The Countess (23 page)

Chapter Fifteen

T
he murmur of voices stirred Christiana from sleep, and had her rolling onto her back in bed. Opening her eyes, she found the room awash with sunlight and Richard up, dressed, and at the door talking to someone in the hall. He closed the door now and turned back into the room, a smile curving his lips as his eyes landed on her.

“Ah, you’re awake.” Richard approached the bed, pausing to collect a dressing gown off the back of a chair as he came. “Your bath is ready, and everyone else is gathering downstairs. Cook is making breakfast, which should be ready soon, and then we need to start moving on our plans for the day. You’re still willing to take care of interviewing the staff today while Daniel and I go see about the money, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” Christiana sat up, taking the robe from him and managing to pull it onto first one arm and then the other while still holding up the bedclothes to cover her nakedness. Before she’d nodded off in the carriage on the journey back to London, the group had discussed and decided who would handle what tasks today after they’d rested. Daniel was going to accompany Richard to arrange for the blackmail money, Lisa and Robert were to visit the park and various other areas in search of gossip to see if they could not find out who George had seemed most friendly with this last year in the hopes of sorting out who the blackmailer could be, and Suzette and Christiana were to question the staff and see if they couldn’t figure out who might have been paid to poison George’s drink.

Christiana had been rather surprised he’d trust her with the responsibility when Richard had asked if she’d be willing to handle the interviews. George wouldn’t have.

“Good.” He smiled, and offered a hand as she pulled the robe around herself and pushed the blankets away.

Holding the robe closed with one hand, Christiana clasped his fingers with the other and got out of bed, ducking her head and blushing as she realized that—despite her best effort—she’d flashed quite a bit of leg. She kept her head bowed, fussing nervously as she tied the sash, and then stiffened with surprise when Richard suddenly caught her under the chin and tipped her face up to his.

“Good morning.” The words were a soft whisper as his mouth descended to hers.

Christiana remained still and self-conscious under the gentle caress, unsure how to respond. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck, press her body to his and open her mouth to him in a most wanton fashion. However, it was the middle of the morning. She wasn’t sure he would welcome such a brazen display in the light of day, so she merely stood still and waited to see if he would deepen the kiss. Much to her disappointment, he didn’t, but ended it with a little sigh and straightened.

“I suppose I should let you start your day. I’ll be downstairs waiting with the others.”

Christiana watched him go with confusion. He seemed somehow disappointed and she wasn’t sure why.

“Come take your bath before it gets cold.”

Christiana glanced around with surprise to see Grace standing next to the steaming tub. She hadn’t noticed the woman’s presence on first waking, and now smiled in greeting as she crossed the room. “Your carriage made it back all right then?”

“I gather we didn’t arrive long after your carriage did.” Grace moved to collect a cloth and soap as Christiana removed the robe she’d just donned and stepped into the tub. She then returned to the tub and knelt to wash her back for her, commenting, “His lordship seems a good man.”

“Aye,” Christiana murmured noncommittally.

“He has proven himself thoughtful, arranging the bath to be brought up for you, and letting you sleep as late as he could while it was prepared.”

Christiana nodded, and accepted the cloth to wash the rest of herself when Grace finished and straightened.

“And he’s trusting you to interview the servants as well.” Grace moved to collect a gown for her to wear once she’d finished. “Dicky-George didn’t trust you to buckle your own shoes.”

“No, he didn’t,” she agreed with a grimace. The man had thought her useless. At least, that was how he’d made her feel this last year.

“And though they were born brothers and twins, Richard is obviously nothing like George was.”

Christiana remained silent. Everything Grace said was true. So far, Richard seemed to be a good man. He hadn’t yet criticized her or treated her coldly, and he had been in her bed twice now, even before the ceremony at Radnor, which was definitely different from George. But George had seemed to be wonderful and caring when he was courting her, and yet had proven to be nothing like that once they were married.

“He’ll make you happy,” Grace added firmly when Christiana remained silent. “If you let him.”

