Becoming Countess Dumont

by K. Webster

  “You’ll arrive in the dining room on my arm. No negotiations,” he murmurs as he adjusts his bowtie.

  Even though his words infuriate me, I’m still lost in our kisses. This man makes no sense to me. I hate him, yet . . .

  I don’t.

  I simply don’t.

  In fact, I crave more of him.

  I crave the urge to slap him and then let him fuck me senseless.

  “This way,” Alexander grumbles as he ushers me into the exuberant dining room.

  The table is extremely long, enough to fit at least fifty people. One end has been set with plates and tableware for our supper. There, three people turn to regard us as we enter.

  “Alexander!” a female voice chirps upon our entrance.

  “Mother,” Alexander greets warmly as he releases my hand to stride over to her. His entire persona has changed upon the presence of this woman.

  I follow behind him and wait to be introduced. As he hugs her in her chair, my eyes skitter over to Alcott, who is gaping at me. I wink at him in a way that says, Take that, you smug bastard, and he grins. With a slight nod on his part, I’m awarded with his approval. I’ll take it. Maybe Alcott isn’t as bad as I originally thought.

  “Who is the vision you’ve brought to supper?” she asks with a smile once he releases her.

  “My wife,” he replies gruffly.

  I’m about to swat at him to remind him we’re supposed to be convincing his family, but his mother beats me to it. She rears her fist back and socks him in the belly, which causes me to gasp. Her action has Alcott bursting with laughter.

  “You went off to London and got married? Without telling your mother?” she scolds.

  “Mother, meet my wife, Edith. Edith, meet my mean-as-a-snake mother, Maude,” Alexander groans. I don’t miss the affectionate tone in his voice though that contradicts his words. He loves her and that has my heart clenching in my chest.

  I reach my hand out to shake hers, but she holds her arms open. Her gesture causes an ache in my chest as I long for my own mother. Tears well in my eyes, so I hurry and throw myself into the hug to hide my emotions from her. She smells sweet, like peonies.

  “You’re a beautiful treasure, dear Edith. We’re honored to have you in our family,” she whispers into my ear.

  A tear rolls out as she strokes my back. I already love this woman. One hug and I don’t care if the rest of the family members are nothing but self-gratifying monsters. Maude is the true family jewel, and I cannot wait to learn more about her.

  “Please sit beside me, darling,” she coos as I pull away. And as any mother would, she notices my being upset and flashes me a look that promises that everything will be okay.

  I swipe the tear away and sit in the seat Alexander has pulled out for me. She reaches over and takes my hand, squeezing it in a reassuring way. Her touch is almost hot, and I’m once again reminded of my mother, especially in her last days, when she was so ill.

  “Jasper and Elisabeth won’t be making it for supper tonight,” Alfred informs us. “It appears your sister was feeling exhausted from your travels.”

  I nod and steal a glance over at Alexander, who has found his seat beside me. He’s watching my exchange with his mother with interest.

  “Nicolette, we may carry on with dinner,” Alfred booms over his shoulder toward the door to the kitchen.

  Alexander sighs beside me, and I shoot him a questioning look. He won’t meet my gaze, though, because he’s too busy sending death looks to his brother, who’s wearing a pleased grin. What in the world did I miss?

  “Edith darling, we’re going to plan a celebration. It simply isn’t fair that I missed my eldest son’s wedding. We’ll hold an elegant reception tomorrow evening. All of our closest friends and family will join us,” Maude tells me in a firm tone as she finally releases my hand.

  I nod in agreement, but my attention is drawn away from her when a gorgeous woman steps into the dining room carrying two bottles of wine. She’s followed by two more older women who are holding trays. Her dress indicates she’s the help, but she may as well be royalty, because she doesn’t belong in the clothing.

  My eyes are drawn to her rather large cleavage, which is busting out the top of the black blouse of her uniform. The top two buttons have been undone, and something about the way she carries herself rubs me the wrong way. Her pink lips curve into a grin when she sees my husband.

  Back off, princess.

