To Catch a Countess (19 page)

Alexander and Victoria had passed a gloriously sensual two weeks. They made love, strolled about the grounds, picnicked near the river, and shopped in the village. On the only rainy day, Victoria had entertained her husband with a flute concert, and Alexander had tried unsuccessfully to teach her the game of chess . . .

The sun’s afternoon descent was casting long shadows by the time they reached Grosvenor Square. Victoria prayed that her husband’s sister, living three doors down, was not looking out the window to see their return.

“The Randolphs expect us at their ball tonight,” Alexander reminded her, as their coach halted in front of their mansion.

“I plan to wear my wedding gift and become the envy of all the ladies,” Victoria said.

“I’ll never understand the female mind.” Alexander gave her a quick kiss. “You are adorable, though.”

Several hours later, Victoria stared at her image in the cheval mirror. She had chosen a midnight blue evening gown with a low-cut, scooped neckline and off-the-shoulder sleeves. Her maid had brushed her red mane back and plaited it into a knot at the nape of her neck, but several errant wisps of fire had escaped and framed her face. The stark color and alluring simplicity of the gown accentuated her diamond collar, her alabaster skin, and her youth.

Victoria could hardly believe the sophisticated reflection in the mirror was herself. She felt like a different person from the naive girl who had flirted and fought with Alexander only a month earlier.

Snatching up a lacy shawl, Victoria hurried downstairs to her husband’s office adjoining the library. Alexander stood near the windows and turned when he heard her enter.

Victoria gave him a flirtatious smile as she crossed the room. She enjoyed his surprised stare when his hazel gaze dropped to her cleavage.

“I missed you.” Victoria stood on tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek. Inhaling his bay scent, she suffered the urge to disrobe and make love to him right there.

“Sweetheart, did I mention that you needed to wear clothing to the Randolphs’ ball?” Alexander asked, his lips quirking into a smile. “I dislike the idea of other men ogling what belongs to me.”

“Lydia Stanley and Diana Drummond wear gowns cut lower than this.”

“What Lydia Stanley and Diana Drummond wear is not my concern,” he said. “The gown reveals too much of your charms.”

“I’ll change the gown,” Victoria relented. “Selecting another gown with accessories will take time, though. Why don’t you go ahead without me?”

“Wear the gown,” Alexander said, accepting defeat. “The need to guard you from a legion of admirers precludes an enjoyable evening.”

“You will be the envy of all the other gentlemen,” Victoria said. “I wonder who will protect me from you, my lord.”

“Your husband is allowed to fondle as much as he desires,” Alexander said, draping the shawl around her.

A short time later, they stood at the top of the ballroom stairs at Lord Randolph’s mansion. The majordomo announced their arrival, “The Earl and Countess of Winchester.”

Alexander lifted her hand to his lips. “That ballroom is filled with wolves waiting to gobble you up.”

“The wolves have always kept their distance from me.”

“Those wolves behave differently toward experienced wives,” Alexander told her. “Promise me you won’t waltz with anyone but me.”

“I promise.”

After greeting their host and hostess, Alexander escorted Victoria to her family. Her aunt and her uncle stood with Prince Rudolf and Samantha.

“You gave all of London the slip,” Duke Magnus said, shaking Alexander’s hand and kissing Victoria’s cheek.

“Leaving town proved easier than avoiding unwanted guests,” Alexander said.

“What a lovely trinket,” Aunt Roxie said, her gaze on the diamond collar.

“Alex gave me this for a wedding gift,” Victoria told her.

“Well done, my lord,” her aunt said. “You could not have done better even if I had instructed you.”

“Marriage seems to agree with you, Tory,” Duke Magnus remarked.

“Yes, it does.” Victoria blushed when she glanced at her husband.

“Good, now the only problem is your lack of clothing,” the duke said, making everyone laugh. He turned to the earl. “How could you let her out of the house with that much flesh showing?”

Alexander shrugged. “I didn’t think making her change was worth the argument.”

“A husband does need to pick his fights carefully,” Duke Magnus said.

Alexander took his wife’s hand. “Dance with me.”

The orchestra was playing a waltz. Victoria stepped into her husband’s arms, and they swirled around the ballroom with the other couples. Victoria couldn’t help but admire her husband, who cut an imposing figure. He waltzed with sophisticated grace and held her close, more closely than the dance required.

