To Catch a Countess (17 page)

“How did Charles die?” Alexander asked, during a lull in the conversation.

“It was his heart,” Venetia answered. “There was nothing we could do.”

“Did Charles say anything important before he died?”

Victoria heard the hopeful note in his voice and knew what he wanted. Only Charles Emerson knew the secret of Alexander’s birth. His death could signal the end of Alexander’s search for the identity of his natural father.

“Father always regretted the angry words that passed between you,” Venetia was saying. “Other than that, the end came too quickly for any deathbed sentiments.”

The evening ended soon after that. Harry, Venetia, and Diana escorted them downstairs to the foyer.

“You must have dinner at my house,” Alexander invited them. “Once Victoria is settled, she will send you a note.”

“We’ll be looking forward to it,” Venetia said, her smile obviously forced.

The door closed behind them. Alexander leaned close and said, “I’m proud of the way you weathered the storm.”

“Darling, I appreciate the praise.” Victoria planted a kiss on his cheek.

*    *    *

When the door closed on their guests, Harry Gibbs turned on his sister. “Diana, that look bodes ill for Lady Victoria. If you cause trouble for them, I promise to send you back to Australia. Set your sights on an available gentleman. Do you understand?”

“Perfectly.”

He kissed his wife’s cheek. “I have some papers to look over. I’ll be along shortly.”

The two women watched him climb the stairs and disappear from sight. “I thought your brother was unattached,” Diana said.

“Don’t worry,” Venetia said. “You will be his countess. We will need to lie low until after their wedding.”

“After their wedding will be too late.”

“Marriages can be broken,” Venetia assured her. “I have a plan that will send that red-haired twit running home to auntie, and no one will suspect our involvement.”

“You are so deliciously wicked,” Diana said, looping her arm through her sister-in-law’s. “Tell me about this scheme.”

Chapter 8

“I’m so excited, I could swoon.”

Hearing giggles behind her, Victoria turned around and smiled at her sisters. Angelica and Samantha, along with the duke and the duchess, stood in the nave of Audley Chapel. Both sisters had agreed to stand as her matrons of honor. The duke would escort her down the aisle to the altar where Alexander would be waiting with his two groomsmen, Robert and Rudolf.

With the pre-nuptial social schedule, the days to her wedding had passed faster than the blink of an eye. Thankfully, her rivals for Alexander’s attention had backed away as the wedding approached, but Victoria felt certain the unrequited would gather at a later date.

Victoria wore her mother’s wedding gown. Embroidered with hundreds of seed pearls, the white silk gown had a squared neckline, long sleeves shaped like bells, and a fitted bodice with a dropped waist. She wore her diamond betrothal ring, which had been moved to her right hand, and carried a bouquet of orange blossoms. Diamond florets glittered in her fiery hair.

“I cannot believe my darling Tory is about to become a countess,” Aunt Roxie gushed.

“Well, my dear, she won’t become a countess unless you take your seat,” Duke Magnus said.

Aunt Roxie nodded and began to turn away. Victoria threw herself into her aunt’s arms and hugged her.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me,” Victoria said. “I love you.”

“Be happy, my darling,” her aunt said, touching her cheek. She left the nave to find her seat at the front of the church.

When the violinists and organist began playing, Victoria hugged each sister in turn. “I love you,” she told them. “I hope we will always remain as close as we are today.”

“Be happy,” Angelica said.

“Make that a double dose of happiness,” Samantha added.

Victoria turned to the duke. She crooked her finger at him and, when he leaned close, planted a kiss on his cheek. “Uncle, I thank you for taking me into your home and caring for me. I apologize for being difficult. If justice does exist, I will have a daughter exactly like me.”

“My home will be especially boring without your gaiety,” Duke Magnus said.

“You will live longer without me.”

“Are you ready, my dear?” the duke asked, offering his arm.

Victoria shook her head. “I thank you for finding a wonderful man to be my husband and promise to be the best wife ever. I intend to make Alex and you proud of me. Now I am ready, Your Grace.”

“Now I am not ready,” the duke said, his eyes filling with unshed tears. He took a deep breath, placed her hand on his arm, and moved to the head of the aisle.

Samantha started down the aisle. Behind her walked Angelica.

