To Catch a Countess (24 page)

Victoria felt as though she’d been kicked in the stomach. Shock and pain made her queasy as if the babe she carried protested his father’s desertion. Her husband hadn’t waited long to replace her. Transfixed by the sight, Victoria stood statue-still. In some part of her mind, she realized that people in other boxes were watching. Her husband glanced over his shoulder and saw her there.

“Victoria—” With a smile of greeting, Alexander rose from his chair. The sound of his voice broke her paralysis.

“Don’t let me interrupt your evening,” Victoria said, her voice filled with scathing contempt.

Alexander grabbed her wrist. “What is—?”

“Unhand me, you philanderer.” Victoria yanked her hand out of his and added in a voice loud enough for others to hear, “If she drops an indiscretion on our doorstep, I swear I will drown this one.”

Victoria watched as her husband’s complexion reddened. She didn’t stay to listen to his tirade, but whirled away and left the opera house. Hearing her husband calling her name, Victoria quickened her pace. Her head pounded, her stomach rolled, and her heart ached.

Too insecure to attend a ball without her husband, Victoria searched her mind for a way to upset him in a like manner. She refused to go directly home. Let him wonder about her fidelity. Victoria ordered the driver to take her to Montague House, her sister’s home.

How dare Alexander humiliate her by carrying on in front of society. His having a mistress would be painful enough, but flaunting the affair passed beyond the bounds of discretion.

An inner voice insisted that his sitting with the widow did not prove unfaithfulness. He could have gone to the opera where the widow descended upon him. Purposely, no doubt.

On the other hand, Alexander appeared smitten with the widow, which humiliated her in front of society. She intended to even the score. If he wanted to regain her favor, Alexander would need to rescind his open invitation for the widow to use the opera box. There were six other nights in the week. Let her attend the opera on one of those nights or purchase her own damn opera box.

Fortunately, Rudolf and Samantha had stayed home that evening. Victoria walked into the drawing room and burst into tears. In an instant, her sister had enfolded her within a comforting embrace and led her to the settee.

“What happened?” Samantha asked her.

Before she could answer, Rudolf asked, “Is this about the third daughter?”

“You know about that?” When he inclined his head, Victoria told them, “His lies angered me so much, I passed this week at His Grace’s estate. I left the girls there and—”

Rudolf smiled. “You took Alexander’s daughters and left him?”

“They are my daughters, too,” Victoria said. “When I arrived at the opera this evening, Alexander and Diana were sitting close together.”

“And then what happened?” Rudolf asked.

“I called him a philanderer and left.” In a small voice, Victoria added, “Unfortunately, I arrived at intermission and people were watching. May I stay here for a while?”

“You may stay as long as you like,” her sister told her.

“No, Samantha, she may not stay here,” Rudolf said. “Tory, you need to go home and make peace with your husband. Alex will worry if you don’t return.”

“I want him to worry,” Victoria said. “I need to stay until two or three in the morning so he’ll believe I continued with my evening.”

“Why didn’t you go to one of the balls?”

“I would never do that without Alex,” Victoria said, making him smile. “Please, let me stay until midnight.”

“Very well, but you are leaving at midnight.” Rudolf poured her a snifter of brandy. “Drink this, Tory. You will feel better.”

“I don’t think spirits will agree with the baby,” Victoria said. “May I have a cup of tea?”

“To what baby are you referring?” Samantha asked, her expression bewildered.

“I’m pregnant,” Victoria said, and burst into tears.

“What wonderful news,” Samantha said. “Aren’t you happy about it?”

“I’ve never been happier in my life,” Victoria sobbed, and then hiccupped.

“Alex never mentioned it,” Rudolf said.

“He doesn’t know,” Victoria said. “I didn’t know until Aunt Roxie told me. I thought I had caught a dreadful disease.”

Prince Rudolf laughed and her sister smiled. “I’ll get you that cup of tea,” the prince said, and left the drawing room.

Victoria leaned back against the settee and closed her eyes. She fell asleep before the prince returned with the tea.

“Wake up, Tory.”

Victoria opened her eyes and saw her brother-in-law. She yawned and stretched, asking, “Where’s Samantha?”