“What do you think about Diana Drummond?” Victoria asked, noting her husband’s relatives’ arrival. She hadn’t considered that they would be invited.

Alexander gave her a curious look. “I don’t think of her at all.”

“Do you think she’s a good reader?”

“A good reader?” Alexander echoed, obviously confused by the question.

Victoria nodded.

“I suppose if she’s interested in my library,” he answered, “Mrs. Drummond must like reading.”

Or you.
“In general terms, what is your opinion of women who cannot read?”

“All women should learn to read,” Alexander answered. “If a woman lacked the necessary intelligence, then I would feel sorry for her.”

Pity.

Victoria despised pity more than stupidity. His answer disheartened her. She had considered confessing her handicap, but that was impossible now. She could never live with a man who pitied her. Too bad her disability hadn’t been physical instead of intellectual.

“What’s wrong?”

Victoria gave him a bright smile. “Traveling all day has wearied me.”

“We should have stayed home,” Alexander said, escorting her from the dance floor. “We’ll leave early.”

Lydia Stanley and her friends paused to greet everyone just as Alexander and Victoria returned to their group. “Have you seen any good operas lately?” Lydia asked Victoria, making her friends smile behind their fans.

Aplomb,
Victoria thought, aware that her aunt was listening.

“Actually, my husband has kept me busy day and night since our marriage,” Victoria told the other woman.

Lydia Stanley lost her smile.

Aunt Roxie stepped closer to Victoria and admired the diamond collar. “I love your taste in jewels,” she said to the earl. “That looks about fifty carats?”

“Sixty carats,” Alexander answered, unable to hide the laughter in his voice.

“If you will excuse us?” Lydia and her entourage walked away.

“Tory, may I have this dance?” Prince Rudolf asked, offering his hand.

The orchestra was playing a waltz. Victoria glanced at her husband, who nodded, and then accepted her brother-in-law’s hand.

“Do you need your husband’s permission to dance?” Rudolf asked, amused by her meek demeanor.

“I promised to waltz only with him,” Victoria explained, her eyes sparkling with merriment. “I suppose he considered you safe.”

Prince Rudolf laughed. “You aren’t in danger of falling out of that gown, are you?”

“Other ladies wear necklines lower than mine.”

“Other ladies are not Alex’s wife or my young sister-in-law,” Rudolf said.

“You sound like my husband.”

“Alex is a brilliant man.”

“Yes, he chose me for his wife,” Victoria said, her smile dazzling.

Prince Rudolf laughed. “If you don’t behave yourself,” he teased her, “we will banish you to the Island of Elbow.”

Victoria danced with Princes Viktor, Mikhail, and Stepan. She kept a sharp eye on her husband, though, who danced with his sister.

Harry Gibbs asked Victoria to dance next. A troubled expression appeared on her face when she noted Diana Drummond stepping onto the dance floor with Alexander.

“Don’t let my sister bother you,” Harry Gibbs said, his gaze following hers. “Diana is an incorrigible flirt who enjoys the chase.”

Victoria managed a sunny smile. “I would prefer she chase someone else’s husband.”

When the music ended, Harry Gibbs escorted her from the dance floor, but Lord Wilmington intercepted them before they could return to their group. “Lady Victoria, how pleased I am to meet you again,” Rupert Wilmington greeted her, lifting her hand to his lips. He nodded at Harry Gibbs, who drifted away, and gave his full attention to Victoria.

“A pleasure to see you again,” Victoria said, as the orchestra began another dance.

“Will you honor me with this dance?” Lord Wilmington asked.

Victoria had no desire to dance with Rupert Wilmington. She wanted to find her husband before he fell prey to the widow, but she felt uncertain how to refuse the gentleman without appearing rude.

“I have decided to sit this one out,” Victoria said, scanning the crowd for her husband. “Alexander and I have been traveling all day, and my weariness has finally caught up with me.”

“I understand,” Lord Wilmington said, catching her hand in his. “Stroll with me, and do call me Rupert.”

Victoria inclined her head. She could look for her husband as they strolled.

