To Catch a Countess (13 page)

Alexander turned when she walked into the drawing room and smiled, savoring the sight of her walking toward him. Her delight in seeing him gleamed from the depths of her blue eyes.

“Lady Victoria, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” Alexander said, lifting her hand to his lips.

“My lord, you are a flatterer,” Victoria said, her lips turned up in a pleased smile.

“On the contrary, I enjoy the reputation of being an honest man.” Alexander produced a midnight blue velvet-covered box. “I requested that you wear blue because of my gift.”

Opening the box, Alexander smiled at her surprised expression. A sapphire and diamond necklace set in platinum lay on a bed of midnight blue velvet. With it was a sapphire and diamond bracelet.

“This gift seems excessive,” Victoria said, lifting her gaze to his.

“Darling, jewels are never excessive,” Aunt Roxie drawled. “If covering you in jewels makes Alex happy, then accept them with a pretty smile and a thank-you.”

“Turn around.” Alexander lifted the necklace out of the box and fastened the necklace. Next came the bracelet.

“You had better curb your spending,” Victoria warned him. “I have no wish to live in the poorhouse again.”

Alexander laughed. “Thank you for humoring me by accepting these gifts.”

“Thank you, Alex.” Victoria planted a chaste kiss on his lips.

“I did promise to drape you in diamonds,” Alexander said, slipping her hand through the crook of his arm.

“No pearls?”

“I will drape you in diamonds, place you in pearls, engulf you in emeralds, and soak you in sapphires,” Alexander promised her.

“Rubies?”

He gave her a devastating smile. “I intend to roll you in rubies.”

Escorting her to his coach, Alexander wondered why he hadn’t noticed how beautiful she was until the previous weekend, less than three weeks before their marriage. Probably, he hadn’t noticed her at all. He had been busy with more pressing matters like his estates, his three demanding former mistresses, and his half-sister’s impending return from Australia.

“I missed you,” Victoria said, as soon as the coach moved.

Alexander slipped his arm around her shoulder and drew her close, so close that he inhaled her vanilla scent. He said nothing. In truth, he wasn’t sure if she was sincere or practicing her wiles on him. He had missed her, too, but had no intention of telling her that and letting her get the upper hand. No woman was ever getting the upper hand with him again. Especially not his eighteen-year-old bride.

Victoria had hoped that he’d missed her, too. Perhaps her expectations had been too high. Alexander didn’t love her, after all. He hadn’t sought a union with her, merely accepted her aunt’s proposed match because he wanted to clear his conscience about what Charles Emerson had done to her family.

Would Alexander ever love her or harbor a fondness for her? Probably not. Who could love a stupid woman? True, no man looked for intelligence in a prospective mate, but no man would want to become known as the husband of the village idiot. How long would it be before Alexander realized his mistake in marrying her and sought comfort in the arms of a smarter woman?

“I always attend the opera on Thursday evenings because it relaxes me,” Alexander told her. “Rudolf and Samantha will meet us at the Wilmingtons’ ball. I must warn you that society will be curious about whom I have chosen as my countess. Do not let their stares bother you.”

“I wish you hadn’t told me that,” Victoria said. “I dislike attention on me and will worry about doing something wrong.”

“You don’t like surprises, either,” Alexander reminded her. “The surprises this week have all been pleasant.”

“You are correct, my lord,” Victoria said. “Especially if I discount being threatened, seduced, and almost spanked.”

“Are you fluent in Italian?” Alexander asked, changing the subject.

Good God, she wasn’t even fluent in English. Was she required to speak a foreign language? “I am unfamiliar with Italian.”

“Then I will translate for you,” Alexander said. “I know you have attended the opera with your aunt and uncle. You did know that opera is sung in Italian?”

“I never gave the matter my attention.”

“To what did you give your attention?”

“Intermission.”

Alexander laughed just as their coach halted in front of the Royal Opera House on Bow Street. Which is why, when a smiling Alexander climbed out of the coach, the crowd of aristocrats stared at the usually somber Earl of Winchester. Whispers swept through the theater’s lobby that the Earl of Winchester and Lady Victoria Douglas, his betrothed, appeared very much in love.

Victoria kept her gaze on Alexander as they walked through the crowded lobby and up the stairs to his box. He nodded greetings to many aristocrats but didn’t stop to speak to anyone, for which Victoria was grateful. She needed to accustom herself to the curious stares.

