More or Less a Countess

by Anna Bradley

  She gathered her soaked skirts around her and, as daintily as if the headstone were a throne, lowered herself until she was perched on the edge. She settled her sketchbook over one arm and moved her pencil over the paper in quick, confident strokes, her back curled over the page to protect it from the rain.

  Nick crossed his arms over his chest and watched her, his gaze moving over her slender shoulders, and then lower, over the long locks of her hair lying in heavy tangles down her back. She had fair coloring, but the rain had darkened her hair to a warm chestnut color.

  A dark gray cloud had moved directly overhead, and as he’d predicted the rain began to fall in earnest, but she was utterly absorbed in her drawing and paid it no mind. There was something arresting about her small, serious figure half-hidden among the tall headstones, and a strange daze descended on him as he watched her, lost in his thoughts as he listened to the heavy drops of rain fall onto the rough, cold surface of the headstones around him.

  Christ, what a dismal place. So gray and cold, just like every other place in London. Everywhere he looked there was nothing but barren trees and knee-deep mounds of mud where there should be acres of soft green grass. How could anyone live in such a place? How could they bear it—

  “There. That’s good enough. I can finish it later from memory. I beg your pardon for keeping you standing in the rain, Lord Dare. I’m ready to leave now.”

  Nick’s gaze snapped to Miss Somerset, and he was relieved to see she’d closed her sketchbook at last. He shook off the sudden melancholy that had descended on him and produced his usual charming smile. “No need to apologize, Miss Somerset. I’m pleased to be of service.”

  He gestured her toward his phaeton, and she tucked her sketchbook under her arm and got to her feet. As she made her way toward the carriage, Nick saw she’d unbuttoned her cloak when she sat down, and he couldn’t help but notice her gown was clinging to her legs, revealing the distracting outline of softly curved thighs through the damp muslin.

  Miss Somerset was an odd young lady, to be sure, but even covered in mud with rain dripping down her cheeks, she was rather fetching.

  She didn’t wait for him to assist her into the carriage, but scrambled into her seat before he had a chance to offer his hand. He swung himself up beside her, took up the ribbons, and in the next moment they were dashing through the London streets at a brisk pace.

  “I’m afraid you’re certain to take a chill,” Nick said, after they’d gone for some minutes without speaking.

  “Not at all, my lord. I’m quite accustomed to the rain and wet, and I never get ill. I beg you won’t concern yourself.”

  She grasped a fistful of her damp, clinging skirts and tugged. Nick winced at the rude sucking sound they made as they came unstuck from her legs, but he couldn’t help glancing over at her to see if he might catch another glimpse of the delicious curve of her thighs. Before he could have another peek, however, his gaze was caught by a tiny smirk on her lips.

  He frowned. “For a lady who’s soaked to the skin and covered with mud, you look pleased with yourself, Miss Somerset.”

  She cast him a startled look from the corner of her eye. “Satisfied? No, indeed, Lord Dare. I, ah…well, I’m afraid you’re right, and I am a bit chilled, after all.”

  Nick’s eyes narrowed on her flushed cheeks and those pretty lips still glowing a healthy pink when they should long since have turned blue with cold.

  She didn’t look chilled.

  “Then I must insist on calling upon you tomorrow, to inquire after your health.”

  “What? You can’t mean you still want to call, after—” She caught herself and cleared her throat. “That is, what I mean to say is, that won’t be necessary, Lord Dare.”

  Nick turned to stare at her, incredulous.

  Devil take her, she intended to refuse his next call!

  Why, the devious little chit. She never had any intention of encouraging his suit. On the contrary, she’d only allowed him to take her out today because she wanted to get to Islington to get her sketch, and if she could frighten him off with all her talk of bones and disease, so much the better. She’d used him, and now that he’d served his purpose, she thought she could discard him without a second thought.

  But Nick hadn’t spent an entire afternoon standing about in ruined boots with icy water running in rivulets down his back—and discussing corpses, no less—just to be peremptorily dismissed by a crafty minx like Miss Somerset. “Oh, but I’m afraid I must insist on calling. I won’t be able to rest easy until I reassure myself regarding your health.”

