My Elusive Countess

by Carolynn Carey

  At last he could endure Amanda’s silence no longer. “We shall be at Willow Place in less than five minutes,” he said.

  Amanda gave a small shudder, as though recalling her mind from some dark and lonely place. She moistened her lips and looked at him. “David is alive,” she said with fierce intensity. “I would have known if he were not. I would have felt it in my very soul.”

  Blackbourne bit back the condescending words of comfort that had trembled on his lips. He would not insult this courageous woman with platitudes. “Would you?” he asked at last, looking across at her. Her artificial smile had disappeared to be replaced by an expression of fury that startled him. Apparently Amanda was prepared to wrestle the angel of death on behalf of her son if the need should arise.

  Blackbourne was not proud of the small twinge of envy he experienced deep in his soul, but he was too honest with himself to deny having felt it. He could not imagine being blessed with a mother who would exhibit such fierce protectiveness on her child’s behalf. He blew his breath out in a long, silent sigh and swung the curricle into the Willow Place drive at a speed that would have sent most drivers and their carriages skidding into the ditch.

  “That is Doctor Utley’s gig,” Amanda cried as they neared the front of the house. “Thank heaven someone was wise enough to send for him.”

  Even before the curricle rolled to a halt, Blackbourne’s groom jumped from his platform to run to the horses’ heads. Blackbourne himself vaulted from his seat and hurried to lift Amanda down and set her gently on the ground. They turned toward the house together and were halfway up the front steps when Thomas dashed out to meet them.

  “David is improving, my lady,” he called as he skidded to a halt. “The doctor is puzzled by David’s malady, but he is hopeful of a full recovery. Doctor Utley is waiting in the front drawing room to talk with you.”

  Blackbourne watched closely as Amanda took a tremulous breath and released it slowly. He was ready to step forward and sweep her into his arms should she faint, but he soon realized that she had herself under control. She squared her shoulders and calmly accepted his escort up the remaining steps. A footman held the door open and both the butler and housekeeper hovered just inside. Amanda greeted both with a nod and the housekeeper immediately spoke.

  “My lady! Thank goodness you are here. David has been an excellent patient but I know he has been wishing for his mama. Still and all, he’s asleep at the moment and Nancy, my niece, is sitting with him. I called her in because she has had a good bit of experience with sickness and she is to be depended upon.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Grant,” Amanda said. “Since David is resting, I shall see the doctor first. Please have some refreshments sent to the drawing room. I am certain Lord Blackbourne would welcome something to drink after such a hurried journey.” She turned to Blackbourne. “Will you accompany me to speak to the doctor, my lord?”

  Blackbourne looked into Amanda’s expressive eyes and realized that she was asking for his emotional support. Feeling inordinately pleased that she would want him at her side, he smiled. “Of course I will accompany you.” He again offered his arm and walked with her to the drawing room.

  Blackbourne had expected Doctor Utley to be a fatherly gentleman, bearded and gruff. Instead, a handsome young man with a shock of blond hair jumped to his feet when Blackbourne and Amanda entered the room. Blackbourne frowned when Utley hurried to Amanda’s side and grasped her hands.

  “No need for that look of concern, my lady.” The doctor’s smile was wide and condescending. “David is a strong young lad and I have no doubt that he will soon be on his feet again.”

  Blackbourne looked down at Amanda’s hands, still in the firm grasp of the doctor, and realized that he was clenching his teeth in impotent fury. He had immediately formed an unfavorable impression of Utley and he did not approve of the doctor’s possessive attitude toward Amanda. “Good afternoon, Utley,” he drawled, a slight sneer tilting his lips. “Thomas told us that you are puzzled by David’s condition. If that is so, I fail to understand your optimism.”

  Color flared in the doctor’s fair face as he released Amanda’s hands and turned with compressed lips to confront Blackbourne. “I do not believe, sir, that I have had the pleasure of making your acquaintance.”

  Amanda made the introductions, then added, “Lord Blackbourne is David’s guardian.”