“People are watching us through their lorgnettes,” Victoria whispered, feeling uncomfortable. She despised being the center of attention as much as she hated surprises and church services.

“Intermission will be worse,” Alexander said, moving his chair close to her. He lifted her hand to his lips, murmuring, “Most will want an introduction.”

“People are watching you hold my hand,” Victoria whispered.

“I am performing for their scintillating edification,” Alexander said, his eyes bright with amusement. “Now then, sweetheart, tonight’s opera is The Marriage of Figaro by Mozart.” Alexander rested his arm on the back of her chair.

“He is the composer?”

“Mozart’s opera is the sequel to The Barber of Seville,” Alexander said as the orchestra began the overture. “Count Almaviva married Rosina, a young heiress, in spite of her guardian’s intentions to marry her. A man named Figaro assisted the count in his intrigue.

“When tonight’s opera opens, three years have passed. The count and countess are bored in their marriage. The count spends his days touring his estates and bedding as many pretty girls as possible.”

“The count is unfaithful to his wife?” Victoria asked. “Is that a proper subject?”

“We don’t see the count making love to those women,” Alexander whispered against her ear, his hand dropping to her bare shoulder and beginning a slow caress.

Victoria felt hot and cold at the same time. How could she follow the opera when his hand distracted her?

“The day before the story begins, the count called on Barbarina, the twelve-year-old daughter of his chief gardener,” Alexander said, his warm breath on the side of her neck making her nerves tingle. “He found his young page Cherubino there and dismissed him from his service. Cherubino loves all women, especially Countess Almaviva, to whom he appeals to intercede for him with the count.”

Victoria’s breath caught raggedly when Alexander’s fingers left her shoulder and stroked the side of her neck. When she turned her head to look at him, he said, “Until recently, the count has enjoyed the ancient custom of
le droit de seigneur
.”

“What is that?”

“
Le droit de seigneur
gives the lord the right to bed any of his dependents on her wedding night.” Alexander grinned when she whirled toward him in surprise.

“You mean that—?”

“The lord has the right to deflower any woman he desires on her wedding night,” Alexander said. “The lord expects obedience when he orders the woman to disrobe and lie on the bed. He would join her there and kiss every inch of her flesh from her neck to her breasts and the inside of her thighs. The lord would suckle her pink-tipped breasts, licking and nipping her aroused nipples.”

Victoria felt her breasts swelling. Her nipples ached for his mouth.

“The folds of flesh between her thighs would be wet,” Alexander continued, his voice husky. “She would spread her legs and invite the lord’s hardness into her body. Thrusting himself deep inside her, the lord would ride her until she melted and cried out her pleasure.”

Victoria closed her eyes and made a whimpering sound in her throat. Pressing his lips to her ear, Alexander asked, “Are you wet for me, Tory?”

“Yes.”

Victoria stared at the stage without seeing and heard the music without listening. Instead, in her mind’s eye, she watched the previous Sunday’s amorous tryst. She became aware of where she was when intermission began.

“You will charm everyone who begs an introduction,” Alexander said.

Victoria flashed him a smile filled with confidence, a confidence she didn’t feel. The only reason Alexander considered her charming was because he hadn’t yet realized how stupid she was.

And then society descended upon their box. Victoria decided the best course of action was to smile and say little. She managed to do that until she sensed a change in the atmosphere around her. Aristocrats in other boxes were turning to stare. Several had their opera glasses fixed on them.

Victoria saw two gentlemen and a dark-haired beauty of about twenty-five greeting Alexander. She felt his discomfort and glanced at his tense expression. Something was happening that she didn’t understand.

“Is this the child?” the woman asked, an insincere smile pasted on her face.

“Victoria, I present Lydia Stanley, the Marchioness of Tewksbury,” Alexander said, breaking etiquette, which required him to present her to the marchioness. He gestured to the two gentlemen, adding, “Lord Russell and Lord Somerset.”

“A pleasure to meet the young lady who has captured the earl’s hand in marriage,” Lord Russell said.

“The earl captured my hand in marriage.” Victoria glanced at the woman who appeared distinctly unhappy.

