The Widowed Countess

by Linda Rae Sande

  “God in heaven,” Daniel breathed as he backed away from this twin brother.

  “I couldn’t tell you if He is or He isn’t,” David murmured with a shrug. “As you can see, I haven’t made it there yet,” he added, uncrossing his arms and walking toward Daniel as if he intended to join him in the bedchamber. “How was your trip?”

  Staring at his brother as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, Daniel shook his head.

  “That bad?” David offered, his hands moving to clasp together behind his back. “You made it here in record time. I was going to visit you at your apartments, but I thought you should get a good night’s sleep before I ... paid a call,” he added uncertainly. Perhaps it was nervousness that made him shift his weight from one leg to the other.

  “How thoughtful of you,” Daniel managed to get out before he gave his head a quick shake and turned away from what he had decided was a figment of his imagination.

  David’s chuckle filled the room. “I don’t think you’ve ever accused me of being thoughtful before,” he said with a wide grin.

  Turning to face David again, Daniel regarded his smiling brother. “Aren’t you supposed to be ... dead?” he managed to get out, his impassive expression threatening to be replaced with something darker, as if he thought he was the brunt of a rather cruel joke.

  “I am dead,” David countered, the grin disappearing. “I’m just not ... gone yet,” he added in a quieter voice. “Before I go, there are two things I need to be sure are ... sorted first.”

  Daniel regarded his brother for a long moment, his brows furrowing. Still not believing what, nay, who he was seeing, he took a deep breath and decided to simply listen to what his brother had to say. He’d challenge the jokester to a duel with pistols at dawn if it turned out his brother was really alive and well – and still the Earl of Norwick. “Go on,” Daniel encouraged. He turned his attention to the dressers, where he knew several small boxes held cravat pins, rings and other jewelry passed down from their father. Hearing David’s audible sigh, he couldn’t help but glance back in his brother’s direction. “What is it?”

  David shrugged, a mannerism matching his own so closely Daniel wondered if he was merely seeing himself in a mirror. Then he glanced down at what he wore and realized David’s attire was entirely different.

  “It’s about Clare.”

  The mention of the love of his life had Daniel ignoring the box of cravat pins and giving his full attention to his twin brother. “And what about Clare?” he asked with a noticeable degree of concern.

  “She’s fine,” David replied quickly, as if he could tell his brother had jumped to the wrong conclusion. “She’s better than fine, in fact. She’s ... expecting!” he blurted out, his smile displaying his perfect teeth. He poked Daniel in the arm as he made the claim.

  A sense of shock settled over Daniel, caused his eyes to glaze over and his heart to stop for a moment. Clarinda. With child. With his brother’s child. “Congratulations,” he managed to get out. “You must be very proud.” It took a good deal of effort, but he managed to make it sound as if he was happy.

  The late brother didn’t seem to notice Daniel’s effort, but his own enthusiasm waned just a bit. “She lost the last two babies she was expecting,” he said quietly, a good deal of sadness sounding in his simple words.

  Daniel’s heart clenched at his brother’s comment. “She was with child before?” he whispered, a sudden need to go to her nearly sending him through the connecting door in the dressing room. The poor woman!

  Nodding, David reached out and touched Daniel’s sleeve. “She was devastated. I didn’t even find out about the second miscarriage until .. well, until just a couple of days ago. It’s amazing what you find out when you die,“ he added with that familiar shrug.

  Daniel’s gasp was audible. “Two miscarriages?” he managed to get out in a hoarse whisper. Christ! Why hadn’t he known? Why hadn’t someone told him? He turned on his heel and headed for the dressing room door, determined to go to Clarinda, to pull her into his arms and hold her, comfort her, tell her everything would be alright. The loss of one babe was sad enough, but two? She must have been so heartbroken. His hand reached for the door knob, but David’s hand covered it before he could turn it.

  “Those miscarriages happened a couple of years ago, Danny.”

