Captain and Countess

by Alice Gaines

  In the sitting room, they encountered Anna and Rose, already seated with the tea things in front of them. Anna’s brows arched in surprise. Rose seemed more taken aback, placing her hand at her throat.

  Oh, dear. Rose might have a bad reaction to a visitor from India, given her husband’s death. She didn’t say anything, though, and when introductions went ’round, she greeted Mr. Singh sincerely.

  Anna poured, and soon they’d all settled with cups in hand.

  “Mr. Singh arrived looking for Hollyfield,” Bess explained.

  “You must be a friend of Captain Northcross,” Anna said. “You would have met him in your native land.”

  “Indeed. We became close friends when he visited my father as the king’s representative,” he said.

  “Your father, Mr. Singh?” Rose asked.

  “The Rana,” he said.

  “Oh, my, then,” Rose said. “You’re royalty.”

  “Not quite on the same level as your monarch, but yes.” He sipped his tea slowly, his dark fingers long against the pale china cup.

  “I’m sure you and the captain must have had many fine adventures,” Bess said.

  “Not all the sort one discusses with English ladies.” After settling his cup on the table next to him, he accepted a plate with cake and tiny sandwiches from Rose. “I’m sure you’ll excuse me for leaving out the details.”

  “We won’t press you for them.” In any case, she could imagine them on her own, having participated in one of the captain’s exploits. The two of them would have cut quite a swath through the local women. That was no concern of hers, of course.

  “So, Mr. Singh,” Rose said. “Is there a particular reason for your visit? You’ve had a very great journey from India.”

  “I was hoping to attend the wedding,” he said.

  Bess nearly choked on her tea. A natural reaction, perhaps, but one she’d have to learn to cover. Jason had resisted making love to her until she’d made the invitation more than clear. She had no claim on him.

  Anna gave her a knowing look. And full of sympathy, damn it. She didn’t need sympathy. She only needed time.

  She took a breath and fixed a pleasant expression on her features. “The captain’s wedding, I presume.”

  “I meant his sister’s,” Mr. Singh answered. “To her duke.”

  “Well, of course that’s what you meant,” Rose fairly burbled.

  “He always spoke of his sister and how she should have a prince.” He set aside his plate and brushed a crumb from his sleeve. “Now, he writes to say that he’s found her a duke, instead.”

  The young man she’d met at the bakery and had later learned had risen to a dukedom. Odd. Lily had seemed so intent on the vicar. Knowing the girl, she couldn’t possibly lead one man on while planning to marry another. Jason had seriously misread the situation. Pig-headed man.

  “I imagine it’ll be a double wedding, though,” Mr. Singh said. “His plan required he make a good match for himself, if I remember.”

  “I’m sure he will,” Bess said. “He has quite a collection of young ladies to choose from.”

  “Jason always has a collection from whom to choose.” Mr. Singh paused for a moment. “Perhaps I speak too bluntly for English tastes.”

  “Your frankness is a pleasant change from the usual manners,” Anna said. “But at Hollyfield you might want to use a bit more care.”

  “Understood. I’m glad to have happened on you ladies first.”

  “You’re welcome here any time,” Bess said.

  “Thank you.” He got up from his chair. “Now, I think I’ll move on to Hollyfield. I have a generous wedding present to deliver.”

  “How delightful.” Rose clapped her hands together. “Is it a huge ruby or silks?”

  “Nothing so romantic, I’m afraid.” He patted his pocket. “Just money. Jason’s and my business has turned a pretty profit recently.”

  “Business?” Bess said. “The two of you are in trade?”

  “Spices, my lady,” he answered. “Does that matter?”

  “Well, yes, rather,” Anna said. “You see, among the English nobility . . .” Oh, dear. How did one explain snobbery to a foreigner? “Most people would prefer that it not be known that they have to work for a living.”

  “Not that Captain Northcross does, of course,” Rose added.

  “They do?” Mr. Singh said.