“She went upstairs an hour ago,” Rudolf answered, helping her rise from the settee. “You need to go home now.”

“I’m sorry I kept you awake,” Victoria said, as he escorted her to her waiting coach.

“Tell Alex about the baby,” Rudolf advised her. “Then accept his apology for upsetting you.”

“Thank you, Rudolf.”

“How could I refuse to help my favorite red-haired sister-in-law?”

“I’m your only red-haired sister-in-law.”

Twenty minutes later, Victoria climbed the stairs to her third-floor bedchamber. She wondered where Alexander was. Had he accompanied the widow to any of that evening’s social gatherings? What was he thinking and feeling?

Victoria walked into her bedchamber room. She set a plate down on the bedside table and glanced at the connecting door for a long moment. With a sigh, she turned away and took a step toward her dressing room.

“Where have you been?”

Victoria stopped short and turned around.

Alexander rose from the chair and sauntered across the chamber to tower over her. He noted her swollen, tear-reddened eyes and steeled himself against the remorse welling up in his chest. “Answer my question.”

His eighteen-year-old wife had the audacity to lift her nose in the air. “I went out.”

“That is no answer.”

“That is the only answer you will get.”

“Where were you?” Alexander repeated, a hard edge to his voice. “Whom were you with? What were you doing until midnight?”

“I went to the Templetons’ ball and danced with whoever asked.”

Victoria noticed his right cheek muscle begin to twitch. That was a bad sign.

“You did not attend the Templetons’ ball,” Alexander said. “Neither did you go to the Richards, the Murrays, or the Carletons. Where were you?”

“That is none of your business.”

“Your whereabouts is my business,” he told her. “You answer to me.”
Or else
, was left unspoken.

“I went to Montague House and fell asleep on the settee,” Victoria admitted. “Ask Rudolf if you don’t believe me. He woke me up and sent me home.”

The twitching in his cheek muscle subsided. “Where did you put my daughters?”

“
Our
daughters are extending their visit with my aunt,” Victoria told him. “His Grace and my aunt will return with them in a few days.”

“Why did you create that scene at the opera? That was a stupid stunt.”

“I am not stupid. What is between you and the widow?”

“I have no interest in the widow,” Alexander told her.

“The widow has an interest in you,” Victoria said. “Your actions encourage her.”

“I went to the opera alone,” he said. “She appeared just before the curtain went up. Should I have left?”

“Revoke your opera invitation,” Victoria said, “or stipulate that she is not to attend on Thursdays.”

“What reason could I give for changing my mind?” Alexander asked, his irritation apparent in his voice. “The woman is my sister’s sister-in-law. She’s practically family.”

“Do what you want.” Victoria walked toward the dressing room.

“Are you coming to bed?”

Victoria halted and, without turning around, said, “I am going to my bed.”

“I forbid you to go out in the evenings unless I accompany you.”

Victoria turned around slowly. Anger blazed at him from the depths of her blue eyes. “Why?”

“I dislike the feeling of wondering where my wife is.”

“You don’t own me.”

“I do own you,” Alexander countered. “A wife belongs to her husband. That is the law.”

“I don’t give a fig about the law.”

“You will obey me,” Alexander warned, “or you will regret it.” At that, he disappeared into his chamber.

*    *    *

Victoria awakened late the following morning. Making a mental note to tell her maid to leave some bread on her bedside table early each morning, she sat up and leaned against the headboard while she ate the bread she had placed there the previous night.

Why couldn’t Alexander see that Venetia and Diana were cunning manipulators? Unless he rescinded the open invitation, Diana Drummond would appear at the opera every Thursday. Why would the widow seek to become Alexander’s mistress when a woman as beautiful as she could have any man for a husband?

Divorce was not an option. The widow could not be harboring any hope to become Alexander’s wife.

Once the bread calmed her queasiness, Victoria went to the dining room for a late breakfast. “Good morning, Bundles.”

His lips twitched. “Good afternoon, my lady.”

“Is there any food left? Or has my husband eaten everything? “

“We always have food for you, my lady.”

