughters remain in residence with him.

  “I know you love your daughters,” Alexander said, turning around to find them watching him. “Victoria, my wife, loves them, too, and defied society’s rules to welcome them into her heart and our home. She even made excuses to the girls for your leaving them here. And now she’s suffering for it. Tory would never have abandoned any child of hers, no matter how much money was offered.”

  “Your wife never felt the need for money,” Suzette said. The others nodded their agreement.

  “Until two years ago, my wife lived in poverty in a small cottage on the far side of Primrose Hill,” Alexander informed them.

  “But she’s an earl’s daughter,” Maeve said.

  “A bankrupt, alcoholic earl.” He noted the uncomfortable glances the women gave each other.

  “Naturally, Victoria doesn’t want to part with the girls but understands they belong to you,” Alexander continued. “When I suggested that the girls choose where to live, she refused to put your daughters in the position of choosing between parents.”

  Alexander tipped his head toward the window. “If you look outside, you’ll see how happy they are together.”

  The three women rose from their seats and crossed the library. In silence, they watched their daughters romping in the leaves. When Aidan tripped and fell, Darcy helped her up and hugged her. Refusing to be left out, Fiona rushed across the garden and hugged her sisters. Then the three girls giggled and jumped into a pile of leaves.