Courting the Countess

by Donna Hatch

  Someone reported seeing Tristan earlier, but he’d left already. Richard cursed. It was so unlike his brother to hold on to a grudge. They’d always forgiven each other. Had he truly gone too far and left no room for making amends?

  Finding the reading room at White’s empty, Richard collapsed into a chair and scrubbed a hand over his face. He’d made a complete mess of everything. Now it might be too late.

  “Lord Averston.” Someone slipped into a chair next to him.

  Glancing up, he nodded at his father-in-law, the Duke of Pemberton. “Evening, Duke.”

  “What do you think of Lord Einsburgh?”

  “I’m surprised it’s taken this long for him to be accused of something.”

  Pemberton paused. “Then you are convinced of his guilt?”

  “Without a doubt. Aren’t you?” The duke’s expression was so bland that Richard took a closer look.

  “I admit the evidence is damning but it seems too neatly stacked. I think we’re accusing the wrong man.”

  Richard froze, shocked to hear such words from the duke. “What are you saying? Do you think someone is framing him?”

  “Perhaps.” Pemberton nodded. “Doesn’t it all appear too neat? Lord Einsburgh is no fool. He wouldn’t have left a way to trace all these crimes back to him.”

  “I believe he’s involved in more illegal activity than we know. Tip of the iceberg, so to speak. I have no doubt he’s guilty.”

  The duke held up a hand. “Don’t be too hasty. I urge you to reconsider. After all, we’re considering the fate of a marquis. We would do well to err on the side of caution.”

  Richard stared. “He is involved in illegal activity.”

  “Perhaps. Perhaps not. There’s no way to know for sure. Even if he is, who is he hurting, really?” Pemberton’s tone reached a feverish pitch and Richard glanced around to reassure himself that they were alone.

  For a moment, Richard could find no words around his shock. “Are you telling me I should vote for his innocence even though I’m convinced of his guilt?”

  An almost fanatical light entered the duke’s eyes. “The consequences are bigger than you may suspect.”

  “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you.”

  The duke stood. “He’s innocent, and I hope you, as my son-in-law, will follow my lead in the vote tomorrow.” He wrenched open the door and strode away.

  Richard stared after the duke’s retreating back but could find no explanation for his sudden conviction. A few days ago, the duke had expressed an opposite viewpoint. Odd that he would so passionately plead this new and suddenly different position.

  With a mental shrug, Richard turned his thoughts to another path. Tomorrow, they would vote. Then he would be free to turn his attention to salvaging his relationship with his brother and search for a way to reach Elizabeth and earn her trust. Maybe someday, he would earn her love.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  With her heart pounding, Elizabeth folded her hands together as she stood in the library and waited for Cooper to give her his news.

  Cooper shook his head. “Got good news and bad news. Th’ good is, I figured out who it was what stole yer rubies and the jewels at th’ ball.”

  “You did?”

  “’e’d been avoidin’ me ever since that ball. I forced a confession from ’im. ’E said ’e pawned yer rubies. I went t’ th’ shop where ’e said ’e took ’em but some lord bought th’ rubies. That’s the bad news. I don’ think we’ll never get ’em back.”

  Elizabeth closed her eyes to hold back the tears. She’d failed Richard!

  “I’m sorry, m’lady.”

  “Who was the thief?”

  “One o’ th’ footmen.”

  “Reformed?”

  “No, one of the new staff Mrs. Brown hired.”

  A childish victory rose up inside Elizabeth that one of Mrs. Brown’s servants—and not the reformed staff—had been the cause.

  “I found out ’e works for Mr. Black.”

  She opened her eyes. “Mr. Black? The scoundrel who runs a theft operation?”

  “The same.”

  “You did very well, Cooper.”

  “Wish I coulda got yer rubies back.”

  “I do, too. Well, never mind, that can’t be helped.”

  Reformed thieves were one thing, but a current thief who struck again and again was something else entirely. “Send for the nearest constable, and when he arrives, bring the footman to me.”

  Cooper nodded. Elizabeth braced herself for the unpleasantness.