  “Nicolette,” Alexander greets with a grumble.

  She saunters over to his side, completely ignoring me, and sets the bottles on the table. “Alexander, you look good—really good. I’ve missed you.”

  With every sugary-sweet word that pours from her mouth, I feel my talons extend. There’s clearly a history between these two—before me—over which I’m already feeling jealous. They may have some sort of history, but he’s mine now.

  When she leans down and hugs him, dipping her breasts in front of his face, I lose control.

  “Good evening. I’m Alexander’s wife,” I seethe between clenched teeth.

  She jerks back up and stares at me in shock, as if she’s seeing me for the first time. Alcott’s sniggering from across the table reminds me that I don’t, in fact, like him.

  “Oh,” she says as she eyes me, her blond curls bouncing. “I haven’t heard one thing about you.” She places a hand on Alexander’s shoulder and squeezes it. “Alexander, I had no idea you had settled down. If only I had known you were ready to settle. I would have . . .” her voice trails off with a hint of remorse.

  “I’ll have some wine now, please,” I tell her coldly, reminding her of her place in this house.

  Her cheeks redden, and she whips her head over to Alcott as if to ask how to respond to me. He shrugs his shoulders and smirks. I think I like him again.

  “Yes, of course,” she murmurs in an embarrassed tone.

  Alexander glances over at me and shakes his head in disproval. I don’t care though. The maid should step away from my husband before I push her away.

  “I was just in the garden the other day, and the lemon trees were yielding the most beautiful batch of lemons almost ripe for the picking. Perhaps, Edith, tomorrow, we’ll pick them and use them in our décor for the reception?” Maude questions, drawing me away from my desire to claw Nicolette’s eyeballs out.

  Her sweet tone is almost that of how my mother’s used to be. She always had an uncanny ability to dissolve arguments between my sisters and me. An ache in my chest seizes me as I regard the woman who reminds me so much of my mother, whom I miss dearly.

  “That would be lovely, Maude. Lemons remind me of home. We had many fruit trees in our orchard in the fields behind our house. My sisters and I would get lost for hours picking fruit. A lemon-themed reception sounds perfect, actually.” I smile.

  She takes my hand again, and something in the way she clenches it makes me think she’s proud of my letting Nicolette be. Just like mother would be.

  “Darling, call me Ma. Maude is much too formal for you to call me. We’re family now,” she says with a grin.

  With tears filling my eyes, I nod my understanding. We are family, and I somehow already love this woman I’ve only been with for a matter of minutes.

  PRIDE FILLS MY CHEST WHEN Mother asks Edith to call her Ma. I was temporarily frustrated with her behavior toward Nicolette, but it soon subsided the moment Mother calmed my wife. It fascinated me that Edith, such a strong-willed woman, so easily gave up her fight when it came to my mother.

  And my mother, who turned her nose up to every woman who’s ever entered my life, seems entirely stricken with Edith. I cannot be any more pleased with the arrangement.

  Conversation flowed easily and I found myself utterly intrigued with all that Edith had to say about her life on the farm, her time at university, and some slightly embellished times she and I had together. She was selling her part as my wife quite well. Hell, even I was buying it.

  In fact, I wanted it
all to be true.

  I found myself watching her lips as she spoke, and craving to touch them with my own. When she would laugh, I would close my eyes and revel in the sound of it. And whenever she would touch my hand and draw me into the conversation, my skin would buzz to life.

  Edith had managed to enchant not only my family, but me as well. Here we had spent so many months with me ignoring her—never taking the time to get to know her—and this darling of a woman had been there the entire time.

  God, I’m such a fool.

  No wonder Father always thought ill of me.

  Tonight, however, even he appears to be smitten with her wit and charm. I can’t help the feeling of pride that washes over me. Edith, my wife, is singlehandedly bridging a gap between my father and me simply by her being herself.

  “Shall we have a drink and a smoke in the billiard room?” Father suggests to Alcott and me upon our finishing our supper.