  Amanda’s explanation of Blackbourne’s position appeared to disgruntle the doctor rather than appease him. He compressed his lips even tighter, bowed slightly and turned his back on Blackbourne to address Amanda.

  “I will admit to being at a loss to explain all of David’s symptoms,” he said. “While it is obvious that he is coming down with a case of chicken pox, he has also exhibited extreme nausea and he was unconscious for several hours at the onset of his illness. Never have I seen anyone with chicken pox exhibit either of those problems.”

  “Perhaps we should call in a doctor from London,” Blackbourne interjected. “One who possesses some degree of experience.” He suppressed a grin when he saw Utley’s back stiffen.

  “Lady Willowvale must certainly do as she sees fit,” the doctor replied in a stilted tone. “She is, after all, the boy’s mother.”

  That Utley had placed a heavy emphasis on the word “mother” did not escape Blackbourne’s attention. Obviously the doctor was intimating that his role as guardian was secondary to Amanda’s role as a parent. Although Blackbourne could not in good conscience quarrel with the man’s reasoning, he would never allow the little coxcomb to get by with trying to diminish him. He raised his eyebrows, lifted his chin and glared down the length of his nose. “Ah, I perceive that you wish to educate me in my duties as a guardian to David. How kind of you. Unfortunately, you are too late. I’m already well aware of my responsibilities to my ward.”

  The doctor’s face reddened. “I have no doubt that you are, my lord.” He sketched a bow and shifted his gaze to study with apparent deep interest a painting of a hunt scene on the adjoining wall.

  Amanda stared in amazement at both men. Had she not known better, she would have thought each was jealous of the other. But that was ridiculous. She was barely acquainted with Doctor Utley, and Blackbourne would never exhibit possessive tendencies toward the daughter of a merchant. For some reason, she found the latter thought distinctly lowering, which was silly, she reminded herself. She had no desire for Blackbourne to feel anything toward her except, perhaps, respect.

  Besides, neither man should be behaving in a manner that resulted in her asking herself such meaningless questions when her thoughts should have been centered on her son. Inordinately irritated with both men, Amanda clenched her teeth. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I wish to see my son.” She turned on her heel and stalked toward the hallway.

  “I’ll accompany you,” Blackbourne said, catching up with her in two long strides and then falling into step beside her.

  “As shall I,” Doctor Utley added, bringing up the rear.

  David was still sleeping when Amanda slipped into his room. She nodded at Mrs. Grant’s niece, who had been seated in a chair drawn close to the bed. Nancy immediately stood, dropped a curtsy and tiptoed to Amanda’s side.

  “He’s sleeping peaceful, milady,” she said. “Poor little chap is breaking out bad now, but he don’t appear to be itching much yet.”

  Amanda thanked Nancy and then hurried to her son’s bedside and dropped into the chair Nancy had just vacated. Several bright red spots already marked David’s face, and Amanda mentally cringed to think what he would soon suffer. She herself had experienced a severe case of chicken pox and still bore a small pockmark upon her neck and another on her back.

  “Poor baby,” she murmured, laying her hand gently upon his forehead.

  David opened his eyes and slowly focused on Amanda’s face. “Mama,” he murmured groggily. He seemed about to slip back into sleep when Blackbourne stepped forward and David opened his eyes wider. “Good day, my lord,
” he said. “You aren’t going to take Thomas away, are you? Or my pony?”

  “Do you want Thomas to stay?” Blackbourne asked with a keen look.

  “Yes, please. He’s lots of fun and he held my head when I was sick. And he takes me to the stables every day to pet my pony. I named my pony Tommy after Thomas.”

  “Has Thomas allowed you to ride yet?”

  David stuck his lower lip out and shook his head. “I asked him and I asked Jenkins, but Thomas said that you wrote in your letter that I couldn’t ride yet, so he wouldn’t let me.”

  “Very good,” Blackbourne murmured absently. He had begun sniffing the air, a puzzled frown furrowing his forehead. Suddenly his brow cleared. Grinning wickedly, he turned to address Amanda. “May I have a word with David alone?”

  Amanda looked into Blackbourne’s face, trying to understand why he would wish to speak to her son without her being present.