  An hour later, she’d glared at the footman until he confessed, and turned him over to the constable who hauled him off to face justice. Afterward, she sat thinking about her next battle.

  Richard already asked about the rubies. She must confide in him. At least, she could tell him now that she knew the thief’s identity. She didn’t fear his anger; he wouldn’t hurt her, but he might still view her as ungrateful for having been so careless as to leave them laying around. Richard was already hurting because of the silence between him and his brother. She had to do something to ease his pain. Perhaps if he and Tristan reconciled, the blow of losing the rubies would be less painful.

  She scribbled a message and handed it to Cooper. “Please see that this is delivered immediately. If his valet tells you he’s sleeping, insist upon waking him.”

  He touched his forelock. “Yes, m’lady.”

  Elizabeth changed into a riding habit and ordered her horse be ready. She paced until the footman returned.

  Grinning, Cooper handed her a letter. “For ye, m’lady.”

  She smiled. “Thank you. Mr. Cooper, it’s considered impertinent to grin at your employer. Here in London, propriety is more important than in the country.”

  “Ah. O’course. Miz Goodfellow warned me ’bout tha’ un. Don’t know why. Everywhere else, it’s al’righ’ t’ smile a’ folks.”

  “I don’t mind, but others might.” To soften the reprimand, she changed the subject. “Did you wear that old suit of Lord Averston’s I gave you to court your girl?”

  “Miss Jeannie.” A smile spread over his face. “Aye. I never had nuthin’ so fine. An’ Miss Jeannie, she liked it.”

  “I’m sure you looked quite the thing.”

  He nodded, then seemed to remember his role as a servant and ducked out of the room.

  Unfolding the note, she read

  Meet me at Hyde Park just north of Rotten Row at ten o’clock today.

  Your servant,

  Tristan

  Tristan had signed it with a flourish, as flamboyant in his handwriting as he was in his flirting.

  “See that my horse is saddled, Cooper,” she called. “I’m going for a ride to Hyde Park.”

  He reappeared. “I’ll go with you, my lady, to insure your protection.”

  She smiled. It was rather sweet, actually, to be fussed over. “As you wish.”

  Dressed in her riding habit and boots, Elizabeth rode to Hyde Park while Cooper and a groom named March rode behind her. To give herself time to enjoy a ride, she arrived before her appointed meeting time with Tristan. She cantered down the path, ignoring other equestrians around her and breathing the cool morning air. After a brisk canter, she slowed her mount to a walk, moving leisurely in the direction of the location where Tristan had agreed to meet her.

  A beautiful black Andalusian trotted toward her. The rider raised his hand in greeting and Tristan’s smile flashed as he reached her. He rode as beautifully as he did everything, cutting a dash everywhere he went. Yet, his face was not nearly as dear as Richard’s.

  Cooper and March melted back into the scenery to provide her some privacy with Tristan.

  “Well met, sister-in-law,” he called. “I hope you have a very good reason for dragging me out of bed at this unholy hour of the day.” His lopsided smile and red-rimmed eyes bore testament to his late night.

  “I hope you weren’t too indisposed to arise from your bed,” she chid
ed.

  “Dreadfully. Fortunately, my overpaid valet proved his worth today with one of his famous concoctions to wake the dead, as it were.”

  “Difficult night?” she asked in mock sweetness.

  “Horrid. I won four hundred pounds and spent the remainder of the evening in celebration.” With the same grin that had stolen her heart—was it only a few months ago?—he dismounted with all the grace of a practiced rider. As his hands closed around her waist to help her dismount, she looked into his face, so like Richard’s and yet, not nearly so beloved. His touch failed to evoke even a flicker of desire.

  She went still inside, stunned by the realization that her infatuation for Tristan had ended.

  Her feelings for Richard were so much stronger than any tendré she’d ever nurtured for his brother. Was it love?

  Tristan released her and stepped back, gesturing to a bench. “Shall we?”

  They tied up their horses and sat together. A cool breeze stirred the leaves, and songbirds flitted in the branches.

  Elizabeth waited until a pair of riders rode past before speaking. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

  “How may I be of service?”