  Her health be damned. Nick didn’t care if she ended up with a raw throat and a red nose. It was time to bypass her altogether, and secure an introduction to her grandmother. Once Lady Chase knew the Earl of Dare wished to court her granddaughter, Miss Somerset would have a devil of a time escaping him.

  No matter how clever she was.

  Whatever satisfaction Miss Somerset had taken in the success of her burial grounds mission was now dissolving into uneasiness. “I’m afraid I must discourage you from calling again, my lord. I’m not interested in…”

  She felt abruptly silent as he made the turn into Bedford Square and brought his phaeton to a halt in front of the door. A low, distressed sound escaped her throat at the sight of the black crested carriage waiting in the drive.

  “Ah, but here’s some luck, Miss Somerset.” He tossed aside the reins and turned an angelic smile on her. “I believe your grandmother is home. I’ve heard a great deal about her, and I’m anxious to have the honor of an introduction.”

  But Miss Somerset didn’t appear as enthusiastic as he was, and the phaeton had hardly rolled to a halt before she was scrambling to open the door. “Oh, ah…I’m afraid that won’t be possible, my lord. My grandmother never accepts calls this late in the day. Thank you for the drive, and for your diverting company. Good afternoon.”

  “Pity, but no matter. I’ll simply keep calling until she receives me.”

  There was no mistaking the look of panic that flashed across Miss Somerset’s face at this thinly veiled threat. “She won’t receive you, Lord Dare. She, ah…she doesn’t receive any gentlemen without a formal introduction.”

  Nick raised a skeptical eyebrow at this. He knew a blatant lie when he heard one. “How fortunate we have you to introduce us, then.”

  “Oh, I…well, we’ll see. I can’t make any promises, I’m afraid.”

  She tried to leap from the carriage, but he laid a hand on her arm to stop her. Damn her, she wasn’t going to brush him off as if he were a bit of dried mud clinging to her skirts. If she wouldn’t invite him inside, he’d keep her sitting out here on the drive until someone inside the house noticed his phaeton and came out to investigate.

  “Wait, Miss Somerset. Tell me more about the plague, won’t you? I’m certain I could learn a great deal from you.”

  “The plague? You wish to discuss the plague now?”

  “Well, I confess I’ve never been much interested in the plague, but after the engaging information you shared today regarding the mountains of bones, I could hardly fail to be intrigued. Now, tell me all about it, won’t you?”

  She tugged at her arm to free herself from his grip. “Perhaps another time, my lord.”

  “Very well, but you never showed me your sketch. May I see it?”

  She darted a nervous glance out the carriage window, but no one appeared, and after a moment she turned back to him and practically tossed her sketchbook into his lap. “It’s nothing so extraordinary, I assure you.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’re being far too modest, Miss Somerset.” He flipped open the book to the first page. “Now, this sketch here, for example. I could tell at once it’s a headstone. You’ve perfectly captured the, ah…rectangular shape of it. What else have you drawn?”

  He turned the pages as slowly as possi
ble, pausing with each new sketch. He exclaimed over every straight line and every creative bit of shading until Miss Somerset looked as if she were about to tackle him to the floor of the carriage, wrench the book from his hands, and beat him over the head with it.

  “Very nice, indeed,” he announced as he handed the sketchbook back to her at last. “You’re kind to indulge my curiosity.”

  She’d been keeping one eye on him and the other on the front of the house, and now she turned and snatched the book out of his hands. “Of course, my lord. I wish you a good afternoon.”

  She threw open the carriage door and scrambled from her seat, but before she could dash up the drive and vanish through the front door, he leapt down to follow her. “Wait. I’ll escort you to your door.”

  “No! That is, no thank you, Lord Dare. Goodbye!” She tossed an anxious look over her shoulder as she darted toward the stairs, then disappeared into the house, closing the door behind her with a decisive thud.