  Daniel stepped back, his look of annoyance falling on his older twin. “If she’s suffered the loss of a babe in the past, what makes you believe she’ll carry this one to birth?” he asked, his chin shoved out in defiance. Had it been he who Clarinda married instead of his rake of a brother, he was sure she would have carried a babe to full term and given birth to a healthy heir.

  David waved a hand in the air, as if there was no reason to be concerned. ”She’s past the point where she miscarried the last two times ... she’s almost four months gone,” he said softly. He poked Daniel in the shoulder. “With twins,” he added proudly. He poked Daniel once more to make his point.

  Daniel blinked. Twice. “Good grief, Davy,” he managed to get out. “Does she know?”

  This last seemed to catch his older brother off guard. “Well, she knows she’s expecting, of course. But ... I haven’t told her the rest. Yet.”

  Raising a hand to the side of his head, Daniel wondered if he felt a headache coming on. His stomach growled just then, a sound that even David heard from where he stood. “So, what? You’re just going to show up, dead, and just tell her she’s having twins?” Daniel asked, his mouth left open by the thought. “The sight of you alone is going to be enough of a shock to cause a miscarriage!”

  David regarded his younger twin for a moment before he hung his head. “Not if I do it in the middle of the night. When she’s asleep. She’ll just think it’s a dream ...”

  “Nightmare, more like it,” Daniel countered.

  “... And when she wakes up, she’ll remember everything I tell her.” David crossed his arms in front of his chest again, apparently satisfied with himself. “I’ve already done it. Twice,” he added, an eyebrow wiggling to indicate his mischievousness.

  Daniel shook his head as he regarded David. “When you showed up, you implied you had to get something sorted before you left for good. What were you talking about?”

  Rolling his eyes, as if he’d completely forgotten why he’d shown up in his old bedchamber, David nodded. “I want you to marry Clare,” he stated quite firmly. “The sooner, the better.” His lips pressed together in a line, as if he was asking his brother to grant a huge favor and doubted he would accommodate him.

  Daniel blinked and shook his head, not quite sure he’d heard his brother correctly. “You want me to marry Clare?” he repeated. What the hell? “She can’t. She’s in mourning. For a year, if she follows custom,” he replied in disbelief.

  “But you want to,” David answered, as if he’d heard his brother’s reasoning and agreed.

  Shocked by David’s insight, Daniel stared at him for several moments. Of course, he wanted to marry Clarinda! He’d wanted to kiss her the first time he laid eyes on her. He’d wanted to dance with her the very first time they attended the same ball. He wanted to marry her even before David had met her. Wanted her in his bed, wanted her in his life, wanted her in every way a man could want a woman. And despite having courted her and kissed her and asked for her hand in marriage, she still ended up married to his brother.

  The bitterness of that time came back to haunt him just then, the anger and disbelief filling him as it had four years ago. “Of course, I want her. I never stopped wanting her, damn it!” he got out between gritted teeth. “But she despises me, David. She probably hates me.”

  David smiled, a huge smile that split his face and made him look years younger than his almost four decades. “Thank you, Danny,” he said as he wrapped his arms around Daniel’s shoulders and hugg
ed his brother to him. “I knew I could count on you. Take care of her, will you?” he said in a quieter voice. “I beg you.”

  Stunned at his brother’s response, Daniel nodded as he felt David’s arms fall away. He couldn’t remember a time they had embraced like that, other than when they were fighting. Or wrestling.

  David wanted him to marry Clare. Wanted him to take care of her. “I will,” he stated with a nod. “Of course, I will.” He sighed, remembering his brother’s earlier words. “Now, what was the second thing you wanted ..?” When he looked up, David was gone.

  Chapter 8

  Daniel and Clarinda Get Reacquainted

  “You cannot go to breakfast dressed like that, my lady,” Missy announced just as the perfectly coiffed Clarinda was about to open her bedchamber door. Wondering what Missy meant by the proclamation, Lady Norwick looked down and realized she only wore her chemise and corset under a silk dressing gown. A black kerseymere gown was spread out on the bed. Black silk stockings dribbled over the edge of the mattress, and a pair of black slippers were on the floor beneath. Black would be the extent of her wardrobe for a long time to come, she realized.