  “It’s about Richard.” She toyed with her riding crop.

  His eyes narrowed. “Is he making you unhappy?” No sign of teasing revealed itself in his expression, only concern and a suggestion that he’d happily rise to her defense. Such gallantry must be in the Barrett blood.

  She shook her head. “No, that’s not it at all. Richard misses you and he regrets throwing you out.”

  “Yes, well, I regret that as well.” Tristan stared out over the landscape. “In truth, he’s never turned on me like that. We’ve had our differences, but he’s always been there for me. He wouldn’t have done that if not for you.” His dark eyes took on a faraway look. “He must love you a great deal to be so hurt and jealous by what he thought he saw.”

  Elizabeth hoped Richard’s jealousy sprang from affection and not just possessiveness or a desire to avoid scandal.

  Tristan’s smile turned soft. All signs of the dangerous seducer vanished, and in that moment, she saw him as she’d seen him during the house party, a thoughtful man who was deeper than he appeared.

  Boldly, she asked, “Was I really just another flirtation?”

  He paused. “At first, you were a challenge—trying to get you to talk to me, smile at me. Then I felt a…connection with you. I truly liked you.”

  She looked away, afraid of what she might find in his eyes. “Your behavior did not indicate you respected me.”

  “No, my behavior was, indeed, untoward. I apologize for misusing you. I was acting instinctively, and selfishly, when I should have been more concerned with both your feelings and your reputation.”

  He’d already apologized the morning after their garden encounter at the Einsburgh’s house party, but hearing it again had a healing quality. She offered him a smile. “Perhaps it worked out as it should.”

  He leaned back. “You are much better suited for Richard. I’m not ready to settle down. Maybe I’ll find someone like you someday…in twenty or thirty years.” Again came that slightly lopsided quirk of the mouth.

  As her thoughts tumbled, she stared out over the park, idly noticing others who rode or walked. “You need to make amends with him, Tristan. He loves you well. This animosity between you hurts him. Hurts you both.”

  Tristan looked away, but not before she caught the look of pain in his eyes. “What would you have me do? When he threw me out, he forbade me from entering Averston House.”

  “He said you didn’t reply to his message, and he was turned away when he came to your apartment.”

  Tristan paused. “I wasn’t ready to see him just yet. I feared I’d say something I’d later regret. It won’t hurt him to writhe a little.”

  “Tristan, please, don’t let him leave London without making amends. He’s your brother. You need each other.”

  Wearing a pensive expression, Tristan nodded. “He’s all I have. At least he has you.” His mouth twitched into a rueful smile. “He does care about you, you know. He might be too stubborn—or afraid—to admit it, but he does.”

  She toyed with the fingers of her gloves, wishing it were true. “Talk to him.”

  “Very well. I’ll reply to his message and agree to listen to what he has to say.”

  “He’s a proud man. Don’t make him grovel.”

  He leveled a surprisingly intense stare upon her. “He isn’t the only one in the family with pride. Farewell, sister-in-law.” He mounted and rode away.

  Elizabeth remained on the bench for several moments, enjoying the birdsong and the whisper of the trees. Even the usual crowd that frequented the park was absent, or at least at a distance for the moment, leaving her in peaceful solitude. After breathing in the scent of flowers, she gathered her skirts and moved to a rock she could use as a mounting block.

  A figure approached from the side. Before she recognized any danger, a man grabbed her by the shoulders.

  Fear shot icy fragments through her body. She screamed and hit him with her riding crop. Swearing, he wrenched her riding crop out of her hand and raised it to strike her. Terror swept over her.

  Cooper appeared, sailing through the air. He knocked her attacker to the ground. They landed heavily, grappling and punching each other.

  March pulled her out of the shock that had frozen her in place. “Onto your horse now, my lady.”

  The groom boosted her up and glanced back at the fray, but Cooper had already subdued Elizabeth’s attacker. The man lay unconscious on the ground. Cooper stood and spun around, searching the area for further signs of danger. When he found none, he took off his belt and bound the attacker’s hands.

  Cooper looked at Elizabeth. “Ye all righ’ m’lady?”