  Nick chuckled as he watched her go, then climbed back into his phaeton, took up the ribbons, and rolled down the drive with a grin still on his lips. He might not have succeeded in his quest to meet her grandmother, but he’d managed to jerk Miss Somerset from her complacency, and she was rather amusing when she was in a panic.

  The day hadn’t been an utter loss, after all.

  Chapter Six

  “Oh, just go, why don’t you? Go on!”

  Violet peered through a crack in the door, her heart thumping with panic when Lord Dare’s carriage continued to linger in the drive. Contrary man! He knew very well she wished to get rid of him, and he’d chosen to make it as difficult as possible.

  Tell him all about the plague, indeed.

  But then he did seem the sort of man who’d do whatever he could to cause trouble, just on principle alone, and he was far more persistent than any dissolute rake had a right to be. He should have grown bored with his chase days ago, when she hadn’t fallen into a passion and lifted her skirts for him as Lady Uplands had done.

  What was the matter with the man? She couldn’t account for his behavior in the least. The visit to the burial grounds alone should have been more than enough to frighten Lord Dare away, but he hadn’t even raised an eyebrow when she’d suggested they dig up the skeletons! And now here he was, demanding he be permitted to call on her again tomorrow.

  It wasn’t fair. She’d reconciled herself to never having a gentleman fall in love with her, but she’d thought she could at least rely on her ability to repel them at will.

  “Violet?” Hyacinth was hurrying down the stairs. “There you are. I was just searching for you in the attics. Have you been outside? Whose carriage is that going down the drive?”

  Violet slammed the door closed and threw herself against it. “I—what carriage? I didn’t see a carriage. You’re imagining things, Hyacinth.”

  It wasn’t a convincing denial, especially when Violet’s voice rose to a squeak at the end, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances.

  “Am I, indeed?” Hyacinth folded her arms over her chest. “I have a far more vivid imagination than I realized.”

  Violet’s brain scrambled for something to say, some plausible excuse, but after the panic with Lord Dare her wits had deserted her. She let her head fall back against the door in defeat.

  Why in the world were her grandmother and Hyacinth back so soon? It was hardly past tea time. Violet thought she’d have hours yet before they’d arrive home, but here they were, and now she was going to get caught having been out alone with a notorious rogue after claiming she had the headache.

  After a long moment of silence, Hyacinth sighed. “I’m aware you’re up to something, Violet, but I haven’t time to wheedle it from you now. Grandmother wishes to see you at once.”

  Oh, dear God. If she couldn’t fool Hyacinth, she didn’t have the smallest hope of fooling her grandmother. “Me? Why should she wish to see me?”

  Hyacinth paused on the last step and gave Violet a narrow look. “Whatever is the matter with you? You look quite wild.”

  “I—nothing at all. I just…why are you back from Iris’s so soon? And what does Grandmother want?”

  Hyacinth stared at her for another moment, a frown creasing her brow. “Eddesley sent a message to Grosvenor Square, asking us to come home at once, so here we are. You’d better go up this minute, Violet. Grandmother is upset, and—”

  Dread pooled in Violet’s stomach. “Upset? But it was just a carriage ride, Hyacinth! Why, I hardly said two words to him the entire afternoon. There’s nothing at all to be upset about—”

  “Who? What carriage ride?” Hyacinth looked puzzled. “Do you mean the carriage ride from London to Bath? She doesn’t fancy it, no, but it can’t be helped. Grandmother is insisting they leave this afternoon rather than tomorrow morning. I gather Lady Atherton’s attack is quite a severe one, and Grandmother doesn’t like to wait.”

  Violet gave her sister a blank look. “Lady Atherton?”

  “Yes. She’s had another bilious attack, this one worse than the last. Grandmother is accompanying her to Bath to take the waters. I thought Eddesley told you.”

  “No. I haven’t seen him.” He hadn’t been stationed in his usual spot at the doors, despite it being calling hours, and now that Violet’s alarm had begun to subside, she began to notice other irregularities.

  Maidservants were dashing up the stairs, and two footmen were on their way down, dragging a huge trunk between them. Eddesley, who was as stoic as a statue until his routine was disturbed, was running to and fro from the second floor landing to the entryway, his brow damp with sweat, chasing servants, shouting orders, and adding to the general mayhem.

