Captain and Countess

by Alice Gaines

  He did. Passion. The sort of drunkenness he’d told her of. He’d wanted women before and had had his share. None of them could reach down into him and pull as powerful a response as this one could.

  “It won’t happen again,” he said.

  “I won’t go walking with you, no matter how hard my friends push us together,” she said.

  “Do you think they’ve noticed . . .” He let his voice trail off before he said the obvious—the fact that he turned into a male animal every time he got around this woman. Had they observed his reaction to her the night before? On the other hand, how could they have missed his attentiveness to her bosom? Thomas had noticed, and he seldom saw anything past the theories that constantly absorbed him. “I wouldn’t want them to think, that . . . um . . .”

  “They have silly romantic notions, especially Rose. They’d match me with any man who came through the doors at Carlton House. Even Mr. Montgomery.”

  “Dear Lord.”

  “Well, maybe not him.”

  “Thank heaven for that,” he said. “Still, I hope I haven’t given them the wrong impression of my intentions.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll manage their impressions.”

  “I’d best take you back, then.”

  “I’ll go alone for now,” she said. “The less they see us together, the better.”

  “Thank you.” Just as well. He needed to regain control of his body, or the other women would get some very vivid impressions of his intentions, indeed. So as she turned and headed back down the path, he gazed out over the water and took deep breaths.

  Chapter Nine

  Jason made sure Mrs. Oxley sat as far away as possible from his brother at dinner and hoped for the best. Lily did more than her part in keeping the conversation light and non-scientific. She looked positively radiant this evening, wearing a new dress of deep green that brought out the color of her eyes. Her complexion fairly glowed. Seeing her childhood friend, now elevated to the dukedom, made her even more vivacious than usual, and everyone at the table seemed taken with her charm. Jason might not have done too many things well lately, but he’d scored a triumph in bringing Mrs. Oxley and Will to their party.

  “I hope you had a pleasant journey here, Mrs. Oxley,” Lily said.

  “The roads in this district need improvement,” Mrs. Oxley said. “I was jostled horribly most of the way here.”

  “I’m sorry for your discomfort,” Lily said. “But you must admit that the scenery around Hollyfield is lovely.”

  “Quite extraordinary,” the young duke said. He turned a bright pink and then looked down into his plate. The poor fellow had better become accustomed to his high social rank and stop blushing every time he drew attention to himself.

  “The scenery is far superior in Latimore and the roads less bumpy,” Mrs. Oxley said. “We’ve been there to inspect William’s properties and found everything superior in every way.”

  “We’ll do our best to make up for your discomfort while you’re here,” Jason said.

  “Certainly,” Lily said. “There’s so much of interest in the area.”

  “My, yes.” Miss Swan came to life next to Jason. “We’ve visited the village and seen the stone circle. There are ruins of an ancient abbey nearby.”

  “Vernon Abbey. Fascinating place,” Thomas tossed in from the opposite end of the table. “History suggests that religious persecutions were carried out there. Under one of the Tudors or earlier.”

  “Jason’s guests don’t want to hear about that,” Grace said softly.

  “The favored method of execution was by fire, but they were quite inventive with torture before they sent the poor blighters off to their heavenly rewards,” Thomas continued, seemingly oblivious to the lack of response from the rest of the party. Mrs. Oxley fairly grimaced, and Grace cleared her throat loudly.

  “I believe if we investigate, we may find the remains of an abattoir,” Thomas declared.

  “Yes, well,” Peter said. “There’s hunting and fishing on the next property over.”

  Jason took a drink of his wine. The less he said, thought, or remembered about Carlton House, the better.

  “Fishing,” Mrs. Oxley replied. “I hardly care to have anything to do with fish other than eating it.”

  “Will might like to fish.” Lily placed her hand on Will’s, making the young man’s skin color even deeper. His mother merely lifted an eyebrow.