She glanced to the maid with surprise. “What do you mean, if I let him?”

Grace set aside the clothes she’d gathered and moved back to the tub. “Child, I know George hurt you. You thought you loved him and he betrayed you by turning into the cold, critical man who has tormented you this last year. But Richard isn’t George.”

“I know that,” Christiana muttered, turning her face away and continuing to wash herself as she admitted, “And I know now that I didn’t really love George. I loved the romantic hero he pretended to be, but that man didn’t exist and the real man . . .” She shrugged wearily and dipped the cloth in the water with a sigh.

“Richard isn’t George,” Grace repeated solemnly.

“But what if he too isn’t the man he appears to be now? How do I know he will not turn just as George did?” Christiana asked almost plaintively. Tears glazed her eyes and she shook her head on a sigh, confusion rife within her. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to cry, and then she was and admitted, “I’m afraid.”

“George turned the moment the ‘I dos’ were said, or very nearly,” Grace pointed out. “He also didn’t even consummate the marriage. Richard hasn’t yet started to treat you differently. I haven’t heard anything even remotely resembling a criticism of you from him, and he trusts your judgment where George didn’t. As for consummating the marriage, the man did that before the two of you were even married.”

Grace sighed. “Child, you have a choice here. You can trust that he is the man he is presenting now and treat him accordingly, or you can keep him at arm’s length lest he hurt you as you have been doing.”

Christiana frowned. “I haven’t been keeping him at arm’s length.”

“Oh?” she asked dryly. “Well, you haven’t been yourself around him either. I have known you all your life and you have always been a bit of a hoyden. You may fool others, but I know you are not the prim proper lady who embroiders on a journey in a bouncing carriage.”

She glanced at her sharply. “How did you know—”

“I saw it in your hand as you got in the carriage,” Grace said dryly, moving to kneel beside the tub again. “I also saw it go flying out the window before we stopped for lunch.”

“Richard threw it out. He asked if I liked doing it and when I said no, he snatched it away and threw it out the window. He said with him I didn’t need to do things I didn’t care to do.”

“Then listen to him,” Grace said firmly, urging her to lean back and dip her head in the water to soak her hair. Once she was upright again, Grace began to soap the long strands and said, “You have not been yourself since marrying George and that was understandable the way he picked and chewed away at your self-respect. You are better now than while he lived, but—”

“He has only been dead for a couple days,” Christiana pointed out in her own defense.

“I know that,” she assured her solemnly. “But his death freed you from a cage of sorts. You should be fluttering about like mad, happy to be loose. Instead you are still trying to be the proper little lady he insisted you should be. There is no sparkle in your eye, no bubbly chatter, no running about barefoot under your gown as you used to.” She used her hold on Christiana’s hair to tilt her head to meet her gaze, “And you stood there wooden as a doll when Lord Radnor kissed you before leaving this morning. Tell me you didn’t want to kiss him back. I could tell you did. Your hands balled up into fists to avoid the temptation and you swayed, and then caught yourself. You wanted to kiss him, didn’t you?”

Christiana blushed. “Yes, but it is daytime and I was not sure a proper lady would—”

“No man wants a proper lady in his bedroom, or in his house for that matter,” Grace assured her dryly. “Certainly, be proper when out in society, but you need not be so proper at home around him. Do you think your mother was always the proper lady? No, she wasn’t. Where do you think you learned to run about barefoot in the first place?”

Christiana’s eyebrows rose. She had only been five when her mother died and didn’t recall much of her. She hadn’t realized her mother had run about the estate barefoot.

“If you want marriage with a man who loves you, then you have to be the true you, not some proper lady you think he wants. That is the game Di—George played to convince you to marry him. Do not play that game with Richard. Be yourself,” she said firmly.

“What if he does not like the real me?” Christiana asked unhappily.

“Then we shall pray he drops dead like George did and find you a man who will,” Grace said stoutly.

