My Elusive Countess

by Carolynn Carey

  “Mr. Clemmons.” Lady Sarah clung to Anthony’s arm. “You are just in time to settle an argument. Lord Pimperson has been trying to convince me that the Countess of Freemerry’s house party was held in July last year, but I distinctly recall that it was in June. You were present. Do you not agree that it was in June?”

  Within seconds, Anthony had been absorbed into the group, and Amanda and Rebecca were left standing alone. Biting her lip, Amanda grasped Rebecca’s hand and pulled her toward a small grouping of chairs located behind a screen of potted plants. She would not force her presence upon anyone, and it was obvious that Lady Sarah and her friends had no desire to welcome Amanda into their midst.

  Intent on reaching her destination as quickly as possible, Amanda was not aware of Lord Appelton’s presence until he gently grasped her elbow. “May I accompany you to whatever destination you have in mind, Lady Willowvale?” he asked.

  Amanda looked into Appelton’s face. His crooked smile and twinkling eyes immediately put her at ease. “Why yes,” she said, returning his smile. “That is, if you’re willing to hide behind those potted palms, because that’s my intended destination.”

  “I can think of only one reason a beautiful woman would wish to hide. Is some scoundrel annoying you, my lady? If so, point the rascal out to me, and I shall instantly toss him over the nearest balcony.”

  Amanda felt her tension ebbing as Appelton continued to grin at her. His gaze was open and admiring without being amorous. Never, Amanda realized, had she felt as comfortable in the company of a man who was a member of the nobility.

  “I believe you have met my friend, Rebecca Thornton,” Amanda said.

  “Yes, indeed. Good evening, Miss Thornton.” Appelton turned to Rebecca and bowed over her hand. “What an attractive turban you are sporting tonight. That particular shade of purple reminds me of violets. May I escort you ladies to a chair?”

  Rebecca graciously inclined her head and took Appelton’s proffered right arm, while Amanda placed her hand upon his left arm. Within seconds he had guided them to a row of chairs set against the wall and seated them side by side while he took the chair to Amanda’s left.

  “I have been hoping to see you again, Lady Willowvale,” Appelton said. “I wished to inquire about your little boy’s health.”

  “He is doing well,” Amanda responded, delighted that someone in London besides Rebecca was actually interested in David’s well-being. Blackbourne certainly had not bothered to inquire. “David’s tutor writes a brief missive to me every day to keep me informed. Apparently David’s case of the chicken pox was unusually mild.”

  “A fortunate lad,” Appelton said. “When I suffered from that particular malady, I looked like one large, ugly pock with a bit of skin showing around the edges.”

  “As did I,” Amanda replied, laughing. “How old were you?”

  “Ten,” Appelton replied. “And you?”

  “Also ten.”

  “I knew we had a great deal in common,” Appelton exclaimed with feigned delight. “Shall we compare other childhood illnesses?”

  “By all means,” Amanda replied, laughing. Then, with twinkling eyes, “I suspect my childhood maladies were much more serious than yours.”

  “Never,” Appelton declared, throwing up his hands in a gesture of denial. “No one suffered more than I, and if you do not believe me, I shall call upon my mother to bear witness on my behalf. I assure you that she is extremely experienced in detailing the horrors of my childhood illnesses.”

  Amanda was laughing, her lovely eyes sparkling with delight, when Blackbourne entered the Clemmons’ drawing room and saw her seated against the far wall. She looked unusually beautiful tonight, attired as she was in a dark sapphire gown with small puffed sleeves and a square neckline. A single strand of pearls lay against the white of her throat, emphasizing the pureness of her skin. Blackbourne clenched his teeth against the wave of desire that swept him. He clenched them even harder when he realized she was laughing at something the Earl of Appelton had said.

  “You’re late, Garath,” Judith Clemmons murmured, stepping to Blackbourne’s side and grasping his arm. “You are also scowling. If you’re not careful, everyone will assume you don’t wish to be here.”

  Blackbourne continued to scowl. “Good evening, Judith. I was not aware that the Earl of Appelton is a friend of your family’s. Do you often invite him to your routs?”