  Lily made the gesture without artifice. After all, the two of them had played together since the duke had been in short pants. Still, the fact that she’d touched him signaled an intimacy young men and women seldom showed before engagement. Jason should talk to her about it. On the other hand, he could leave things alone to take their own course. If Mrs. Oxley didn’t work too strenuously to keep them apart, they might make an announcement soon.

  “I’m sure the gentlemen would enjoy a good hunt,” Peter said. “What say you, Simpson?”

  “Certainly,” the man seated across from Peter answered. “Swan and I have made a wager already on who can shoot the most grouse.”

  “The local birds are in grave danger, I’m sure,” Peter said. “And Jason’s a good shot, too.”

  “I’m sure you must be,” Miss Swan remarked.

  “Excellent exercise, hunting,” Thomas piped in from the other end of the table. “All the tromping about works the body’s electrical circuits.”

  “Electricity?” Swan said. “Balderdash, if you ask me.”

  “Not so. I’ve done my own experiments. You see, if you take a lump of muscle tissue—” Thomas tore the leg off his roasted pigeon and held it up. “—like this, for example.”

  Jason glared at his brother as best he could across the distance. “Let’s not.”

  “But it’s simple,” Thomas went on. “Hook this up to a battery like the ones Franklin manufactured.”

  “Franklin?” Simpson said. “The so-called revolutionary?”

  “And scientist. Remarkable fellow,” Thomas said. “Muscle given an electrical charge will twitch. I’ve demonstrated it myself.”

  Mrs. Oxley fanned herself with her napkin. “Dear heaven.”

  Dear heaven, indeed. Thomas often lost himself in his enthusiasms at awkward times, but he seldom used his food to illustrate his points.

  “This won’t do it, of course,” Thomas went on. “But if it were raw—”

  “I never,” Mrs. Oxley said under her breath.

  Jason rose and went to his brother. Before Thomas could expound any more of his theories, Jason took the meat and Thomas’s plate and handed them both to a footman. “Let’s move on to the main course, shall we?”

  “You should really keep your science in your laboratory,” Grace said softly.

  “That’s at Hadleigh. We’re here,” Thomas said with a distinctly plaintive note to his voice. Jason refrained from reminding his brother he could have remained at Hadleigh.

  When Jason resumed his own seat, Mrs. Oxley leaned toward him. “He has a laboratory?”

  “A small one. Insignificant. More like a library,” he answered.

  The woman didn’t seem convinced, and studied his brother across the length of the table as though he might do something outrageous at any moment.

  “So, then,” Lily said to her friend the duke. “Would you like to go hunting?”

  “I would if you will.”

  “Hunt?” Miss Swan raised her hand to her throat. “Do you hunt, Miss Northcross?”

  “No,” Jason answered.

  “I’m able to speak for myself,” Lily said.

  She didn’t hunt, did she? Surely, the teachers at the school where they’d sent her hadn’t taught her how to do something so unladylike. Or if they had, they’d given her the good sense not to admit it in mixed society.

  “Well, do you?” Mrs. Oxley demanded.

  “No. But I would if I wanted to,” Lily answered.

  “Young ladies didn’t hunt in my day,” Mrs. Oxley said. “Nor did they speak so ab
ruptly to their elders.”

  “Lily didn’t mean—” Jason tried.

  “I’m sorry if I sounded abrupt with you, Mrs. Oxley,” Lily said. “I didn’t mean to offend. I only wanted to make his grace feel welcome to join in the hunt if he wishes.”

  The duke in question gave Lily a small smile. “I prefer fishing.”

  “There you are then,” Jason proclaimed. “We’ll hunt and fish and people may choose whichever they want.”

  Of course, all hunting and fishing would take place on Lady Rushford’s property. He could ask her permission in a note and then make sure he was constantly surrounded by other people every minute he spent on her lands.

  Mrs. Oxley leaned toward him. “I should take your sister in hand, if I were you, Captain Northcross. She’s pleasing to look at and quick of wit, but she’ll never get a husband if she shows such a headstrong nature.”