  Relief flooded through Violet, making her knees weak. No one had even noticed Lord Dare. The house was in too much of an uproar. “How awful.” Not for her, of course, but certainly for poor Lady Atherton. “I’ll go to Grandmother at once.”

  Violet bounded up the stairs with the energy of a criminal who’d slipped the noose, her heart still pounding at her near miss.

  “Oh, Violet, there you are,” Lady Chase said once she’d answered Violet’s knock. “Well, well, it’s dreadful, isn’t it? Poor, dear Lady Atherton. I’m afraid her own family is little comfort to her, so it’s left to her friends, but then I’m not the sort to let a friend suffer, no matter how much her illness might be an inconvenience to me.”

  “No, of course not, Grandmother.” Violet made a few soothing noises, though privately she wondered whether this new attack of Lady Atherton’s was more theatrical than medical. The lady did have a tendency to imagine even the mildest stomach pain was the first sign of cholera, so this wasn’t the only time Lady Chase had been obliged to make a sudden trip to Bath.

  “How long do you suppose you’ll be gone?” The last time the two old ladies had rushed off to Bath they’d been back within five days when it turned out Lady Atherton wasn’t expiring from consumption after all, but only had a mild cough.

  “At least two weeks, I imagine—likely more. It depends entirely on how quickly poor, dear Lady Atherton recovers from her attack. If she recovers,” Lady Chase added darkly.

  Violet thought the length of their stay depended far more on whether they found the company in Bath diverting than it did on Lady Atherton’s health, but if her grandmother really should be gone for two weeks…

  Well, she was a dreadful, wicked, and ungrateful young lady, because she couldn’t quite prevent a surge of delight at the thought of all that freedom.

  Two weeks! Why, she could finish all her sketches in that time. At last, after nearly two years of work, fate was smiling on her literary endeavors! It was nothing less than a triumph for bluestockings and adventuresses!

  “Now, Violet, I don’t like to think of you and Hyacinth rambling about alone in the house while I’m away, so you’ll spend the time with Iris an
d Lord Huntington in Grosvenor Square, but I expect you to keep watch over Hyacinth even so. You must keep her amused so she doesn’t succumb to low spirits, but don’t exhaust her, either.”

  “Yes, I promise I will, Grandmother.”

  Lady Chase patted her cheek. “Well, Violet, you’re a good girl, for all your foolish notions, and a most devoted sister. I know you’ll keep your promise and take good care of her. Now, do go away, won’t you? You’re distracting me.”

  Violet pressed a kiss to Lady Chase’s cheek. “Yes, Grandmother.”

  She made her way downstairs, where she found Hyacinth alone in the parlor. “Two weeks, she says.” Violet threw herself into the chair next to her sister’s, nodding when Hyacinth offered to pour her some tea. “Do you think she’ll really be gone so long this time?”

  “It’s difficult to say. I suppose it depends on how bad Lady Atherton is.” Hyacinth frowned as she passed Violet a cup. “Poor lady. How awful it must be to be ill as often as she is.”

  Violet raised an eyebrow at this. “Or to fancy herself ill as often as she does. Lady Atherton is the healthiest invalid in Bath.”

  “You’ll feel awful for saying such a thing should she prove to be truly ill this time,” Hyacinth scolded, even as a reluctant smile curved her lips.

  Violet snorted. “It hasn’t happened yet.”

  They sat for another half hour, sipping their tea in companionable silence, until Lady Chase at last made her way down the stairs. They crowded into the entryway to bid her goodbye.

  “Well, girls. I’ll miss you, but it can’t be helped,” Lady Chase fretted as she folded first Violet and then Hyacinth into her arms. “I’ve never been one to shirk the duties of friendship, as you know. See you behave yourselves. I daresay you can’t get into much trouble in London in November, what with everyone out of town, but nevertheless, Iris and Lord Huntington are expecting you. And mind what I told you, Violet.”