To Catch a Countess (22 page)

“Lady Victoria, there is a woman in the foyer demanding to speak to you.” Bundles drew her attention as he hurried across the garden. “The woman brought an older woman and a girl with her.”

“That’s my sister,” Darcy cried. “Those fairies and pixies do fast work.”

Victoria glanced at the five-year-old and refused to believe what her instincts were screaming. It could not be what she was thinking.

“Come, Darcy.” Victoria took the girl’s hand. “Let’s see who has come to visit.”

With the majordomo following in their wake, Victoria and Darcy returned to the house. Walking into the foyer, Victoria knew she would be replaying the scene she had with Suzette.

The woman was blonde and exceptionally beautiful. In an instant, Victoria compared herself to the woman and found herself lacking. She shifted her gaze to the child, a blond girl, who appeared around five years, and an older woman, who perched on the bench where Pinky and Darcy had sat.

“Are you the Countess of Winchester?” the woman asked.

“Yes.”

The woman dropped her gaze, boldly inspecting Victoria. When she lifted her gaze again, the blonde smiled as if she also found her lacking.

Victoria stiffened at the unspoken insult. “Mister Bundles hires the scullery maids.”

“I am an opera dancer not a maid,” the woman said, her voice haughty.

“How may I help you?”

“Tell His Lordship that Maeve is returning one of his gifts. The opera dancer gestured to the girl. “His daughter Fiona.” At that, the woman quit the foyer.

Victoria didn’t bother to chase after her. Instead, she crossed the foyer to the girl, who clung to her nanny. Crouching down at eye level with the child, she said, “Your name is Fiona.”

The girl nodded.

“Fiona means light hair.” Victoria stared into hazel eyes that resembled her husband’s.

“How old are you?”

“Five.”

Victoria glanced at Bundles, who appeared scandalized. “And who is this woman holding your hand?”

“Nanny Hartwell.”

“Do you know who lives in this house?” Victoria asked.

Fiona shook her head.

“Your daddy lives here,” Victoria said. “I am your daddy’s wife, and that girl is your sister.”

“My wish came true.” Darcy began to dance around the foyer, chanting, “Fairies and pixies, I love you.”

“Come here.” When Darcy approached, Victoria said, “Fiona, I present your sister Darcy, who is also five-years-old.”

Fiona smiled at her sister. Encouraged, Darcy hugged the other girl and kissed her cheek.

“Do you like vanilla pudding with strawberries?” Victoria asked.

“Yes, she does,” Darcy answered for her sister.

Victoria stood then and offered her hand to the older woman. “Welcome to our home.” She turned to the majordomo. “Send a footman to bring their bags upstairs. Then serve us vanilla pudding with strawberries in the dining room. Tell Pinky to help Hartwell settle.”

Victoria and Darcy sat on either side of Fiona. Darcy kept up a steady stream of chatter.

“Mama Tory is daddy’s wife,” Darcy told her sister. “She is our fairy godmother and even has a magic wand that makes wishes come true. I wished for a sister, and then you came. If you are a good girl, Mama Tory will teach you how to use the magic wand. Isn’t that exciting?”

Darcy stopped eating her pudding to give her sister a sideways hug. “I am very happy you’ve come to live with us.”

Fiona gave her sister a shy smile.

Victoria looked over her shoulder toward the doorway. Alexander stood there. His expression said he was trying to gauge her reaction to Fiona.

“My lord, come and see who has joined our domestic tranquility,” Victoria called, a sarcastic edge to her voice.

Alexander crossed the dining room but paused to greet his daughters. “Welcome home, Fiona.” He kissed the crown of her blond head. Next he kissed Darcy. “I am glad that you have met at last.”

Alexander glanced at the majordomo. “Deliver the girls to their nannies and close the door when you leave.” He sat down beside Victoria, gave her a sidelong glance, and ate the remains of his daughters’ pudding.

“You have nothing to say?” Victoria asked.

“I’m eating pudding because I don’t know what to say,” Alexander admitted. “Except, those affairs happened long before I met you.”

“Two women gave birth to your children in the same year,” Victoria said. “How do you explain that?”

“Virility?”

“This is no joking matter.”