  Blackbourne felt Judith’s hand tighten on his arm and looked down into her face. For the first time in his recollection, Judith appeared unsure of what to say. “Well?” he prompted.

  Judith stopped gnawing on her lip and took a deep breath. “Appelton was not invited. However, your aunt Cordelia was.”

  “You mean—” Blackbourne began, then stopped. His lips tightened. “Where is my aunt?”

  “She is in one of the other drawing rooms. I’m sorry, Garath. I—”

  Blackbourne interrupted her. “There is no reason for you to apologize for my aunt’s behavior, Judith.”

  “But this is so unlike her,” Judith objected. “Your aunt has always observed the proprieties, as you know. In fact, half of the people in the ton are afraid of offending her sense of what is proper. Do you know what I think, Garath?”

  “No, brat, but I am sure you are about to tell me.”

  “I believe that Lord Appelton is pursuing Lady Willowvale and that Lady Cordelia is helping him. But if that is the case, I cannot understand your aunt’s motives.”

  Blackbourne said nothing. He liked Judith, but not enough to confide in her that his aunt was probably hoping to ruin Amanda to retaliate against him. He was beginning to think he had never fully understood the depth of his aunt’s hatred toward him.

  “Excuse me, Judith,” he said, forcing a smile. “I wish to extend greetings to Lady Willowvale.”

  “I shall accompany you.” Judith clutched Blackbourne’s arm as though fearing he would try to shake her off. “Anthony was supposed to keep an eye on Lady Willowvale and Miss Thornton and to ensure that they were introduced to our guests. I don’t know what became of him, but I would not like to be in his shoes when Mama realizes that he has abandoned those two ladies to the likes of Appelton.”

  “Nor would I,” Blackbourne responded with a rueful grin, recalling how scathing the generally mild-mannered Mrs. Clemmons could become when one of her children had misbehaved.

  He forced himself to smile at the numerous acquaintances who hailed him and Judith as they crossed the crowded room, but he paused only long enough to nod occasionally. He did not understand his own sense of urgency. Amanda was a grown woman and a widow, he told himself. She should know how to look after her own interests.

  But she kissed like an innocent, his heart reminded him.

  On the other hand, innocence could be feigned, his mind insisted.

  Not to that degree, his heart responded. Never to that degree.

  Blackbourne and Judith arrived at their destination in time to hear Appelton asking Amanda to accompany him for a drive through the park the following afternoon.

  “Lady Willowvale is already promised to me for tomorrow,” Blackbourne interjected, flashing Appelton a wolfish grin. “We were planning to go this afternoon but were forced to postpone our drive until tomorrow.”

  He quickly transferred his gaze from Appelton’s face to Amanda’s. Curious to see how she would handle his blatant lie, he stared into her eyes as though daring her to contradict him.

  Amanda suppressed a gasp as she looked at Blackbourne. She had not realized that he was in the house, let alone that he was standing just to her right. He towered over her, appearing grim and dangerous and unbelievably handsome in his stark black-and-white evening clothes. She felt her heart speed up and, irritated with her susceptibility to his presence, immediately compressed her lips. “I thought our drive had been postponed indefinitely, my lord.”

  Blackbourne raised his eyebrows. “Did you? I wonder what gave you that idea.”

&nbs
p; “A slight misunderstanding, obviously,” Rebecca interjected before turning to Appelton. “You must call on us in Berkeley Square some afternoon, my lord. Perhaps you and Amanda can go for a drive another day.”

  “Of course,” murmured Appelton, who had been watching Blackbourne with ill-concealed unease. He stood and smiled at Amanda. “I fear I have monopolized your charming company too long, my lady. If you will excuse me…” He turned and disappeared into the crowd.

  Judith, who had observed the interchange between Blackbourne and Amanda with narrowed eyes, immediately lowered herself into the chair on Rebecca’s right, leaving the chair beside Amanda vacant. Blackbourne seated himself without waiting for an invitation.

  Turning immediately toward Amanda, Blackbourne regarded her with a piercing gaze. “I want you to stay away from that man,” he said softly.

