The Widowed Countess

by Linda Rae Sande

The Funeral

  Clarinda donned the black satin hat and lowered the veil from its wide brim so her face was kept in shadow. Two hankies were stuffed into the pockets of her gown, and she held one in a black kid-gloved hand. Although she had thought she might like to cry all morning and most of the day before – ever since the incident with the kippers – she had held her tears at bay, deciding they were better shed at the service if at all.

  When the Norwick town coach pulled into the drive, she noticed the crest of the earldom painted on the door. She was sure it had always been there, but for some reason, it seemed especially bright, as if it had been newly repainted. And then it dawned on her that the coach was new – David had mentioned ordering it from Tillbury’s several months ago. She supposed it shouldn’t surprise her. Her husband had always taken great pride in his conveyances, buying new and different equipment about as often as he bought horses at Tattersall’s.

  Daniel bowed to her when he found her in the vestibule, offering to escort her to the coach by holding his elbow for her. He looked stunning in his black mourning clothes, the worsted wool of his swallow tail coat fitting his shoulders to perfection, a silver waistcoat barely showing above the top button of this top coat, and his impeccably cut breeches tucked into black Hessians. A black cravat, folded, wrapped and tied in a flawless mail coach knot, completed his suit of clothes. The only color displayed on his person was provided by the emerald pin in his cravat.

  Clarinda was so taken with his resemblance to David, she had to turn from his questioning gaze. Speechless, she merely allowed her brother-in-law to escort her and then hand her up into the coach, the smell of new leather filling the immaculate interior. When Daniel started to excuse himself, Clarinda gave him a questioning look. “I thought Lord Wallingham was going to escort your mother,” she said quietly.

  “I did, too, but he’s not yet arrived,” Daniel replied with cocked eyebrow, suggesting Lord Wallingham would be begging forgiveness from Dorothea Norwick before long. The dowager countess would no doubt grant it with some conditions that involved a tumble or two.

  Daniel went back to the house for his mother. He found Dorothea in the parlor and gave her a sideways glance, wondering how he might bring up the topic of Lord Wallingham in the few moments they had. If the gentleman was in Kent at the same house party as she’d been attending, then the viscount couldn’t have shot David – but that didn’t mean he hadn’t arranged for someone else to do the shooting. “Tell me, Mother. How did you find Lady MacAllister’s house party?” he wondered, hoping to keep his voice conversational. He figured once he got her going, she would divulge all the information he needed.

  Dorothea gave her son a look that suggested he’d sprouted horns and a trident tail. “Why, Daniel, I am surprised you would even be the least bit interested in what happened at a house party,” she commented as she pulled on a pair of black kid leather gloves. At his cocked eyebrow and look of disappointment, provided to show his feigned interest and offense at her comment, the dowager countess smiled. “The weather was abysmal, of course. It rained nearly every day of the five days I was there. But the company was most scintillating. And Georgette always has such diverting activities when the weather doesn’t cooperate.”

  Numerous ideas crossed Daniel’s mind as he considered what those activities might have been, but he thought he should have her clarify. Before he could do so, though, she continued. “We played whist, put on a production of one of the Bard’s comedies, had a small soirée, and we played charades – Wallingham and I were partners for that.” She flung a shawl around her shoulders, watching how it fell in the reflection from a mirror on the parlor wall.

  Both of Daniel’s eyebrow cocked up. “Really. Was the viscount there for the entire house party?” he wondered, hoping his question implied he was expected somewhere else during the week.

  Dorothea regarded him, one finger going to the side of her mouth. “Why, I believe so. I saw him everyday I was there except at luncheon on Wednesday, but that’s because most of the men went fishing. The lake at Glendale Park is stocked with the very best trout, they say,” she murmured. “So, of course, we had trout for the fish course that evening.” She paused and gave her son a quelling glance. “You seemed surprised he was there for the entire party.”