  “I think that’s a lovely idea, Alfred. Edith and I could use a little one-to-one time. We’ll be here while you do your business.” Mother smiles at him.

  He stands and gives her a peck on her cheek before leaving with Alcott on his heels. Mimicking my father, I rise and lean forward to kiss my wife for show. But when she beams beautifully at me, seemingly pleased at my desire to kiss her, I know that it isn’t an act on her part.

  The woman with the viper mentality has a vulnerability that shines through every now and again. And though it may be brief, I see it.

  I want to see more of it.

  Dipping down, I bypass her cheek and brush a soft kiss on her lips. A small sigh escapes her, and I smell a hint of the vintage wine in which we indulged at dinner. The desire to devour her pouty lips is strong, but I would never disrespect my mother. Instead, I pull away and bring my lips to the shell of her ear.

  “You’re absolutely stunning tonight, Edith. I haven’t been able to take my eyes from you most of the night. My hands are eager to caress your sensitive flesh that’s hidden under your dress. I’m practically watering at the mouth at the very idea of sampling what I had the opportunity of pleasuring earlier this afternoon. Dear wife, please let me make good on my promises behind closed doors later,” I whisper, my hot breath undoubtedly tickling her ear.

  She turns to observe me as if to uncover any hidden tricks. I’m certainly not toying with her in this moment. I very much want to devour her sweet body.

  Her eyes flutter closed when I bring my lips to hers once again. The kiss is short and sweet, but with a stroke of my thumb on her heated cheek, I nonverbally convey that I mean every word.

  “I’d love that,” she murmurs as I pull away.

  Behind her, Mother watches us happily. “Now, go away, son. She’s mine for the next hour. Then you can carry on your husband duties later, when not in the presence of your mother.”

  Edith’s cheeks blaze, and I shake my head good-naturedly at Mother. My wife doesn’t have the honor of knowing my feisty mother just yet, but she soon will.

  After a nod to both of them, I stride from the room and down the long corridor toward the billiard room. Before I enter the next room, someone reaches a hand from an open doorway and grabs hold of the lapel of my waistcoat. My fists clench, ready to punch the attacker. When my eyes meet the sultry, blue ones of Nicolette, I relax because she is of no threat to me.

  “Alexander.” She grins as she tugs me into a pantry lined with jars of food. “I’ve missed you for so long.”

  I narrow my gaze at her as anger floods my veins. Alcott and I are going to have a serious conversation about this, because I’m almost certain he has something to do with her employment at our estate.

  “How’s your father?” I question.

  She releases me and folds her arms under her breasts, which causes them to spill out even more. Normally, my gaze would be drawn to them and I’d have my cock pushed into her before even considering the repercussions. But now, being that things have changed between Edith and me, my actions remain paused.

  Nicolette and I go way back to our teen years. She was my first kiss. The first woman to put her mouth on my cock. And the woman to whom I lost my virginity. I think, deep down, she’s always thought we’d marry one day despite my telling her otherwise. It doesn’t help that I toyed with her along the way. Whenever I was feeling lonely or needed to fuck, she was there to service my needs.

  But now?

  Now, I’m not interested in anything she has to offer. Nicolette is missing something Edith has. And if I’m honest with myself, it has nothing to do with their outward appearances. Nicolette doesn’t even carry a small spark in comparison to the blazing personality that is Edith.

  Edith infuriates me yet turns me on.

  She is crazier than any loon at the asylum, yet I want to keep her as mine.

  My wife is average, if you will, in comparison to this exquisite blonde before me, yet I still desire to be with Edith and not Nicolette.

  “Father lost his property. The taxes were too much of a burden on him and it was all repossessed. Your father asked how he could be of service to my father. But he didn’t want to incur any more debts and instead only asked that he employ me so that I may have a solid roof over my head and food to eat.” She frowns after her explanation.

  I blink thoughts of Edith away and regard Nicolette, who now has a tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that,” I murmur.

  Apparently, Alcott isn’t to blame for her sudden appearance, so I drop my guard. She must sense my release of tension, because she throws her arms around my neck. Her lips attempt to find mine, but I turn away.