Nearing an alcove isolated from the dance floor by statuary, Lord Wilmington maneuvered her against the wall. He stepped in front of her, hiding her from the view of the other guests.

“I think this may afford us a small degree of privacy,” Lord Wilmington said, inching closer.

Victoria tried to step back but was trapped against the wall.

“Do you know how beautiful you are,” he said, towering over her.

“Actually, my husband tells me that every day,” Victoria said. Her expression remained placid, but the man’s nearness and height intimidated her.

“I would like us to become better acquainted.” Lifting his hand, Lord Wilmington reached to touch the exposed swell of her breasts.

A hand materialized from nowhere and caught Wilmington’s hand before it made contact with her skin. “I dislike anyone touching my property,” Alexander said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“Alex, I’ve been looking for you,” Victoria cried, a tremulous note in her voice. “I want to go home now.”

“Of course, sweetheart, you’ve had a long day.” Alexander nodded at Lord Wilmington before escorting his wife out of harm’s way.

“Thank God you found me,” Victoria said, clinging to his arm. “Rupert Wilmington is much too bold.”

“I warned you about wolves lying in wait for a succulent morsel like you,” Alexander said, steering her toward the door. He nodded at acquaintances but didn’t pause to speak.

“Why would he believe I wanted an association with him?”

Alexander glanced sidelong at her as they walked outside to await their carriage. “If you display your wares, darling, you will certainly need to deal with prospective buyers.”

“I don’t understand,” Victoria said.

“Your gown borders on indecent,” Alexander answered. “Rupert Wilmington mistakenly believed your display was meant to attract gentlemen.”

“That is the most preposterous statement I have ever heard,” Victoria said, climbing into the coach. “You are blaming the victim instead of the perpetrator.”

“Do not wear that gown again in public,” Alexander said, sitting beside her. “I dislike other men pawing my property.”

“I am your wife, not your property,” Victoria whispered against his ear, and flicked her tongue around it.

Tugging the bodice of her gown down to free her breasts, Alexander said, “These belong to me.” He cupped a plump breast, rubbing his thumb across the tip of her nipple, and lowered his head to kiss her.

*    *    *

Victoria grabbed her gloves, her reticule, and her parasol as soon as Alexander left the house to lunch with business associates at White’s the next afternoon. Passing her in-laws’ town mansion, she walked down Brook Street to New Bond Street, which brought her to Oxford Street. Soho Square and the Philbin brothers’ home lay two miles down the road.

Though the day was warm, Victoria’s step was sprightly. Perfumed scents from myriad gardens intoxicated her senses. Her excitement grew as she neared her destination.

Victoria could hardly wait to read. She wished the tutors had a real magic wand to wave at her and make her smart.

“Good afternoon, my lady,” Phineas Philbin greeted her at the door. “Come this way.” He led her into the front room where she had met them before.

“Good day to you,” Victoria greeted Barnaby, the younger brother.

“And a good day to you, my lady. Sit here at the table. The light from the window will suffice.”

Victoria sat and opened her reticule to produce a wad of notes, her entire monthly allowance from her husband. She set it on the table, saying, “This is the agreed-upon amount for the next month.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Phineas lifted the notes from the table and set them on a shelf.

“We must warn you that our strategies will take much time and effort on your part,” Barnaby said. “You may suffer some frustration as there is no timetable we can give you for mastering each of these strategies.”

“I am grateful for your help.”

“Only hard work will improve your skills,” Phineas added.

Victoria nodded. “I am ready to begin.”

“We would like you to read this paper to the best of your ability,” Barnaby said.

Victoria took the paper out of his hand and placed it on the table. With one finger pointed on each word, she read haltingly as if each syllable was an individual word. “At nine in the morn-ing, the dark-ing bog saw in the bark dog.” She looked up. “This makes no sense.”

“Listen to our first strategy,” Phineas said. “Whenever you see the letter b, pronounce it like the d in did. Try it.”

“At nine in the morn-ing, the dark-ing dog saw in the dark dog,” Victoria read again. “It still makes no sense.”

Barnaby smiled. “That is because we can only teach you only one strategy at a time. Three strategies are needed to read the sentence correctly.”

“What are the other three?”

“We cannot tell you until you learn the first strategy,” Phineas told her. “B is d as in did must become as involuntary as breathing.”