  Shrugging in an attempt to seem nonchalant, Daniel paused before responding. “I had heard David challenged him to a duel and then apparently forgot to show up. Lord Wallingham was no doubt incensed at my brother’s apparent cowardice.”

  Dorothea’s mouth dropped open in shock. “He was not! In fact, he told me he did not show up, either. He thought the entire episode a mere folly on David’s part.”

  “Did he now?” Daniel replied, his brows furrowing. What else would Wallingham say, though? It wasn’t as if he could tell Dorothea what the viscount had said about his intent to bed her.

  “Well, of course. When David’s seconds didn’t contact Wally’s seconds to confirm the details, Wally left for Kent.”

  Wally? Daniel struggled to keep his face as impassive as possible.

  “I know because we arrived at Glendale Park within moments of one another,” his mother continued, her lashes seeming to flutter as if a speck of dirt had landed in her eye. “He was ever so pleased to see me, I thought.”

  No doubt, Daniel thought as he realized Wallingham’s reason for attending the house party was probably for the sole purpose of plowing Dorothea.

  “And although I wasn’t supposed to discover the reason behind how Lady MacAllister assigned the rooms, I was quite pleased to learn Wally’s room was right next to mine. He was ever the gentlemen, seeing fit to escort me to every activity,” she claimed as she beamed happily, a pink blush suddenly suffusing her face.

  Especially the carnal ones, Daniel thought when he saw her blush. “That was very sporting of him. Did he happen to mention what caused the disagreement with David then?” he asked, offering his arm.

  Dorothea laid a hand on his arm. “It was nothing, truly,” she replied, allowing him to lead the way to the vestibule. “He merely voiced his intent to plow me,” she added with a shrug.

  Somehow, and it took a great deal of effort, Daniel managed to keep his face impassive and his feet from stumbling as he escorted his mother to the coach.

  Clarinda was beginning to wonder as to the whereabouts of Daniel and Dorothea when the two finally approached the coach. Dorothea surprised Clarinda when she appeared wearing a black silk de Naples gown and black fringed shawl.

  “Will Lord Wallingham be meeting you at St. George’s?” Clarinda asked as mother and son took the seat opposite Clarinda. From what Dorothea had said in the parlor the day before, Clarinda expected the viscount would appear that morning to take the dowager countess in his equipage. A high-perch phaeton, no doubt, probably in bright yellow or red.

  Dorothea waved a hand in the air. “I expect he’ll show up here in a few minutes. Porter knows what to tell him,” she said coyly.

  There would be no funeral reception at Norwick House – Clarinda hadn’t even considered hosting such an event – but Adele and Milton Grandby had insisted they would do so at Worthington House. That meant her afternoon would be spent hearing condolences from any number of mourners and endless anecdotes featuring David.

  “Which reminds me,” Dorothea suddenly said in a tone of voice that had Clarinda and Daniel turning their attention to her. “I’m thinking word of your condition should probably be made public today,” she claimed as she directed her gaze on Clarinda. “You’ll want to elicit as much sympathy as possible, and to be a widow with child will certainly do the trick.”

  Clarinda stared at her mother-in-law, wondering if the woman was serious. A glance in David’s direction proved he found the suggestion a bit questionable as well. When neither of them gave Dorothea a verbal response she said, “So it’s settled. We’ll just
drop the hint that your carrying a child ...”

  “Two,” both Daniel and Clarinda interrupted at the same time. Realizing she’d heard an echo of the word, she dared at a glance in Daniel’s direction. What?

  Dorothea’s eyes widened again as her gaze went from Clarinda to her son and back again. “Two?” she countered, not quite sure at first what they meant.

  “Two babies,” Clarinda said with a nod, wondering how it was that Daniel knew. She dared another glance in his direction and couldn’t help but notice he avoided making eye contact with her. Unconsciously, one of her hands moved to rest against her belly. How could Daniel know she carried twins? But, come to think of it, how could David even know? she found herself wondering. A shiver coursed through her body just then, a pleasant sensation that happened so quickly she nearly let out a gasp of surprise.