  “Nicolette, that’s enough,” I bark out. My words are stern, and she gasps as if she’s been stung. “I’m a married man now, and it’s inappropriate for us to even be alone, much less your being all over me.”

  “How could you, Alexander?” she demands. “We were supposed to marry! And now? Now, you’ve gone off and married some plain bore of a woman.”

  I know she’s hurt, but it is the course of our life.

  “It’s done, dear. There’s no changing it. And quite frankly, that ‘bore of a woman’ has done nothing but entertain my thoughts and my heart for months. I’m quite fond of her. Excuse me. I must be going,” I growl.

  “Fond, maybe. But love? You can’t love her like you love me.”

  I clench my jaw and spit out my response. “I don’t love you.”

  She attempts to kiss me again, but I push her away easily, as she’s a slight woman. Her tears aren’t silent as I stalk out of the pantry and toward the billiard room. I hope that Mother and Edith don’t hear her hysterics, because I don’t want to explain the situation.

  “You’ll always come back to me Alexander. You always do.”

  Her last words send a shiver of uncertainty through me.

  Unfortunately, she’s right.

  Can a man really change his ways?

  Drinks with my father and brother weren’t of interest to me. After my talk with Nicolette, all I could think about was seeing Edith again. To convince myself that I could, in fact, become a changed man.

  Now, as I reenter the dining room with them, I’m certain that I can.

  Edith tilts her head back and peals of laughter bounce throughout the room as she’s entertained by something my mother has said to her. The sound brings a smile upon my lips, and I have the desire to make her laugh more often. When she truly lets herself free of the stiffness she usually hides behind, she’s quite a beauty.

  I nearly groan aloud as I watch her lick the cream from her spoon. She’s quite fond of her sweets after dinner and I am quite fond of watching her devour them. In fact, that was one of the first times I had truly noticed her in a sexual way.

  I’m boring her, much like every evening. However, the woman needs to prepare to meet my father. And knowing all that she can about my past and my family will only assist her for their meeting.

  “And Alcott went to boarding school in—” I start but am interrupted by her ey
es widening.

  “Sorry to bother you,” the innkeeper chirps as she enters the dining room. “But, I made the absolute most delicious teacake that I insist you both try.”

  I grunt out my thanks as she sets down a lemon dessert dusted in sugars and then leaves us be. With my spoon, I scoop out a piece of the dessert and catch a glimpse of Edith that causes my dick to go hard.

  “Oh my,” she moans with closed eyes as she licks the food from the spoon. “This is absolute perfection, Alexander.”

  I’m gaping at her with my own spoon poised at my lips. Her dark hair tonight has come loose from the pins and stray hairs dangle around her face, making her look less put together and a lot more stunning than usual. I have the urge to tug it all loose and run my fingers through it. And then—then I want to kiss her mouth that is the cause of many dirty thoughts running through my head at the moment.

  Why in the fuck do I have the urge to kiss Edith of all people?

  I shovel in the bite of the cake to distract me from my thoughts and scrunch up my nose in disgust. The dessert is way too sweet for my liking.

  “I’ve had better,” I growl.

  Her eyes pop open and she eyes me incredulously. “You’re mad! This is the most delicious thing I have ever tasted, Alexander. I could lick up every morsel and never be satisfied for I would always crave more.”

  Now, my dick is throbbing from her words. All I can do is stare at her mouth and envision it were me she wished to taste instead. She shakes her head and spoons another bite into her mouth—a mouth that I’m suddenly noticing and really fucking wanting. Full pink lips press against the utensil in her valiant effort not to miss a crumb and I have to tear my gaze from them.

  “I understand why it is that you have so many lovers,” I smirk and shove my dessert across the table toward her.

  She grins at me as she pulls it over to her. “Oh, do you now?”

  “Your mouth.”

  Her cheeks blaze and she ignores my comment. Instead of responding, she devours the dessert and I hungrily stare at her while she does it.