  “Now see here,” Utley interjected. “The boy needs his rest and—”

  Blackbourne turned with a look of hauteur that effectively silenced the doctor. “I have no intention of disturbing David’s rest,” he said, then turned back to give Amanda a comforting smile. “I merely wish to confirm a suspicion that might help set his mother’s mind at ease.”

  The sparkle Amanda detected in Blackbourne’s eyes immediately allayed any fears she might have harbored. “Take as long as you wish, my lord,” she said, wondering why she trusted him so easily, so fully. But she did. She trusted him despite the fact that she had no logical reason to believe any friend of her husband’s was trustworthy in any way. He gave her a slight nod as though he appreciated her acceptance of his request, so she flashed him a quick smile and got to her feet. “Doctor Utley and I shall await you in the drawing room.” She kissed David’s brow before turning to lead the glowering doctor from the chamber.

  By the time Blackbourne joined Amanda and Utley in the drawing room, she had managed to convince the doctor that Blackbourne, as David’s guardian, possessed not only a right but also an obligation to see to his ward’s welfare. It was as well that she had done so, she realized, when Blackbourne entered the room with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

  “I’ve solved your medical mystery for you, Utley,” he drawled. “It was as clear as the nose on your face, had you chosen to use that appendage for the purpose for which it was intended.”

  Utley compressed his lips in irritation but his accompanying frown was clearly one of confusion. “I fear I do not follow your meaning, my lord.”

  “Rum,” Blackbourne said succinctly, after which he turned his back on the doctor and seated himself on the settee beside Amanda. Clasping one of her hands, he smiled wryly. “Do you have a groom named Jenkins who suffers from rheumatism?”

  “Why, yes. He is our head groom and getting on in years. But what does— Oh no! Has David been into Jenkins’ tonic?”

  Blackbourne grinned. “I fear so. When I asked him straight out, David explained that when he started feeling uncomfortable yesterday, he recalled hearing Jenkins say that his special tonic was a wonderful cure for aching joints. Having been visiting the stables recently, David had noticed where Jenkins stores his tonic, which, as you probably know, is pure rum. David apparently helped himself to several swallows. First his nausea and then his unconsciousness resulted from the lad being as drunk as a sailor.”

  Amanda bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud. She had a distinct feeling that Doctor Utley saw nothing humorous in the situation. In fact, when she risked a glance at him, she saw that he appeared decidedly shocked.

  “But how did you—?” Utley began, then stopped himself, obviously unwilling to ask any questions of the nobleman who had so quickly alienated him.

  Blackbourne replied anyway. “The smell, man, the smell. Have you never been around a drunk? Even their sweat has a distinctively acrid odor.”

  Utley pursed his lips. “I am pleased to say, my lord, that my association with drunkards is apparently much less extensive than yours.”

  “No doubt,” Blackbourne agreed amiably. He still held Amanda’s hand and he turned back to gaze into her eyes. “You are not to worry about this incident,” he said. “The lad is none the worse for his experience and may have learned a valuable lesson. In fact, he swears he will never touch another drop of liquor. While I fear that level of abstinence is probably too much to expect, he may well avoid overindulgence in the future.”

  “I do hope so,” Amanda said fervently as memories of Oliver’s drunken rages intruded. She forced her thoughts back to the present and even managed to smile when Doctor Utley approached her.

  “I must go, my lady. Do you wish me to return tomorrow?”

  Utley’s scowl clearly reflected his disgruntlement and Amanda did not feel up to trying to soothe him. Her head was beginning to feel light, no doubt as a result of the delicious tingling sensations that were creeping upward from her hand, which Blackbourne still held in a firm grip.

  Unfortunately, she knew she had little choice. Utley was the only physician for miles around and she couldn’t afford to alienate him. Suppressing a sigh, she reluctantly withdrew her hand from Blackbourne’s grasp and stood. “I would be most appreciative if you will look in on David tomorrow, Doctor Utley,” she said, flashing her most charming smile. “Knowing that you are nearby must always be a comfort to those of us who are fortunate enough to be able to call upon you.”