“Grace!” Christiana cried with shock.

“Oh, you know I am teasing,” Grace muttered, urging her to lean back so she could rinse her hair. “Do not worry about his not liking the real you. That won’t happen, my lady. Take it from me, you are easy to love.”

Christiana opened her eyes and met Grace’s gaze. She would have hugged the woman for the kind words if she weren’t reclining in the tub as the woman poured water over her hair to rinse away the soap. The best she could do was reach up and squeeze her arm affectionately. She then quickly closed her eyes as the soapy water splashed toward them and murmured, “I love you too, Grace.”

The maid “hrrumphed” at the words and continued rinsing her hair.

Christiana remained silent for a moment, her thoughts on how she had behaved this last year, and more importantly, the last few days with Richard. She wasn’t as miserable as she had been with George, in fact, she hadn’t felt a moment’s misery since the man had died, but she had still felt slightly restricted and tried to temper her behavior. Well, except for when she’d grown impatient back at Radnor when Richard had been hustling her back to the carriage and not listening to her. Biting her lip at the recollection, Christiana blurted, “I yelled at him at Radnor.”

“I know. I saw.” Grace sounded amused. “He was startled but didn’t get angry.”

“No, he didn’t,” she agreed. “Dicky—George would have been furious.”

“Hmm.” Grace finished with her hair and released her. “I think I would be happy never to have to hear either of those two names again.”

Christiana nodded in agreement and sat up in the tub again.

“You’d best get out now. We have to get you dressed and downstairs. They are holding breakfast for you.”

Christiana nodded and stood up to wring out her hair. She dried off and dressed quickly, and then waited patiently as Grace brushed out her hair to dry it further. She expected her to pin it up on top of her head then, but Grace set the brush aside.

“You are not planning to go out, why do you not leave it down today and see what he says?” she suggested gently. When Christiana just stared at her uncertainly, Grace added, “And perhaps not bother with shoes today, just this once to see what he says.”

Christiana bit her lip. She was tempted, her feet always seemed to be hot and uncomfortable in shoes, and it really was more comfortable to have her hair down.

“Just this once to see if he reacts like his brother did,” Grace said quietly. “Do you not think it is better to know now than wait in an agony of worry?”

Christiana gave in with a sigh and headed for the door. It was better to know, she supposed. And really, it was more comfortable she thought, smiling slightly at the feel of the cool wood underfoot. By the time she was halfway up the hall, she was beginning to feel a little more like her old self.

“Oh, good.”

Christiana glanced over her shoulder as she reached the top of the stairs, eyebrows rising slightly when she saw Lisa coming out of the room she was occupying.

“I was worried I would be the last one downstairs this morning,” her youngest sister admitted, hurrying toward her.

“You will be,” Christiana assured her with a grin and started down the stairs. She heard Lisa squeal and the patter of her feet as she ran after her, and promptly snatched up the skirts of her gown and broke into a run as well, charging down the stairs with more speed than care. She jumped the last two steps, landed on the hardwood and whirled to hurry up the hall toward the breakfast room, her feet slipping on the polished floor. Christiana kept her balance and hurried forward, not slowing until she neared the door, but then her worries flowed back to crowd her mind and she skidded to a halt just short of the breakfast room, and took a breath to calm her heavy breathing before stepping inside.

Daniel, Suzette, Robert and Richard were all seated around the table talking over cups of tea, but every eye turned Christiana’s way as she stepped inside. So everyone was watching when Lisa burst into the room and crashed into her back.

“Phooey,” Lisa gasped, grabbing at Christiana’s arms to steady herself. “You win.”

Christiana bit her lip, and reached back to steady Lisa, but she was watching Richard warily as she did. Her heart sank when he rose from the table and came around toward her, sure he was about to admonish her for racing about the house in so unruly a manner. However, he paused before her, and bent to kiss her cheek, whispering, “Your hair looks nice this morning.” Straightening, he asked, “Ready for breakfast?”