  She nodded, clutching the reins with trembling hands. A couple from a distance stood watching as if uncertain what, if any, action they should take. She tried to smile and waved to let them know she didn’t require their aid. Her hands shook and her knees knocked together.

  Cooper spoke again. “Bow Street will want to take a statement from you.”

  Mute with the fear over what had happened, she nodded again. “Wh-who… Why?”

  Her loyal servants exchanged glances. “Could be jest a thug, but I thin’ ’e’s one o’ Mr. Black’s men,” Cooper said finally.

  “What would he want with me?”

  “I ’ope we nev’r find out. Tell th’ staff you’re in danger. Don’t let anyone in the ’ouse.”

  “Could be just a random attack,” said March.

  “Could be.” Cooper nodded, clearly unconvinced. “Take ’er home and don’ stop fer nothin’. I’m taking him in to the magistrate.” He toed the unconscious assailant. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”

  Elizabeth rode home with March keeping a careful watch over her. Richard hadn’t arrived home yet. After a hot bath and a cup of tea, Elizabeth’s shaking stopped but she longed for a comforting embrace. She longed for Richard.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  By the time Richard returned home, Elizabeth had gained control over her emotions. Though she longed to unburden herself regarding the attack, Richard seemed more tense than normal and she didn’t dare tell him she’d been to the park to see Tristan nor about the attack, so she kept her peace.

  After dinner, they sat together in the study, she attempting to read silently, and he writing a letter. Silence settled heavily between them. Richard fairly bristled with tension.

  He finally laid down his pen. His voice was quiet, controlled, but tension underlined every word. “I owe you an apology. I have not been approachable. For that I’m sorry.” He paused and his mouth worked as if he could not form the words in his mind. “You can tell me anything. Please don’t keep secrets.”

  Secrets? Oh, heavens, had he seen her with Tristan and jumped to the wrong conclusion again? He stared at her for so long that she wanted to squirm. Fighting the
urge to ask if he knew she’d sought out Tristan, she waited. Perspiration trickled down between her shoulders.

  “I…” He drummed his fingers on the desk, and started again. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

  She swallowed. How would she tell him without it sounding as if she and Tristan had met at the park to have a tryst?

  Even more softly, he added, “About the ruby necklace?”

  The necklace. Another confession she’d have to make, but hopefully not as serious as if he suspected her of disloyalty with Tristan. “The rubies?” Her voice squeaked and she had to swallow, suddenly terrified he’d fly into a rage. Steadying herself, she forced calm into her voice, determined not to reveal her fear. Such weakness had only ever earned her a more severe punishment from Duchess.

  He waited patiently.

  She forged ahead, and come what may, but at least she’d have a clear conscience. Her words came out in a breathless stream. “I…lost the necklace. I put it in a case on my dressing table and I lost it…or at first I thought I had, but my maid and I searched everywhere, and it was nowhere to be found and I thought it might have been stolen, so I asked Cooper to help me and he found out it was a footman Mrs. Brown hired before we were married and that he sold it to a pawnshop. I’m sorry.” She tried, unsuccessfully, to swallow the lump in her throat. “I should have told you but I kept hoping I could recover it. It was only this morning that Cooper traced it to the pawnshop, and learned it had been purchased so I couldn’t go and buy it back. It’s gone. I’m so sorry.” She lost her control and a sob forced its way out of her. She withdrew a handkerchief and blew her nose. She snuck a peek at Richard, but he didn’t look angry.

  Pain mirrored in his eyes. “I see.” He looked down with his shoulders slumped, as forlorn as a rejected child. She’d hurt him. Oh, merciful heavens, that was worse than a beating.

  “Where is the footman now?” he asked.

  “After he confessed, I turned him over to the law.” Utterly wretched, Elizabeth tried to pull herself together but tears continued to leak from her eyes. “I’m sorry, Richard. I know the gift wasn’t only an heirloom but a traditional gift from husband to wife. And I lost it. I should have told you sooner but I couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing you. I kept hoping we’d recover it.” She wiped her cheeks with her handkerchief and blew her nose.