  “Silly, but that’s how things work here,” Anna said.

  “How ironic.” He paused, turning back to them. “The English work so very hard in India, marching around to and fro when anyone with common sense realizes it’s too hot.”

  “That’s probably the enlisted men,” Bess said.

  “And the officers leading them,” he said. “Stiff upper lip and all that.”

  They probably did, now that she thought about it. English superiority, even over the elements. Had Captain Northcross gone out at midday to make his men parade for no good reason? Somehow, it was easier to picture him hidden away somewhere cool with a young woman and as little clothing as possible.

  “And then, they’re keen on making the natives labor,” he said.

  “I’m afraid you must not have a very good impression of us,” she said.

  “People are people, Lady Rushford. My own have our sins, too,” he said.

  “Well, English people like to insist they have enough money that they don’t have to work,” Anna said. “You won’t do your friend any favor by suggesting otherwise.”

  “I’ll remember that, Miss Pembroke. Now then, I’m off. I hope I’ll see you all at Hollyfield.”

  “Of course,” Rose said.

  Bess gave her a sharp look. “I’m afraid we won’t.”

  “We’ll see,” Anna said.

  They would most certainly not “see,” but she wouldn’t debate the point in front of someone else. As soon as he left, they’d have that conversation. Again.

  *

  Of all people, Roger Montgomery appeared at Carlton House. He strolled into the sitting room after Upton announced him, not a glimmer of recognition showing on his handsome features that she’d spurned his proposal of marriage and he’d stranded her in a downpour. In fact, he appeared confident to the point of smugness as he dropped his hat onto a side table and stood next to it, letting his gaze roam over her body with something that looked remarkably like impudence.

  “I hope you’ve been well,” he said.

  “I was until a moment ago.” At one time, she might have felt bad for acting rudely toward him. Now, she only regretted that her ill manners usually failed to send him away.

  “Touché. I do regret the circumstances of our last meeting,” he said. “Or at least the outcome.”

  “Do you mean that I had to make my way home in a storm or that I flatly refused to marry you?”

  “Both. I’m relieved that you didn’t take ill because of the weather, but I think I can rectify your mistake in refusing me,” he said.

  Her jaw dropped. The man had either lost his mind or had no sense of shame at all. More likely the latter, as his gaze still held the gleam of cleverness, even slyness. “You’re wasting your time. Nothing has changed between us.”

  “I don’t suppose you’ve heard the news, then.” He stood there, studying her, expecting her to ask about the news, no doubt. She didn’t satisfy him but stared right back at him without budging or opening her mouth.

  “Captain Northcross has asked Miss Swan to marry him, and she’s accepted,” he said after a moment. “They’re going to make a formal announcement at a ball tonight.”

  So, there it was, then. She’d known this would happen. She’d steeled herself for it, or tried to. The information settled over her like a cold blanket, and her stomach seemed to turn to ice. She gave no outward clue, though. He kept an assessing gaze on her, but she hadn’t so much as twitched a muscle.

  “I can’t see why Captain Northcross’s marriage plans should have any effect on me,” she said.

 
“He won’t be rescuing you any longer,” he said. “Nor spending the night with you.”

  Now, that really was too much. “Who Captain Northcross marries is none of my business, and how I spend my nights is none of yours.”

  Anger flashed in his eyes. There were real emotions behind his pleasant façade, after all. “Everything about you will be my business once we’re engaged.”

  “When hell freezes over.”

  “I think I can arrange it sooner than that.”

  She straightened, stiffening her spine. She seldom used her social rank to dismiss people, but in this case, she’d make an exception. “I must ask you to leave.”

  “Not until you’ve heard what I have to say.”

  “Oh, for the love of God.” She headed past him. Upton was too old, but a couple of footmen could toss him out on his arse.

  He caught her arm before she could get past. “I know about your little hobby, Lady Rushford. Or should I say Jack Sterling?”