  “Oh,” Clarinda managed to get out before her shoulders slumped. Good grief! Had she really almost left her bedchamber wearing nothing more than a dressing grown? Well, so what if she had? No one would even notice what she was wearing given the elaborate hair style Missy had managed to create!

  She thought of Adele Grandby and decided she could do with a walk in the park. When she finished her breakfast, she would send a footman with a note asking if Adele could meet her at their usual spot in Hyde Park.

  Once Missy had her dressed, Clarinda once again announced she had every intention of eating and then made her way downstairs to the breakfast room. Moving through the doorway, she smelled the kippers long before she realized they were on the sideboard.

  And on the plate in front of Daniel Fitzwilliam.

  Her stomach suddenly roiling, Clarinda gasped and hurried through the room, passing her startled brother-in-law and holding a hand against her belly as she mumbled an, “Excuse me,” and disappeared into the butler’s pantry. She found a chamber pot underneath the silver cabinet just in time. Well, it wasn’t really a chamber pot, she realized too late. The rather large and elaborately decorated soup tureen worked just as well, though.

  “My lady! Are you alright?”

  Clarinda whirled around to find Rosie, one of the main floor servants, carrying a stack of dishes through the butler’s pantry. The sudden motion did little to settle her stomach, but at least the smell of fish didn’t reach her here. “I’ll be quite fine, thank you,” Clarinda answered as she finished wiping her lips with her hanky.

  But Rosie’s eyes widened. “My lady! You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

  Gasping, Clarinda’s own eyes widened. Damnation! Was it that apparent she’d been visited by David? she wondered as she straightened and put one hand up to her face. “Oh?” she ventured as calmly as she could manage, wondering what gave it away.

  “You’re quite pale, my lady,” Rosie said as she put down the dishes. “Should I have Porter send for the physician?”

  Swallowing hard, Clarinda considered the offer. There really was no need to have Dr. Collins come over when she already knew why she felt sick. All he would do is confirm her state of impending motherhood and probably attach a few leeches to her. She shuddered at the image of the slimy things on her skin, deciding the thought alone made her sicker than the smell of kippers in the next room. “No, Rosie, that won’t be necessary,” she managed to get out before she inhaled a deep, cleansing breath. “I’m feeling better already, although I do think I’ll just make my way back to the hallway using a different route,” she said as she left the butler’s pantry from the direction the maid had come.

  “Yes, my lady,” Rosie reluctantly replied as she bobbed a curtsy. “May I say, my lady, your hair looks very nice today.”

  Clarinda fought the urge to look up. “Thank you, Rosie.” Once again very hungry, Clarinda wanted nothing more than to have breakfast, but the thought of going back into the breakfast parlor was rather unappetizing. Not only did it smell like kippers, but Daniel was in there. She thought he’d been reading The Times – at least, he’d been holding up a newspaper as he ate, she remembered – so perhaps he hadn’t even noticed her quick trip through the room. To him, she probably just looked like a black whirling dervish, although she was sure her skirts created a breeze that probably ruffled his dark, silky, wavy hair. She was quite sure he hadn’t taken his attention away from the newspaper, though. But from the very brief glimpse she’d had of him, he was still the epitome of David in appearance. So handsome, so fit, so very much a man.

  “So the mere sight of me makes you ill, does it?”

  Clarinda had just come around the corner from the servant’s hall into the main hall, nearly colliding with Daniel as she did so. As tall as David and just as developed across the shoulders and chest, he made for an imposing figure. And, at the moment, a rather frightening one.

  “Daniel!” she gasped, stopping suddenly, one hand pressed to her bosom. After another loud heartbeat, she took another breath. “No,” she added with a shake of her head when she realized what he’d said. She could feel ... was that anger emanating from his body? “I just cannot bear the odor of...”

  “Oh, so now I smell bad?” he countered, his eye blazing with barely contained fury.