  Meaning she’d never marry Will. It seemed he had a problem in that regard with both of his siblings. Lily’s outspokenness and Thomas’s scientific theories. Of course, he’d never do anything to suppress Lily’s spirit, but she didn’t have to flaunt it quite so much before marriage.

  “I’ll keep that in mind, Mrs. Oxley,” he said. “Perhaps you could guide me in that regard. Men, especially military ones, have little familiarity with such delicate matters.”

  The woman smiled and nodded, clearly pleased. The first real show of any kind of approval since she’d arrived. “I’d be happy to assist you. Lily’s a delightful child. She only needs a woman’s touch.”

  “Thank you,” Jason said. Mrs. Oxley would only touch Lily for as long as it took Jason to make her into the Duchess of Latimore. After that, she and her husband would live a long and happy life together despite his mother.

  At that moment, the footmen removed the dishes and replaced them with the main meat course. As wine flowed and silver clanked against china, he sat back and observed everything he’d set into motion. Aside from his brother’s odd pronouncements and Sarah’s occasional glance at him, things were proceeding well, indeed. Soon, he’d have a fiancée and Lily would be well on her way toward marrying her duke.

  *

  The hunting party rejoined the folks who’d preferred fishing after a successful afternoon all around. Bess should have stayed behind at Carlton, of course, but it had been so long since the last time she’d tromped through the woods to shoot at God’s creatures. As hostess, she’d arranged a picnic tea by the river so that the rest of the occupants of Hollyfield could join in some light refreshment. Anna poured while Rose made sure their guests found everything to their liking. Bess simply did her best to stay far away from Captain Northcross.

  Everything appeared to run smoothly, with the ladies shaded either by the trees or their own parasols and the gentlemen bragging about their catches, either scaly or feathered. Mr. Swan had to pay a hefty wager to one of the other gentlemen who’d killed more birds than he had. Polite conversation flitted on the breezes. A perfectly delightful English country gathering and most likely not as stifling as it appeared on the surface. At least, not to the others. Bess hadn’t hosted anything like this since Bert’s death and, with any luck, she wouldn’t have to host any more.

  One of the footmen separated himself from the throng and approached her, a folded piece of paper in his hand. “For you, my lady.”

  She opened it and found only a few words in a hand she didn’t recognize. The letters were nondescript, neither identifiable as a woman’s work or a man’s. It simply read, “I’m at the circle of stones. Require your assistance urgently.”

  She glanced up at the retreating footman. “Tom.”

  He stopped and turned. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Who gave you this?”

  “That young lady.” He pointed toward Harriett Ellsford. Engaged in animated conversation with one of the other young ladies, Miss Ellsford was clearly neither at the circle of stones or in need of help.

  “Have a groom bring my horse,” she said. The servant bowed and headed toward the stables.

  Rose appeared at her elbow. “What’s wrong?”

  “Someone’s sent me this note.” She handed the paper to her friend. “What do you make of it?”

  “Do you know who sent it?”

  “Not a clue, ”Bess said. “I suppose I’ll have to go to the circle of stones and see who’s in trouble.”

  “But that’s on Hollyfield property,” Rose said. “Let someone there help.”

  “Everyone at Hollyfield is here.”

  Just then, the groom appeared and handed her the reins to her mare.

  “I don’t think you should go,” Rose said. “It could be some kind of trap.”

  “You’ve been reading too many novels.”

  “I’m not imagining things. Whoever wrote that didn’t even sign it,” Rose said. “Why must you be everyone’s rescuer?”

  “Someone has to do it.” She climbed up into the saddle. “Now, be a good thing and act as hostess for me.”

  “All right, but I’m coming after you if you’re not back in an hour.”

  “What, in the pony cart? That’ll scare off any evildoer.”

  As Rose went back to the others, Bess scanned the crowd, doing inventory for who might be missing. With so many guests, she could keep guessing for hours. Clearly, she could only solve this mystery at the circle of stones.