Though she said nothing impolite, Lydia Stanley let Victoria know by nuance of expression that Alexander and she were close friends. Intimately close.

“So, Alex, is this taste for redheads a passing phase?” Lydia Stanley purred. Before he could reply, she looked at Victoria and said, “Alex and I have known each other forever.”

“We must return to our seats now,” Lord Somerset announced, sounding nervous.

“I’ll see you soon,” Lydia Stanley said to Alexander.

Victoria gave her a sunny smile. “Meeting Alexander’s older friends is always a pleasure.”

Wearing an irritated expression, the Marchioness of Tewksbury turned away and left the box with her escorts. Victoria looked at Alexander who was grinning.

“Your tongue draws blood.”

“She insulted me first,” Victoria said, and gave him a mischievous smile.

Victoria wasn’t smiling inside, though. Something important had passed here, and she disliked the sensation of feeling her way in the darkness. Her sisters would know the gossip, and Victoria intended to ask them at the first opportunity.

The remainder of the opera passed uneventfully, though Victoria felt more gazes directed at her than the stage. Alexander’s proximity, his hand on her shoulder and his whispered translations, added to her distractions.

Reaching the Wilmingtons’ mansion on Upper Brook Street, Alexander slipped her hand through the crook of his arm and gave it a soothing pat. “Are you prepared for more scrutiny?” he asked, climbing the stairs to the second floor ballroom.

“You certainly know how to calm a lady’s nerves.”

Alexander leaned close to the majordomo and spoke in a low voice. Then the man announced in a clear, strong voice, “The Earl of Winchester and Lady Victoria Douglas.”

“If you look at me, Tory,” Alexander said, starting down the stairs, “You won’t see the hundreds of curious gazes on you.”

“How exceedingly conceited of you to believe that hundreds of people are interested in whom you are escorting.” Victoria glanced at the crowd. “Oh, they are watching.”

“I told you so,” Alexander whispered against her ear, looking to all the world like a man in love.

Victoria cast him a sidelong smile and crooked her finger at him. When he leaned close again, she whispered, “I dislike the words l-told-you-so unless I am the one using them.”

At the bottom of the stairs, well-wishers surrounded them, all of whom were Alexander’s acquaintances. Lord and Lady Wilmington, their host and hostess, stood in front of them.

“Congratulations,” Lord Wilmington said to Alexander, his gaze fixed on Victoria.

“Best wishes,” Lady Wilmington said to Victoria, her gaze fixed on Alexander.

“Rupert and Miriam, I present Victoria Douglas, my fiancée,” Alexander introduced them.

Victoria inclined her head. “I am pleased to meet you.”

‘‘You must save a waltz for me,” Lord Wilmington said to her.

“While you waltz with my husband,” Lady Wilmington added, tipping her head toward Alexander, “I will guard your interests.”

Victoria recognized the same look in Lady Wilmington’s gaze that Lydia Stanley wore when she looked at Alexander. “I must greet my sister and brother-in-law,” she said, wanting to escape these two as quickly as possible. “One must never keep royalty waiting, even if they are family.”

“Miriam and I will talk with you later,” Lord Wilmington said.

“That was well done,” Alexander whispered, escorting her through the crowd. “Watch out for Rupert. The man is a known womanizer.”

“His wife appears to be a manizer,” Victoria said. “Or is it only an Alexanderizer?”

“I dare say the Wilmingtons have an arrangement that allows them a certain degree of freedom.”

Victoria was shocked. “Do all married couples—”

“No.”

Alexander led Victoria toward Samantha and Rudolf. With them were Princes Viktor, Mikhail, and Stepan.

“How was the opera?” Samantha asked by way of a greeting.

“Quite enjoyable, but I believe more gazes were fixed on me than the stage,” Victoria answered. “I should have taken a bow.”

“Lady Victoria, I believe this dance belongs to me,” Alexander said, as the orchestra began playing a waltz.

With a shy smile, Victoria placed her hand in his. This was the first time they had danced together.

With his hand at the small of her back, Alexander drew her close against his body, and they swirled around and around the ballroom. Comfortable in his arms, Victoria followed his lead. The world and all its people faded away. Intoxicating her senses, only the man and the music existed for her. Victoria felt buoyant, happier than she had ever expected to be, until the Marchioness of Tewksbury and her group walked down the stairs to the ballroom.