“You are correct,” Alexander said, “but what has been done cannot be undone. I cannot fault you for being upset.” He lifted her hand to his lips and planted a kiss on it. “I had a wild year when I was twenty-three. Two mistresses informing me of my impending fatherhood was a bucket of cold water tossed in my face. I mended my ways and never took a mistress again.

“I support them financially, of course. When I learned Charles Emerson wasn’t my father, I understood how heartbreaking it was never to know your own father. I began to visit my daughters a few times a year. I hope you will forgive me.”

“You owe your daughters an apology, not me.”

He nodded in agreement. “I will apologize when they are older.”

Victoria stared at him for a long moment. “Are there any more?”

“No, I swear. Darcy seemed rather pleased with her sister.”

“Darcy believes the magic wand worked a miracle,” Victoria said, rolling her eyes.

“Perhaps it did.”

“The only wand that works is your you-know-what,” she snapped.

“You are angry.”

“As you said, a husband and wife belong to each other, no matter what troubles may come,” Victoria reminded him, her gaze softening on him. “I have enough love for Darcy and Fiona as well as for any children we make.”

“Thank you, Victoria.” Alexander drew her out of her chair and onto his lap. Cupping her chin, he brought her face close and pressed a tender kiss on her lips. “You are the most forgiving woman I have ever met and as beautiful inside as you are outside.”

*    *    *

Two weeks of domestic tranquility,

Victoria went downstairs to breakfast on the fourteenth morning after Fiona’s arrival. Even Venetia and Diana had kept their distance, though Alexander and she had seen them at various functions. And the opera, of course.

Victoria smiled at the sight that greeted her in the dining room. Alexander sat at the table with his breakfast and the morning
Times
in front of him, a daughter on either side.

“Good morning,” Victoria called, heading for the sideboard where Bundles stood at attention.

“Good morning,” the three at the table returned her greeting.

“Good morning, Bundles.”

“Good morning, my lady.”

Victoria helped herself to a plain scone and a cup of black tea. Then she sat across the table from her husband and stepdaughters.

Alexander looked up from his newspaper, gave her a smile, and dropped his gaze to her plate. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Alexander returned his attention to the newspaper.

“Daddy, will you butter my scone?” Darcy asked, apparently unhappy with his inattention.

“Of course, sweetness.” Alexander cut the scone and buttered each half.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“You are welcome, sweetness.” Alexander resumed reading.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Fiona?”

“Will you butter my scone?”

“Of course, precious.” Alexander cut her scone and buttered each half.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“You are welcome, precious.” Again, Alexander resumed reading.

“Daddy?” Victoria said in a sultry drawl. “Will you butter my scone, too?”

“I’ve been looking forward to buttering your scone.” Alexander gave her a devastatingly wicked smile, smothered the scone with butter, and pushed the plate toward her.

Keeping his gaze captive to hers, Victoria lifted the scone to her lips. She flicked her tongue out and slowly licked the butter off the scone.

“Daddy, Mama Tory is playing with her food,” Darcy said.

“Mama Tory is naughty,” Fiona added.

“If you are naughty, Mama Tory,” Alexander said, “I will need to take you upstairs.”

Victoria laughed at that. Darcy and Fiona giggled, making their father smile.

“Breakfast was always a peaceful affair, but I can see that has changed forever.” Alexander resumed reading the paper. A moment later, he pushed the paper toward Victoria. “Read that.”

Caught off guard, Victoria felt her stomach lurch and stared at the paper as if it was a poisonous snake. “I—I don’t have my spectacles with me.”

“You never have your spectacles handy when you need them,” Alexander said. “Listen to this. ‘A recently married peer of the realm has had two of his past indiscretions dropped on his doorstep’.”

“How could the reporter know that?” Victoria asked, her expression mirroring her surprise.

Alexander shrugged, his gaze on the article. “I suppose servants gossip with other servants who, in turn, gossip with other servants.”

“What is indiscretion? “ Darcy asked.

“Indiscretion is getting caught doing something you shouldn’t,” Victoria answered.

“Like stealing a cookie and having crumbs on your mouth?” Fiona asked.

Flicking a glance at her husband, Victoria smiled at the girl and said, “Yes, dear, that is correct.”

Later that afternoon, Victoria sat on the stone bench in the garden, shaded by the silver birch tree, and watched her husband’s daughters. Darcy and Fiona gamboled around though the August afternoon was warm.