  Amanda gaped at Blackbourne for several seconds, then pulled a deep breath into her lungs. She was growing exceedingly tired of Blackbourne’s inconsistency. If he was not avoiding her, he was insisting that she drive out with him, then canceling their plans, and then reinstating them, all without so much as a by-your-leave. Now he presumed to give her orders about the company she should keep. She lifted her chin and glared down her nose at him. “I perceive that you are suffering under a misapprehension, my lord,” she said. “Allow me to refresh your memory. You are my son’s guardian. You are not mine.”

  Apparently aware that he had not handled the situation well, Blackbourne smiled sheepishly, an act that did nothing to allay Amanda’s suspicions. If anything, she trusted his motives even less when he acquiesced a little too quickly for her peace of mind. Still smiling, he continued. “You are correct, of course, in pointing out that I am not your guardian. But as a friend, I feel it is my duty to warn you that Appelton is a dangerous man.”

  Amanda’s eyes widened. For Blackbourne to complain about Appelton being dangerous, she reflected, was analogous to a wolf criticizing a kitten for being a carnivore. Never once had Appelton frightened her. Not once had he made her head swim, her knees turn to jelly, or her heart flutter like a trapped bird. He had treated her with consideration and kindness, not with condescension and contempt.

  “Did you hear me, Amanda?” Blackbourne asked at last. His smile had been replaced by a frown.

  “Yes, I heard you, my lord,” Amanda responded. “You wish me to avoid Appelton, the gentleman to whom your aunt introduced me and the man she named as one of your closest friends. Perhaps I am lacking in understanding, but—”

  “One of my closest friends?” Blackbourne interrupted. “Did my aunt actually tell you that?”

  Amanda, seeing amazement written clearly in Blackbourne’s eyes, stumbled to a halt. Frowning, she tried to recall Lady Cordelia’s words. “I could be mistaken, of course, but I am almost positive she told me the earl is one of your friends.”

  “Could she have referred to Appelton as a friend of her nephew?”

  “I suppose so,” Amanda admitted. “But I do not see the distinction. You are her nephew, are you not?”

  “Lady Cordelia was referring to my half brother.”

  Amanda stared at him for a full ten seconds before she spoke again. “I was not aware that you have a half brother.”

  Blackbourne smiled grimly. “I don’t anymore,” he said, rising. “I trust you will excuse me so I can find Mrs. Clemmons and say my goodbyes. I have another engagement this evening and must leave now. I will call for you tomorrow at four thirty. Good evening.”

  He turned and walked away before Amanda could respond. “There goes the most infuriating man I have ever had the misfortune to meet,” she muttered, turning to address Rebecca. She had forgotten that Judith Clemmons was seated on Rebecca’s right.

  But Judith merely smiled and nodded her agreement. “Show me a man who isn’t,” she said. “Speaking of infuriating men, here comes my brother. I see he has finally shaken off Lady Sarah, who tends to cling to him like a barnacle. He is entirely too polite to give her the set-down she deserves.”

  Amanda could not suppress a smile when she looked up at Anthony and realized his expression resembled that of a scolded puppy. Taking pity on him, she smiled more broadly and asked him to be seated. Within half an hour, at least half of the people in the room had made their way over to be introduced to Amanda and Miss Thornton, and both ladies were soon the center of a small but enthusiastic group of new acquaintances, both male and female.

  “A very pleasant evening, all in all,” Rebecca stated when she and Amanda were at last in their coach and on their way back to Berkeley Square.

  “Yes, very,” Amanda agreed absentmindedly. She was pleased that she was finally being accepted by the ton. But her victory, she admitted privately, was a hollow one. She would have been much more pleased had Blackbourne stayed long enough to witness her success. Not, she quickly told herself, that she cared what Blackbourne thought of her, but he had, after all, been the one who had initiated her foray into society. He would surely be pleased for David’s sake that his campaign was succeeding.

  Chapter Nineteen

  On an afternoon two weeks following the Clemmons’ soirée, Blackbourne slumped in the chair behind his desk and glared at the mound of paperwork awaiting his attention. He should be working, but his thoughts insisted on wandering. More specifically, they insisted on straying, with Amanda as their inevitable goal.