  “Twins,” Daniel put in, as if that would help his mother more easily process the information. The woman could be quite dense at times.

  There was a hint of a gasp as the dowager countess processed the information. “Twins?” Momentarily speechless, her head continued to glance back and forth between Daniel and Clarinda, as if she were watching a lawn tennis match despite there being no ball.

  It was during this momentary silence that Clarinda caught Daniel’s gaze on her, saw his brown eyes darken while his expression seemed to soften. And then, just as quickly, his eyes turned to his mother and his face hardened again. Clarinda felt something tighten inside her. She wondered if her breakfast was offended at the ride in the coach and had decided it wanted out. But a second later she realized that wasn’t it at all.

  Daring another glance in Daniel’s direction, she felt the same reaction, the same tightening deep inside, the awareness her body had of him – the man that could cause shivers of pleasure to course through her with the slightest touch, that could cause her breath to catch with a simple grin, her breath to cease with his smoldering gaze, her heart to pound if he touched his lips to hers.

  Not him, though. Not Daniel. David. David was the one who did those things to her.

  “Well, how can you even know you’re carrying twins?” Dorothea asked in a huff, as if her plan to announce Clarinda’s condition had to be revisited because expecting twins was abominable compared to expecting a single bundle of joy. Although the woman should know – she had borne a set of twins, after all. “I didn’t discover I was carrying twins until my seventh month! Good God, Clarinda. You’ll be miserable,” she added, her mouth screwing up into an expression that made it very clear she’d had a rather hard time of it and remembered the experience quite clearly.

  “Mother,” Daniel said in that low, warning tone that seemed to put Dorothea in her place for at least a few moments. “If Clare wishes the ton know she is with ... children, then she will be the one to make the announcement.”

  Suitably chastised, Dorothea nodded her head from side to side. “Very well. But you must know, it’s become quite the thing to be with child right now. I hear tell there are over a dozen ladies in your condition,” she announced, news she’d no doubt been keeping in reserve in the hopes she could convince Clarinda it was time to add her name to those of the pregnant ton. “According to Wallingham, there was a huge snowstorm at Christmastime.” She made this last comment as if the snowstorm had impregnated the dozen ladies that shared Clarinda’s affliction.

  Clarinda watched as Daniel’s brows furrowed, the little fold of skin appearing between them to show he was truly vexed by his mother’s comment. Covering her mouth to hide her amusement, Clarinda was forced to think more somber thoughts, or she would be left in tears of laughter.

  Just one day, Clarinda thought, determined not to cry as she half-listened to her mother-in-law’s continuing ramblings. And then she could begin her year of mourning. She would have to acquire a large number of books and renew her acquaintance with needle and thread. But with babies due in five months and three weeks, she would manage.

  Despite arriving more than a half-hour before the funeral service was to begin, Clarinda was surprised to find a large number of mourners outside St. George’s. The rosewood coffin containing David’s body, its polished surface gleaming in the pale morning light, lay near the entrance. Two men were draping it with a blanket of red roses. Roses had to be his favorite flower, Clarinda considered, remembering how often he had them delivered to the house. Always red. Never pink. She started to dwell on this bit when Adele and Milton Grandby stepped up. Clarinda was about to give her godfather a smile when she noted the expressions on the couple’s faces. The shock on Adele’s face was quickly masked, but Grandby didn’t bother hiding his.

  “Norwick! Damn!” Grandby cursed under his breath, his gaze squarely on Daniel as he obviously forgot he was in front of a church. “You really are Norwick’s identical twin,” he breathed.

  “Grandby,” Daniel acknowledged with a nod, his own expression showing some surprise. He angled his head toward Lady Torrington, expecting Grandby to take the hint that they should be introduced. He was fairly sure she was Lady Worthington, but he wondered if she had recently become Lady Torrington. Had the confirmed bachelor taken a wife?

