The Countess (28 page)

Chapter Eighteen

R
ichard felt his hands clench into fists when one of the French doors opened and he recognized George’s valet entering with Christiana bound and gagged and unmoving over his shoulder. It was the unmoving part that worried and enraged him and the degree to which he was affected was almost startling to him. He wanted to rip Christiana from the man’s back, assure himself she was alive and well, and then tear Freddy limb from limb for even daring to touch her let alone manhandling her so.

That rage was swiftly followed by terror when Freddy paused in the door and readjusted his hold on Christiana, revealing the short, wicked blade in one of his hands. Richard was not used to such depths of emotion. Even what George had done to him had not left him with this level of fear or rage, and he found it unsettling to feel that way now, but his mind was crowding with images of his time since returning home from America, and all of them were of Christiana, laughing, smiling, looking thoughtful and then vexed.

When Richard had left her in the dressing room that morning, he’d never imagined the next time he’d see her would be in a situation like this, with her life at risk and he uncertain he could save her, but desperate to do so. And he
was
desperate. Short though their time together had been, he already could not imagine life without her in it and didn’t want to. Somehow she had managed to wiggle her way under his skin and into his heart and he wanted to keep her there.

Freddy had finished adjusting his hold, but stood a moment longer as if sensing danger before closing the French door partway. He left it a crack open, probably for a swift escape, Richard supposed, watching from his hiding place behind a suit of armor in the office corner furthest from the doors. Robert had suggested hiding behind the curtains, but Richard had pointed out that if Freddy came from the outside he would surely see them there and their advantage of surprise would be lost, so they’d all had to find alternate spots. Richard had chosen the suit of armor, Daniel had ducked behind a settee in another corner and Robert had taken the only place left—the knee cubby under the desk. He’d squeezed himself in there and then pulled the desk chair in behind him to help disguise his presence.

Richard imagined Robert was probably in the most uncomfortable spot, but wished he’d taken it himself. It would have put him closer. His hand tightened around Lord Madison’s pistol as he waited for the man to put Christiana down to conduct his search. He would rather she was out of the way before he confronted the man. However, it soon became obvious the valet wasn’t going to put her down. He was poking through the top side drawer of the desk, just inches from Robert, but with Christiana still firmly over his back.

Richard ground his teeth together. He didn’t even want to aim the pistol at the man with Christiana acting as his shield and wished he’d thought to have one of them hide somewhere in the yard just in case something like this occurred. They could have crept up behind him then.

He’d barely had the thought when Richard noticed the French door easing slowly open behind Freddy. He held his breath briefly, and then recognized Haversham slipping into the room, a large butcher knife in hand.

Alarm coursing through him, Richard tightened his hand on the pistol he held and moved out from behind the suit of armor. It immediately drew Freddy’s attention from the drawer he was rifling through and he froze. Leveling his weapon at the man, Richard started forward, saying, “I really think it would be in your best interests to put my wife down.”

Panic crossed briefly over Freddy’s face, but then was replaced by a calculating look. Straightening slowly from the desk he said, “You wouldn’t shoot me. You might hit her.”

“I won’t let you leave here either unless it’s in chains,” Richard said grimly, continuing slowly forward as Lord Madison now slid into the room behind Haversham. Suzette and Lisa were behind him, hesitating in the door as they took in the situation.

Freddy took an unknowing step back toward Haversham and then glanced sharply toward Daniel as the other man rose from behind the settee and started forward as well. Beginning to look a little less sure of himself, Freddy shifted the knife he held, pressing it to Christiana’s backside. “Stay back or I’ll cut her.”

“Ouch! That is my bottom,” Christiana squawked.

Richard felt a moment’s relief at his first sign that she was alive and well, but growled, “Put her down.”

“Go to hell!” Freddy yelled back in frustration and whirled to charge out of the room, only to come up short as he crashed into Haversham. No one moved for half a second and then Freddy began to fall back, taking Christiana with him. Richard saw Haversham and Lord Madison trying to grab for Christiana, even as he leapt the last few feet and caught at her himself as Freddy dropped. No one apparently thought to grab Freddy and save her from her fall that way, so it ended with all of them holding her up. Richard had her by the hips, Haversham had managed to grab one leg through her gown and Lord Madison had only managed to snatch a handful of skirt. Unfortunately, it left Christiana still hanging head down, her behind in the air and her skirt raised.

The men all exchanged a horrified glance and then Lord Madison quickly released his hold on her skirts, Haversham stepped back releasing his hold as well, and Richard set Christiana down and stepped back to allow her to straighten. However, she stayed bent over and murmured, “Oh dear.”

Richard glanced down, noting then that she was peering at Freddy, or really at the large knife sticking out of his chest.

“He ran right into it, my lord,” Haversham said calmly.

Richard nodded, but his thoughts were taken up with the fact that had Haversham been a little more to one side, the knife would now be sticking out of Christiana.

Christiana finally straightened and patted the butler on the arm. “Do not feel bad, Haversham. He wasn’t a very good man.”

“Yes, my lady,” the butler murmured, and then cleared his throat and glanced to Richard. “Shall I send for the authorities, my lord?”

“Ah . . .” Richard scowled at Freddy, not pleased at the prospect of having to admit to the authorities that the man had been blackmailing them. They would have to explain what he was blackmailing them about and all their attempts to keep George’s activities a secret would be for not.

“He was trying to take Lady Christiana and hold her to ransom,” Haversham pointed out quietly. “The authorities should really be informed of this and his death.”

Richard relaxed and nodded. They would just stick to that and not mention the blackmail or anything else.