  She stopped in her tracks. “What did you say?”

  “The mysterious author, the fellow who writes all those ghastly novels that put such horrid ideas into young girls’ heads—who would imagine he’s actually three single ladies living quietly in the Helmshire countryside?” he said. “I understand it’s three ladies and a young girl now.”

  “You’re out of your mind.” A lie there, but she didn’t owe this man any honesty.

  “I had a glance at your current work in progress,” he said. “It involves a sea monster, something like an enormous octopus.”

  “Lily,” she whispered. Damn, he really did know their secret. But Lily wouldn’t have betrayed them. If Jack Sterling’s identity came out, it would only hurt her as well.

  “Miss Northcross didn’t intend for me to see her work, I assure you, but that makes no difference. I know.”

  She went to a chair and slumped into it. “What will it take to keep you quiet?”

  “Marry me.”

  “I can give you a great deal of money.”

  “I have more than I’ll ever need,” he said. “I want you.”

  “In heaven’s name, why?”

  “There’s the obvious, of course.”

  She stared at him for a moment. “Surely, you’re not saying that you love me.”

  “Love?” He laughed, actually laughed. “Love’s a messy emotion. I have no need for it.”

  Good Lord, the man was even more callous than she’d imagined.

  “The obvious is your body, Lady Rushford,” he said.

  “My body?” This whole situation was becoming more and more insane. “I’m not slender. I’m not elegant. I’m not even tall.”

  “I like my women plump,” he said. “Besides, I’ll be putting my cock into an earl’s wife. I’ll be plowing a member of the haute ton.”

  “So, that’s really what you’re after—social standing?”

  “I’m tired of being treated as second class. The lot of you are no better than me. Most of you are silly and self-absorbed.”

  That, at least, made sense in a perverse sort of way. It was far more logical than him wanting her for her body. Unfortunately, it would never make the foundation for any decent marriage, even one more or less devoid of passion like the one she’d shared with Bert. Bert, dear man. How could she follow Bert with this odious person? And how could she go to his bed after Jason Northcross had taught her how glorious sex could be?

  “I think you see now why you will become my wife,” he said. “If you don’t, I’ll let the world know who Jack Sterling really is. I imagine the newspapers will be eager to get all the details.”

  “You’d really do that?” she asked.

  “Do you need to ask?”

  Well, that was that. They could continue writing after word got out. The notoriety might even increase sales. But the scandal would ruin their reputations. Hers didn’t matter. People could think or say anything they wanted about her. Anna and Rose would never find husbands, though. And Bert’s family would never allow her to leave Carlton House to her dear friends. If something were to happen to her, they’d have nothing but their writing income to support themselves. But worst of all, he could also ruin Lily Northcross, and she’d never marry, either. What a stupendous calamity.

  “Have I changed your mind?” he said.

  “You have.”

  “Good.” He went back to the table and picked up his hat. “You’ll attend the ball at Hollyfield tonight. I’ll make my announcement right after Captain Northcross makes his.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The others squabbled with Bess from the moment she told them the news, all through the rest of the afternoon and while they dressed for the ball. Now, they continued during the carriage ride to Hollyfield.

  “I absolutely forbid it,” Anna said. “You cannot marry Roger Montgomery.”

  “It’s dreadful,” Rose moaned into her handkerchief. “Too, too dreadful.”

  “Do stop crying, Rose,” Bess said. “Your nose and eyes will be bright red when we get to the ball.”

  “But I wanted you to be ha . . . happy,” Rose cried. “With Captain Northcross.”

  Oh, dear. She’d forgotten to share that little detail with them. “He’s announcing his engagement tonight too, to a very proper young lady.”

  “He can’t,” Rose wailed. “He’s in love with you.”

  Bess groaned. “Make her see the logic in the match.”

  “You’re the one acting illogically,” Anna said. “Roger Montgomery?”