“I have a message from your aunt,” Duke Magnus whispered, leaning close. “Remember to walk through life with aplomb.”

Victoria giggled, drawing curious looks from the guests. “Tell Aunt Roxie that I will honor her considerable reputation, and society will know that I learned from the best.”

Hundreds of candles lit Audley Chapel, casting eerie shadows on the walls. White roses and blue forget-me-nots adorned the altar. A hundred guests, garbed in a rainbow of colors, filled the pews.

Victoria saw none of it. Her gaze and her smile were only for her bridegroom.

At the altar, Alexander took her hands in his and raised them to his lips. “Thank you for agreeing to become my wife, my countess, and the mother of my children.”

Surprising everyone, including her bridegroom, Victoria dropped him a curtsey fit for a king. “You honor me with your proposal.”

The wedding ceremony was surprisingly short. Within fifteen minutes, the bishop pronounced them husband and wife.

Alexander drew her into his arms. They kissed as if no one was watching.

*    *    *

The Duke of Inverary had spared no expense on the wedding breakfast for his youngest ward. There was an endless supply of tempting dishes from spinach nettle soufflé to baked salmon steaks and grilled Manx kippers to veal escalopes with mushrooms, cream, and sherry. Champagne and wines flowed from bottomless bottles, and a wedding cake fit for a queen was dessert along with fruits, nuts, and cheeses.

“I can’t decide if His Grace is celebrating my marriage or my departure from his guardianship,” Victoria whispered, making her husband smile.

Relaxing back in his chair, Alexander studied his wife’s lovely face. She was beautiful, enchanting, and passionate. Now she belonged to him. He could hardly wait until they took their leave of the wedding guests and secluded themselves in his Grosvenor Square mansion. He had already informed his majordomo that they were not receiving visitors for the next five days. No exceptions.

“What is this?” Alexander asked when the majordomo set a covered tray down in front of them.

“Her Grace wants both of you to place your hands on the top and remove the cover together,” Tinker informed them, and moved to the side.

Alexander put his hand on the knob, and Victoria placed her hand on top of his. Together, they lifted the silver cover. Hundreds of butterflies in every hue imaginable escaped their temporary confinement and flew upward, eliciting gasps of smiling astonishment from the wedding guests.

“I always wanted to do that,” Lady Roxanne said.

“Damn it, Roxie,” Duke Magnus said. “How will we get these blasted butterflies out of the house?”

The duchess gave her husband a feline smile. “Darling, the servants will use nets.”

The duke gave her a sour look. “You’ll need to pay a forfeit for my aggravation.”

“I can hardly wait,” the duchess drawled, making him smile.

Alexander stood and offered his wife his hand. Victoria rose from her chair. They made the rounds of their guests, and while Alexander played the smiling, besotted groom, Victoria played the blushing bride. And then they reached his sister’s table.

“You made the loveliest June bride I ever saw,” Harry Gibbs said, standing to kiss her hand.

“We thank all of you for attending our wedding,” Victoria said, forcing herself to smile.

“I wouldn’t have missed my only brother’s marriage to such a sweet child,” Venetia said.

“Alex, last night’s opera performance was simply superb,” Diana said. “Didn’t you think so?”

Victoria kept her expression placid. Her husband had accompanied another woman to the opera on the evening before their wedding? She hoped it wasn’t mentioned in the
Times
. Oh, she could hardly wait to learn to read. Then she would know the gossip when everyone else knew.

“My mind was fixed on other things last night,” Alexander was saying to the widow. He raised his bride’s hands to his lips. “I believe Tory and I can leave now without raising any eyebrows.”

“You didn’t mention you were going to the opera,” Victoria said, as they walked away. Keeping her temper in control sapped her strength, though.

“I attend the opera every Thursday,” Alexander reminded her. “You were busy preparing for today, and I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

“You escorted the widow?”

“I went alone,” Alexander said. “Diana showed up later. I had given her permission to use the box any time she wished.”

“You should have stipulated any evening but Thursday.” Victoria gave him a flirtatious smile. “I wouldn’t wish to surprise her one evening when your hands have gone exploring.”