  “Daniel Fitzwilliam, Lady Norwick,” Grandby added suddenly, just then noticing the dowager countess on Daniel’s other arm. “I’d like you to meet my countess, Adele Grandby,” the earl finally spoke, only doing so because Adele had shoved a rather sharp elbow into his ribs.

  “Lady Torrington,” Daniel replied, lifting her gloved hand to his lips and kissing the backs of her knuckles. “’Tis a pleasure. And a pleasant surprise to know that there is a woman on this planet brave enough to tame this beast of a man,“ he added with a twinkle. “My sympathies.”

  Clarinda’s eyes widened nearly as much as Adele’s did, although Clarinda realized why Adele still seemed so shocked. She had never met Daniel. At least, Clarinda didn’t think she had met him. Perhaps she had and merely assumed he was David. To see David’s younger brother standing next to her, looking all the world like David, had to be disconcerting. But Daniel’s comment was obviously meant to either tease the earl or compliment the countess. Perhaps both.

  “You were once Lady Worthington, weren’t you?” Dorothea wondered as she reached out to grasp hands with Adele.

  “Yes, my lady,” Adele afforded Daniel’s mother the courtesy of a deep nod. “I am very sorry for your loss, Lady Norwick. I do hope you’ll be staying in London for a time,” she murmured quietly.

  The bishop suddenly appeared in the large doorway of the church, obviously informed when the Norwick town coach pulled up and disgorged the family of the deceased. Seeing the Norwicks on the pavement in front of the church, the bishop nodded. Several pall bearers moved to lift the coffin and carry it into the sanctuary, the bishop’s tenor voice ringing out, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”

  As members of Clarinda’s party made their way up the steps and into the church, several nattily dressed men passed them, turning to frown or show expressions of surprise at the sight of Daniel. Despite his having been gone from London for most of the last four years, it was obvious many people were unaware of Daniel’s uncanny resemblance to David.

  Clarinda couldn’t help but notice that several pews in St. George’s were already occupied. Those who followed them down the center aisle peeled off and quietly took seats, the swish of silks and the rustle of taffeta and a few murmurs the only sounds in evidence.

  Daring a surreptitious glance, Clarinda could see that most in attendance were David’s fellow members of Parliament and their ladies. Some were acquaintances, like one of the lawyers from Hammond’s office, although Clarinda wasn’t sure which Hammond it was who sat in the third pew from the front. Several servants from their household were clustered together in the back, their black shawls and coats adding to the somber mood in the sanctuary. And, having been settled in place
by the pall bearers at the very front in the middle of the aisle, was David’s coffin.

  Once they reached the front pew, Grandby leaned over toward Clarinda, lifting the veil of her hat with one hand. He kissed Clarinda on the cheek. “Courage,” he whispered.

  Clarinda nodded, realizing she had managed to make it this far without shedding a tear. She doubted she would make it through the entire service dry-eyed, though.

  Dorothea, who had kept close to Adele as they made their way to the front of the church, seemed to remember Adele’s query as to how long she would stay in London. “As soon as I see my son settled into his new roles, I expect I’ll be returning to my home in Bognor,” Dorothea replied airily, careful to keep her voice low.

  Roles? Clarinda wondered after a second. She felt Daniel’s arm flinch beneath hers and realized he’d had the same reaction. She dared not say anything. Lady Norwick had made the comment expecting someone would want an explanation, though.

  The Earl of Torrington took the bait. “What roles can the new earl expect to fill besides that of earl?“ he wondered as he turned his attention to the dowager countess.

  Trapped!

  Dorothea leaned her head to one side, her lips curling up at the edges. “Uncle, husband, father, favorite son,” she spoke wistfully. “Not necessarily in that order, of course.”

  A rather stunned silence followed this comment as all eyes seemed to gaze at Daniel. Of course, not necessarily in that order, Clarinda thought, nearly rolling her eyes.

  And then she found herself wondering what order Dorothea had in mind.

  Grandby gave Clarinda a pointed glance, but he seemed to sense the growing unease first and made the motion to the move the group into their seats in the front pew.