  Muttering an expletive, he pushed back from his desk, stood and strode to the sideboard where he poured himself a drink. Trying not to think of Amanda was wearing him down, so he decided to surrender to his mind’s will and allow it to dwell on the woman who had somehow insinuated herself into his every thought. The root of his problem, he realized, was that nothing regarding his intentions toward Amanda had gone as he had originally planned.

  When he had first tracked Amanda down in the old dower house, everything had seemed so simple. He wanted her. Therefore he would seduce her. Now their relationship had become more complicated, in large part because he was almost convinced that Amanda was not the shrew that Oliver had painted her.

  On the other hand, he was afraid to believe that she was the decorous and chaste lady many in the ton now seemed to consider her. In fact, Amanda seemed to be growing more popular with every passing day. A small court of admirers had begun dancing attendance on her. None was considered the catch of the Season, but even Blackbourne was forced to admit that Sir Sidney Glasspoint, Lord Aftonville, and Mr. Horace Smotherton were staid and worthy gentlemen. He might even have been able to lay to rest the last of his doubts about Amanda’s virtue had she appeared less enthralled with the Earl of Appelton.

  But Amanda had blatantly ignored Blackbourne’s edict that she avoid Appelton. They drove together in the park, attended the opera together and even danced the waltz at the Duchess of Parcell’s ball.

  To give Amanda credit, Blackbourne had to admit that she did not behave inappropriately toward Appelton in public. She was never seen in his company without a chaperone, nor did she ever dance with him above twice in one evening. Still, Blackbourne could not help noticing that she laughed frequently when she was with Appelton. More frequently, in fact, than she did around anyone else, including him.

  Having decided he could not trust his aunt’s motives, Blackbourne had been vigilant in escorting Amanda about town. He had invited her for frequent drives in the park. He had taken her on an excursion to Vauxhall Gardens with a party that included Anthony and Judith Clemmons. He had even—after Amanda had expressed an interest—escorted her and Rebecca to Week’s Mechanical Museum where both ladies enjoyed viewing the musical clocks and mechanical animals.

  At first Blackbourne had told himself he was merely watching out for Amanda so she would not overstep the bounds of what the ton would consider acceptable. But he soon came to realize that he looked forward to Amanda’s company. Their conversations ranged from the writings of Blake to the future implications of recent improvements to the phosphorous match.

&
nbsp; At the same time, he could not suppress his growing resentment that she continued to associate with Appelton. On two occasions following the Clemmons’ rout, he had cautioned Amanda about the earl, but each time she had brushed aside his warnings. On the second occasion, she had grown defensive, saying she valued Appelton’s company because she had grown to think of him as an older brother.

  Blackbourne’s concern multiplied a hundredfold when Amanda labeled Appelton’s behavior toward her as “brotherly”. Blackbourne knew Appelton too well to believe he would ever be content in a brotherly role. It was small wonder, he decided, that his concern for Amanda was now tainted with suspicion, not only toward Appelton but also toward Amanda herself.

  Cursing his body’s irrepressible longing for Amanda, Blackbourne downed one glass of brandy and immediately poured himself another. He had hoped to take her for a drive this afternoon, but she had already made plans to drive out with Mr. Smotherton. At least he would see her tonight at the Countess of Everston’s ball.

  * * * * *

  Immediately after greeting his hostess that evening, Blackbourne began scanning the room for Amanda. The dancing had already begun, and although dozens of couples floated across the floor to the strains of a waltz, Blackbourne had little trouble locating the particular lady he sought. Amanda’s hair, piled on top of her head, glittered gold in the light of the hundreds of candles.

  She looked particularly beautiful that evening in a low-cut gown of azure crape over a slip of white satin. The bottom of the skirt, following current styles, had been made wide and decorated with stiff rouleaux of material. Blackbourne drew a deep breath and wished to hell he had chosen a different ton activity for the evening. Watching Amanda whirl about in another man’s arms was not his idea of a pleasant pastime.