Alexander laughed at that. Drawing her close, he planted a kiss on her temple, murmuring, “You smell delicious, like vanilla and jasmine.”

Though her expression was placid, Victoria’s thoughts were disturbed. Apparently, Diana Drummond had set her amorous sights on Alexander even though he was now a married man. Was that what Rudolf had meant when he said that men wanted experienced women as their mistresses? She prayed her husband would prove as true to her as she would be to him.

And therein lay the problem. Alexander hadn’t married her for love but merely accepted her aunt’s proposed match as a way to make amends for Charles Emerson’s crimes against her family.

After they had spoken to each of their guests, Alexander and Victoria left the wedding breakfast for his Grosvenor Square mansion. Victoria could hardly wait to be alone with her husband, who had awakened the passion in her. That he hadn’t wanted to linger with their guests heartened her, and she felt certain there was a good chance she could make him love her.

A tall, dignified-looking man opened the door of the mansion. Unexpectedly, Alexander scooped her into his arms and carried her across the threshold. Flicking a glance at the majordomo, Alexander set her on her feet and said, “Your aunt made me promise to do that for luck.”

“One can never have too much luck.” Victoria realized that all of her husband’s servants were lined up in the foyer to greet their new mistress.

“Victoria, I present Bundles, my majordomo, and Meade, my valet.” Alexander gestured to an older woman. “Mrs. Hull, my cook and housekeeper, and her daughter Polly, who will be your lady’s maid.”

“I am pleased to make your acquaintances,” Victoria said.

Alexander turned her to the line of footmen, maids, and coachmen. “This is Lady Victoria, the Countess of Winchester.” His announcement met with polite applause. He nodded at the majordomo.

“Return to your duties,” Bundles instructed them. Everyone except the majordomo and the cook hurried away. The majordomo turned to Victoria, saying, “I am especially glad to welcome you to your new home. Mrs. Hull and I have served here since your father’s time. We recall you as a child and were saddened to learn of his lordship’s and his lady’s passings.”

“I cannot remember living here,” Victoria said, “but you make me feel as if I’ve come home.”

“Come, my love.” Alexander put his arm around her, guiding her toward the stairs. “Let’s make ourselves more comfortable. I’ll take you on a tour of the house later.”

Suddenly, Victoria felt overwhelmed by the fact that she was the mistress of this mansion and others outside London. She bit her bottom lip with her teeth and thought how much she needed to learn. Living in the cottage hadn’t prepared her for this responsibility, and her inability to read could only make the situation worse.

“What’s wrong, Tory?” Alexander asked, escorting her down the third floor corridor to their bedchamber.

“I have no experience running a household,” Victoria admitted, her voice no louder than a whisper. “I feel stupid.”

Alexander pulled her against his side and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head. “Mrs. Hull will help with whatever you don’t know.”

Her bedchamber was bigger than the whole cottage where she grew up. On the far side of the room near an enormous bed was the hearth. Two arched windows overlooked the rear gardens. Chippendale furniture had been painted white and gold, and the canopied bed fitted with a red, gold, and cream coverlet and bed curtains. A cheval mirror stood in one corner near the bed; various occasional tables, chairs, a highboy, and an upholstered settee were positioned around the chamber.

“That door leads to your dressing room where Polly is finishing unpacking your gowns,” Alexander told her. “This door connects to my chamber.”

Victoria peered inside. His bedchamber was similarly appointed, but the furnishings were a dark mahogany and the bed gigantic.

“Polly will help you with your wedding gown.” Alexander dropped a kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

When he disappeared into his bedchamber, Victoria turned toward the dressing room. With Polly’s assistance, she removed the wedding gown and then dismissed the girl.

Victoria chose the sheerest ivory nightshift, a gown fashioned for enticement rather than sleep. The gown fastened at the shoulders with ribbons of lace, making it easy to remove.

Returning to the bedchamber, Victoria removed the diamond florets from her hair. Then she moved to the cheval mirror to check her appearance, a rueful smile touching her lips when she saw how immodest the gown was. A moment of insecurity assailed her, and she lifted her hand to look at her gold and diamond wedding band.

“Victoria?” Dressed in a black silk bed robe, Alexander crossed the chamber and wrapped his arms around her. “I missed you.”