The shrill cries of blue jays and the buzz of insects had replaced the nesting robins and wrens. Cicadas called to each other while crickets gave voice to creaky songs.

Victoria closed her eyes and inhaled the mingling flower scents. She could hardly believe she had been married for nearly two months and was the stepmother of two girls. Only a few weeks earlier, she had never even kissed a man, but then her husband had introduced her to the delightful world of sensuality.

She loved him. Victoria knew that as surely as the heat made her queasy and her studies made her dizzy.

Too bad Alexander didn’t love her. She could have confessed her stupidity if he had. Hiding her problem from him wearied her, and practicing those b’s and d’s gave her a headache.

“Mama Tory, what are you thinking?” Darcy asked.

Victoria opened her eyes to find both girls standing in front of her. “See a b and say a d,” she answered. “See a d and say a b.”

“Is that magic?” Fiona whispered, her hazel eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Would you like to play magic?” Victoria produced a small cloth pouch containing powder mixed with tiny glittering particles.

“What is that?” Fiona asked.

“Pixie dust.” Victoria handed her the pouch. “Turn slowly in a circle, tossing pixie dust into the air as you do, and say, ‘Pixie dust here, pixie dust there, pixie dust is everywhere. Send me—blank— and this I swear, for pixies I shall always care.’”

“Blank is where you name what you want,” Darcy told her sister.

With a nervous smile, Fiona took the pouch and, turning in a circle, tossed the pixie dust into the air. “Pixie dust here, pixie dust there, pixie dust everywhere. Send me a brother and this I swear, for pixies I shall always care.”

“Very good, sister,” Darcy praised her. Then she asked, “May I use the magic wand?”

Victoria passed her the wand. “Be careful what you wish for.”

Darcy pointed the wand at the sky, made a circle with it, and pointed it at the sky again. “Fairies and pixies, come to me. Fairies and pixies, hear my plea. Send a brother straight to me. Fairies and pixies, thankee, thankee.”

“Lady Victoria.”

Victoria spied Bundles hurrying across the garden. The majordomo wore an anxious expression, filling her with a sense of foreboding.

“His Lordship left the house for a meeting with the Duke of Inverary,” Bundles told her. “There is a woman in the foyer demanding to speak to you in His Lordship’s absence.”

“That must be our brother,” Darcy exclaimed.

Victoria rose from the bench. She couldn’t credit what she was thinking. Her husband would not have lied to her.

Followed by the majordomo, Victoria guided the girls back to the house and went directly to the foyer. Her fear took the shape of a buxom, flame-haired woman who paced back and forth. As before, a young girl and an older woman sat on the bench.

“Are you the Countess of Winchester?”

Victoria stiffened when the other woman smiled as if she found her lacking. Anger, instead of insecurity, swelled within her. How many tarts in England had given birth to her husband’s children?

“Are you looking for employment?” Victoria asked. “If so, I must tell you this is not a brothel.”

“I am an actress,” the woman informed her, and then gestured to the girl. “Tell His Lordship that Nell is returning one of his gifts. His daughter Aidan.” At that, the woman left the house.

Before greeting her newest daughter, Victoria instructed the majordomo, “Send a footman to carry their bags upstairs. Tell Pinky and Hartwell to help—” She looked at the older woman.

“Juniper,” the woman supplied.

“Juniper,” Victoria said to Bundles. “Serve us chocolate pudding in the dining room, and send a message to His Lordship asking that he come home immediately.”

“Yes, my lady.” Bundles hurried away.

Victoria gave her attention to the little girl. She crouched down at eye level with the child. “I am your daddy’s wife,” she introduced herself. “Welcome home, Aidan. I bet that you are five years old.”

Aidan’s hazel eyes, so much like her father’s, widened with her surprise. “How did you know?”

“These are your sisters, Darcy and Fiona,” Victoria said, gesturing them closer.

“The fairies and pixies made a big mistake,” Darcy said.

“We wished for a brother,” Fiona added.

“We’ll take you,” Darcy told Aidan. She wrapped her arms around her new sister and hugged her. Fiona followed her lead, making Aidan smile.

*    *    *

While Victoria waited for his return, Alexander sat in the Duke of Inverary’s study. With them were Prince Rudolf and Robert Campbell.