  The doctor’s face flushed with pleasure as he bowed over Amanda’s hand. “I shall always stand ready to serve you, my lady. Until tomorrow, then.”

  “I’ll see you out,” Amanda said quickly, hoping Utley had not heard Blackbourne’s muted snort of derision. She took the doctor’s arm and practically pulled him from the room.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Blackbourne waited impatiently for Amanda’s return. When he sat beside her on the settee and held her hand, he’d noted a nerve jumping in her cheek and was able to guess that she had kept hysteria at bay only through exercising a strong will. He wasn’t aware that his concern was written clearly on his face until Amanda stepped back into the room.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Are you upset because the good doctor appears less than enthralled with your charm?”

  He looked into her face and was inundated with a surge of tenderness such as he had never experienced before. Shaken, he forced a smile. “Devastated,” he replied. His tone was light but he watched her closely. “Furthermore, my conscience is paining me dreadfully to think that I’ve had so much more experience than the doctor in associating with drunkards.”

  “Poor David,” she said, then smiled. “He must have been miserable.” She was still smiling when her eyes began to fill with tears.

  Blackbourne had feared a breakdown was imminent. Amanda had been too tense for too long and now that her fears had been allayed, her body was betraying her. He also realized she had not expected this reaction. Even as tears welled and then rolled down her face, she gazed at him in bewilderment.

  “I-I do not know what is wrong with me, my lord,” she murmured, a blush bringing high color to her cheeks. “You will think me a pathetic widgeon.”

  He thought her delightful, brave and beautiful, but he did not tell her so. Instead, he silently opened his arms and she stepped into his embrace and laid her head against his chest.

  Amanda’s trust in him was almost Blackbourne’s undoing. Fighting back an inappropriate urge to sweep her into his arms and carry her away to a hidden bower where he could comfort her with every ounce of his being, he instead contented himself with thrusting a handkerchief into her hand and then gently cradling her trembling body while she wept upon his chest.

  She did not cry long, nor had Blackbourne expected her to. He had already seen enough of Amanda’s pride to realize she wouldn’t allow herself to luxuriate in emotions she perceived as being weak. And so he was not surprised when, after only a couple of minutes, she sniffed and raised her head.

  “I’m terribly em
barrassed,” she murmured, glancing up to meet Blackbourne’s gaze.

  “I don’t want you to feel embarrassed.” He lowered his lips toward hers. “I’ve found that anger is always to be preferred over embarrassment. You will feel better when I’ve given you cause to be furious with me.”

  Although Amanda’s eyes widened, she made no objection when Blackbourne gently touched her lips with his own. Nor did she protest when he pulled her against his chest and deepened their kiss. Her eyes drifted shut and a small sigh sounded deep in her throat.

  Blackbourne had ached to hold Amanda in his arms and kiss her with all the skill he knew he possessed. From the moment he first met her, he’d dreamed of coaxing her into responding to his lovemaking, of feeling her surrender to the pleasures he knew he could bring to her. But he had certainly not expected his own response to be so extreme. Never had a kiss seized his senses and sent them spinning out of control. What was it about this woman that touched him in ways he’d never experienced before?

  She leaned into him, clinging to his shoulders as though without his support she would have slipped, boneless, onto the floor. She opened her mouth to him, clearly welcoming the increasing passion of their kiss, and Blackbourne realized that her response was as inexpert as that of a virgin’s and, at the same time, as ardent as that of a woman in need.

  He pulled her closer, even as he wondered if he was losing his mind. Kissing Amanda was like nothing he could have imagined. She kissed as though she had never been kissed before. Contradictorily, she made him feel as though he had shared this experience with her on occasions too numerous to count.

  But for all his conflicting reactions, Blackbourne was convinced, without question, without reason, that Amanda had never before responded to any man as she was responding to him.

  His breath caught deep in his chest when he felt her embrace tightening. She pulled herself against him, flattening her breasts against his chest, as though she was trying to force his body to absorb hers, to make them one. And he had never wanted anything more in his life than to help her achieve her desires.