  *

  Bess slowed the mare to a walk, and passed one of the towering stones to enter the circle. When she did, a male figure rose from where he’d been sitting on the ground, no doubt waiting for her.

  Oh, good Lord, she should have known. Roger Montgomery, leaning on a cane. Out here alone with no conveyance in sight.

  “You sent me that note?”

  He smiled up at her. “Allow me to help you down.”

  “I can get down by myself,” she said. “You’re the one with the bad ankle.”

  He stood, gazing at her evenly for a moment. “Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

  “I said I could get down. I didn’t say I was going to do it.”

  “I see.” He continued staring up at her. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

  “I usually help people when they ask.”

  “One of the many things I admire about you.” He lifted a hand up to her. “Please do dismount so I don’t have to crane my neck.”

  “Oh, very well.” She climbed down from the horse, keeping her distance from him. She didn’t normally fear men, and she didn’t this one, but she didn’t have to act as if she trusted him.

  “How did you get out here?” she asked.

  “I rode. My horse threw me.”

  “You have very bad luck with horses, Mr. Montgomery.”

  “I don’t ride the beasts much,” he said. “I seldom leave the city.”

  The words I wish you were there now sprung to mind. Why did he elicit rudeness from her without doing anything strictly objectionable?

  “You must have given that note to Miss Ellsworth before she left Hollyfield,” she said. “Had you planned ahead of time to end up horseless and needing my help?”

  He finally had the decency to look embarrassed. His skin didn’t actually color, but he turned his dark gaze from her for a few seconds.

  “I had another kind of assistance in mind,” he said finally.

  The whole thing felt too contrived to believe his story. He’d deliberately gotten himself out here with a bad ankle and no way to get home without help.

  “I wanted to talk to you in private,” he said.

  “Obviously.”

  “I have the feeling you don’t like me, Lady Rushford, and I can’t imagine why.”

  “That’s not true.” Wonderful. Now he had her protesting the truth. She did dislike him, but she didn’t have any real reason for doing so.

  “Perhaps your distaste comes from the fact that I’m in trade,” he said.

  “I have no distaste for you. I don’t care how you pass your time.”


  “I’m glad.” He took a step toward her. “I must admit to quite a fondness for you.”

  “Fondness? Why ever would you feel fond of me?”

  “There’s the obvious, of course, but my feelings go deeper than your beauty.”

  “Oh, dear heaven,” she said. “You should have your eyes examined.”

  “Humility is a wonderful thing, Lady Rushford, but you take it a bit too far, wouldn’t you say?”

  What a ridiculous conversation. The man had summoned her out here to tell her about his fondness for her beauty.

  “I also admire your spirit and your intelligence,” he went on.

  “Well, at least I have those.”

  “I’d like it very much if you’d allow me to court you,” he said.

  “Court?” she repeated. “As in marry?”

  “That would be my eventual goal, yes.”

  The man clearly had lost his mind. Although he appeared rational, standing there, staring at her, finely dressed and with every hair in place, he couldn’t honestly think she’d entertain a proposal of marriage from someone she’d just met and didn’t much like—all her protests to the contrary.

  “That’s very flattering, Mr. Montgomery, but I have no desire to take another husband.”

  He cleared his throat softly. “I’m a very wealthy man, Lady Rushford.”

  “I have enough money of my own.”

  “I’m a decent companion, and I’m sure there are things about married life that you miss.”

  “Things?”

  “The joys of wedlock,” he said. “Do I need to spell it out?”

  His meaning registered. “You, sir, are no gentleman.”

  He laughed lightly. “We both know that. But I am a man, as I’d be happy to demonstrate.”

  She raised a hand to slap him, but he caught it and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Think about it, my lady. My offer is honorable and sincere.”

  “The offer to frig me?”

  He hooted. “Salty language. You are truly a delight.”

  “That’s what we’re talking about, isn’t it?”

  “Within the boundaries of holy matrimony.”

  “Mr. Montgomery—”