  Taking an involuntary step backward, Clarinda dropped her hands to her sides, allowing her fists to clench. “You don’t. Truly. But the kippers do,” she managed to get out in a voice that belied the sudden embarrassment that colored her face.

  There was a very long pause as the two regarded one another. Clarinda’s hands unclenched and Daniel’s stance seem to relax just a bit.

  “Kippers?” he replied, one eyebrow cocking into an expression that suggested disbelief.

  “Kippers, yes,” Clarinda acknowledged with a nod, her face still red with embarrassment. Of all the things to happen when she was faced with the prospect of seeing Daniel for the first time in nearly two years, she never would have expected to feel nauseous and have to cast up her accounts, especially in front of a servant.

  Daniel blinked, a mannerism Clarinda found very similar to the way David would sometimes react when she said something that befuddled him. Which, now that she thought about it, was quite frequently.

  “Not because you find the sight of me somehow ... repugnant?” This last was delivered in a voice that suggested Daniel Fitzwilliam still didn’t believe her.

  It was Clarinda’s turn to blink. “No! Of course not,” she replied with a bit too much emphasis.

  Daniel seemed to take a step backward, even though his feet did not move an inch. “You do not find the sight of me to be ... repugnant?”

  Clarinda’s mouth opened in astonishment. How can this man be so thick? she wondered, fighting to keep her annoyance from showing on her face. She took a deep breath as she gazed at David’s identical twin, looking for any sign of something that was different from her late husband. “Since you look exactly like the man I married, and since I found that man to be quite handsome, I have to admit I could never find the sight of you repugnant,” she said in a careful, measured tone, thoroughly explaining her reasoning in the hopes her brother-in-law would understand. Then she found herself hoping she wasn’t going to have to deal with Daniel’s newly inflated ego, which had probably grown several times larger given her adamant assurance that he was handsome.

  Damnation, though. He was handsome. There were a few differences between him and David, she now was coming to realize, although none of them were differences a casual acquaintance would notice. The little scar near his eye, the one he’d suffered at the point of a bayonet during one of the wars in France, gave him a rakish air. And given his
hair was just a shade darker and held just a bit more wave than David’s did – probably because David spent more time out of doors – she would have to admit that Daniel was just a bit more handsome than David. Damn, damn, double damn! she thought, not able to tear her eyes away from David’s twin.

  Daniel’s mouth began opening and then closing, over and over, as if he was about to say something and then suddenly thought better of it. Clarinda thought he looked somewhat like the tropical fish Lord Everly kept in the large glass tank in his library. “But ... I thought you ... despised me,” he finally managed to get out.

  Clarinda’s brows furrowed, a little wrinkle developing between them. “Only because ... because you despise me,” she countered, rather surprised he would voice the sentiment and she would bother to reply.

  “I do not!” Daniel exclaimed, his protest a bit too loud. He reached out with a finger and poked her right between her brows, as if he was curious about the little wrinkle that had appeared there and thought he could simply press it away with a push of his fingertip. Pulling his finger away, he stared at the spot, mesmerized. “You really need to stop doing whatever it is that creates that little ...” He pointed at the fold between her brows using the same finger he’d poked her with before, adding, “Or you’ll find it will be permanent,” he stated with a finality that suggested he was an expert on such abnormalities. “At least, that’s what Mother is always telling me about mine.”

  The feel of his finger touching her sent a shock wave through Clarinda. She might have found it rather pleasant, except something akin to a volcano had began to build deep inside of her, with its molten lava heat and steam churning and rumbling. Although the rumbling was probably due to her hunger pangs, Clarinda realized the rest – the suppressed anger and outrage over his impertinent comment, the sudden desire to see him uncomfortable, to see him suffer for poking her – was about to erupt all over Daniel Fitzwilliam. Pity the man who witnesses a volcanic eruption in the home he is expected to occupy for the next several years, Clarinda found herself thinking, knowing just then she would have to gain the upper hand on this poor excuse for a man right now.