  “I have my reasons.” Reasons she wouldn’t share with the two of them. If they ever discovered she’d agreed to marry the man for their benefit, they’d go from revolt to full-blown insurrection. They might do something insane, like revealing Jack Sterling’s identity themselves, to stop her from keeping her promise to Montgomery.

  “Are you doing this to make Jason Northcross jealous?” Anna said.

  “Jealous? Why should I want him to be jealous?”

  “To keep him from making his own idiotic marriage mistake,” Anna said.

  For a moment, Rose’s expression brightened. “Is that it? Is it part of your plan to win him for yourself?”

  “By becoming someone else’s wife?”

  “Once he came to his senses and pursued you, you could both break off your engagements,” Rose said.

  “He’s much too honorable to do that,” she said. “Besides, I’m completely unsuitable for him.”

  “Might I remind you he grabbed you by the throat, hurled you off a cliff, and drowned you?” Anna said.

  “Oh, darling, listen to yourself.”

  Anna crossed her arms over her chest and sat back against the cushions. All the better position for her to glower at Bess. “You know what I mean.”

  “That was just sex,” she said.

  “That was love, and you know it.” Rose went back to sniffling into her handkerchief.

  Though they couldn’t change her mind, they had a point where the Northcross family was concerned. Her engagement would shock Jason, because he knew how she felt about Montgomery. He didn’t have any say in the matter, of course. But after their intimacy, surprising him in this way didn’t sit quite right. Although he hadn’t told her who he planned to marry, he had warned her that he’d choose one of the young ladies in attendance at Hollyfield.

  Lily would take the announcement even harder. She couldn’t possibly miss the timing. She’d have to realize Montgomery’s knowledge of their writing had had some part in Bess’s agreeing to marry him. She’d blame herself. Bess would have to warn her and demand she not repeat the whole sordid mess to anyone. Oh what a tangled web, indeed.

  The carriage left the road and started down the drive to the front steps of Hollyfield.

  “We’re here,” Bess said. “I expect both of you to behave yourselves.”

  “I’ll find some strong spirits and drown my sorrows,” Rose declared.

  “You’ll do no such thing. And you’ll keep a civil ton
gue in your head, Anna.”

  “I’ll be a paragon,” Anna said. “We’ll talk you out of this later.”

  Not bloody likely.

  The footman opened the door and helped all three of them out of the carriage. Bess hesitated before going into the house, her feet refusing to move for a moment. Oh, hell, this wasn’t a scaffold or the guillotine. It was only a ball and a few announcements. Who knew? Someone might even congratulate her.

  Finally, she caught Anna glancing out of the corner of her eye. When Anna’s brow arched, too, Bess climbed the stairs at a brisk pace, her head held high.

  The ballroom was full enough for her to avoid her fiancé-to-be, but unfortunately, she also couldn’t spot Lily. She couldn’t miss Jason, though, dressed as he was in his regimentals. The same as the first night she’d met him. Only now, she’d made the acquaintance of the firm body beneath the uniform and had felt his mouth and hands moving over her. She looked away before the image of that male part of him flooded her mind. She couldn’t escape it entirely, but she wouldn’t dwell on it, either. All that would soon belong to another woman, and the faster she forgot about it, the better. Only why did he have to be so blessed beautiful?

  “Lady Rushford,” a female voice said.

  She glanced in that direction to find Lady Deauville approaching. Let the pleasantries begin.

  “How delightful to see you again,” Lady Deauville said. “It has been a while.”

  “Since the hunting party at Carlton House.”

  “Ah, yes. The day of the storm. We were all relieved when you and Captain Northcross returned safely.” Lady Deauville, placed an elegant hand over her chest in a gesture of concern. “I can’t imagine how the two of you endured the night in a tiny cottage.”

  “We had a fire. We endured perfectly well.” If there was one person in the room who Bess could wish would guess exactly how they endured, it would be this woman. The details would give her a sour stomach, given her unjustified attachment to the captain.