Victoria looked over the morning’s fare and felt the nausea returning. She chose a dry roll and a cup of black tea and then sat down at the table.

“Wouldn’t you care for eggs or ham?” Bundles asked, standing beside her chair. “Mrs. Hull will cook something fresh.”

Putting a hand to her throat, Victoria gulped back the nausea his words provoked. She closed her eyes as beads of sweat broke out over her upper lip and the crevice between her breasts. “I’ll wait for lunch.”

“Are you ill, my lady?”

“I am perfectly well.” Victoria managed a faint, reassuring smile.

Bundles returned to the sideboard.

Thinking the house seemed empty without the girls, Victoria sipped her tea and glanced at the newspaper on the table near her. She turned to the society news and wished she could read it. Had her scene at the opera been mentioned?

“Bundles, would you do me a favor?”

The majordomo was at her side in an instant.

“I forgot my spectacles upstairs,” Victoria said. “Will you read me the society news and tell me if the reporter mentioned the earl or me?”

Bundles didn’t bother to look at the newspaper. “Intermission at the opera last night entertained the audience more than the performance,” he quoted. “The Countess of Winchester arrived late to discover her husband huddled with a beautiful widow.”

Victoria felt her heart sink to her stomach. “Did my husband read the article?”

“I believe so, my lady.”

“That bad?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Is he home?”

“His Lordship is working in his study,” Bundles told her.

“Thank you.” Victoria sat at the table for a few minutes more while she summoned her courage. Alexander was furious with her. She had better go to his study and make peace as Rudolf had advised.

Victoria walked upstairs but hesitated outside his study. Pasting a bright smile onto her face, she breezed into the study. “Good afternoon, Alex.”

Wearing a grim expression, Alexander watched her cross the room. His implacable expression boded ill for making peace.

Victoria sat down in the chair in front of his desk and fidgeted for a moment, settling herself. Glancing up, she saw her husband watching her. I returned to London to tell you that I understand why you lied about Aidan.”

“Do you?” Alexander cocked a brow at her. “How generous.”

“Are we attending the Cavendish affair tonight?” Victoria asked, her smile forced and overly bright. “My sisters and brothers-in-law will be attending.”

“I am engaged for the evening at White’s,” Alexander said, watching her expression droop. “You will be staying home where you belong.”

“A quiet evening at home sounds wonderful,” she said, rising from the chair. “Will we be dining together?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“I see.” Without another word, Victoria breezed out of his study as if she had not a care in the world.

Alexander gave her high marks for facing the lion in his den. She must have read the
Times
gossip column. His wife would be passing many evenings alone at home until she learned who gave the orders and who obeyed.

The duchess’s words slammed into his consciousness.
Victoria never actually refuses to do anything. She agrees to whatever you want and then does what she wants.

Alexander sat up straight. Would Victoria attend the Cavendish affair without him? Was she that brave? Or foolish? He would take himself to the Cavendish affair before the guests went down to supper. If his wife was there, he would drag her home and make sure she couldn’t sit comfortably for a week.

That evening, Victoria sat on the settee in her chamber and practiced transposing her b’s and d’s while waiting for her husband to leave. Her thoughts were mutinous. She felt tired and didn’t want to go to a ball, but her husband was forcing her to do this. He needed to be taught a lesson.

White’s was for gentlemen only, but how could she be sure that was his real destination? Could he be engaging in a secret rendezvous with Diana Drummond? Another woman?

Victoria heard the connecting door open but ignored his presence until she spied his shoes planted on the floor beside her. She looked up and noted his formal evening attire. Was that required at White’s or was he going somewhere else?

“What were you mumbling?” Alexander asked.

“Incantations.”

Alexander smiled. “I hope you aren’t hexing me.”

“I would never do that,” Victoria said, a smile on her lips.

“I see you are comfortable in your bed robe. Have you eaten?”

“I had a late lunch. Mrs. Hull will send me a tray later.”

Alexander shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “Is there anything I can do for you before I leave?”

Victoria looked at him with longing in her eyes. “I can’t think of anything.”

“Have yourself a good evening.” Alexander left the chamber.