“Very good, my lord.” The butler slid silently from the room and Richard turned to Christiana, only to find she had moved to speak to her father and sisters by the door. He started her way, eager to touch and hold her and reassure himself that she was well. In truth, he wanted to strip her naked, examine every inch of her to be sure she bore no wounds and then make love to her, but knew he would just have to be content to wait for that.

“Hello? Can someone get this chair out of the way? Hello?”

Richard glanced down at Robert’s call to see that Freddy had fallen behind the chair, blocking it so that Langley couldn’t push it out and unfold himself from the cubbyhole where he’d hidden.

“Problems, Langley?” Daniel asked with a laugh, coming around the desk to Richard’s side.

“Move the damned chair, Woodrow,” Robert barked. “ ’Tis hot as hades down here and I think my leg is cramping.”

Richard chuckled and together he and Daniel shifted Freddy’s body around to the side of the desk. By the time they straightened, Robert was crawling out from under the desk.

“That was a damned stupid place to hide,” Langley muttered with self-disgust as he straightened. “Freddy was leaning against the chair while searching the desk and there wasn’t a damned thing I could have done to help anyone while stuck under there.”

“It wasn’t like there were many hiding spots to choose from,” Richard pointed out wryly as the man brushed himself down.

“Hmm.” Robert glanced to Freddy’s body. “Well, that is one problem taken care of anyway. The blackmail threat is over.”

“Now we just need to figure out who poisoned George and is still trying to kill Richard,” Daniel agreed dryly.

Robert frowned and shook his head. “Well, I’m afraid Lisa and I didn’t find out anything of use today. I think people were reluctant to gossip about you with Lisa there. She is your sister-in-law, after all. Perhaps Christiana and Suzette were more successful at discovering what servant may have administered the poison.”

“We should ask them,” Richard murmured and turned to find that Christiana and her father were gone. “Where—”

“Father wished to speak to Christiana. They have stepped out into the garden,” Suzette explained before he could finish his question.

Richard glanced toward the French doors, spotting the two at the back of the garden, their heads together. Before he could decide whether to intrude or wait, the office door opened and Haversham led two men into the room; both wore the telltale red vest of Bow Street runners. The authorities had arrived.

“What is it, Father?” Christiana asked when he stopped walking but stared at his feet rather than bring up whatever it was he’d brought her outside to discuss. “If ’tis about this gambling business, you should know you didn’t do it. We think George as Dicky drugged you and—”

“Yes, I know, Suzette told me,” he interrupted, and then added, “I came here today to take you away.”

“Take me away?” she asked with surprise.

Lord Madison nodded. “Robert had written, telling me how unhappy you seemed in your marriage and how Dicky treated you. It was why I came to London in the first place. I told the gels I needed to see the lawyer, but truly I was coming to see you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, hugging him tightly.

Lord Madison hugged her back and said, “I can still take you away.”

Startled, Christiana pulled back to peer at him. “Has no one explained that George was Dicky and now I am married to Richard, the true—”

“Yes,” he said solemnly, cutting her off. “Robert explained everything. He also said that Richard was a fine, honorable man who will treat you well and he hopes you will have a good life together. But you were tricked into marrying Dicky, and if you only married Richard to avoid scandal, I don’t want you to feel trapped into it.” He eyed her solemnly and then said, “Just say the word and I will take you home and we will figure out a way to get you out of this marriage.”

Her eyes widened incredulously. “Father, the scandal would—”

“Scandal be damned,” he growled. “We can weather that. ’Tis your happiness I care about, and the fact that your only protest is the possible scandal tells me you do not really wish to be in this marriage. Come.” He caught her hand and started to drag her toward the house. “We shall collect your sisters and head straight for home. I am done with this damned town.”

“No, wait!” Christiana cried, tugging at her hand as panic seized her at the thought of leaving Richard. “Please, Father, stop. I don’t want to leave. Really. I love him.”

Lord Madison paused at once and turned to peer at her in question. “Really? Do you love him?”

Christiana stared at him blankly, her mind in an uproar of confusion. She hadn’t meant to say that, wasn’t even sure where the words had come from. Surely she didn’t mean them, her sensible side argued, but the idea of leaving him had struck such terror in her . . .

Taking a deep breath she tried to think clearly. The passion they shared was incredible, of course, but love was more than passion, and she hadn’t known him long enough to—Christiana let that thought die in her head, because another part of her mind was arguing that she did know him. With Dicky-George Christiana had been constantly on edge, anxious over what he might say or do, and wary of his temper making an appearance and his lashing out at those around him. But Richard didn’t seem to have the same unpredictability: he was courteous and respectful of everyone he encountered, even the lowliest servant. Richard was also honorable where George probably wouldn’t have been able to even spell the word. And he had married her to save her and her sisters from scandal, which was as chivalrous as a man could get, really, she acknowledged and realized that Lisa was right, Richard was her hero, and she
had
come to love him for it. For that and so much else.

Straightening her shoulders, Christiana nodded solemnly. “I love Richard. I do not want to leave him.”

Lord Madison nodded solemnly. “Very well.”

“But thank you, Father,” she added, hugging him.

Lord Madison patted her back, and then took her arm when she stepped back. “We should go back inside and join the others.”

Christiana nodded in agreement and they turned to walk into the house, but both paused abruptly when they spotted Richard standing in the open French doors. Christiana bit her lip, worried about how long he’d been there and whether he’d heard her declaration, but her husband merely said, “The authorities have been and gone. We explained that Freddy had tried to take you to ransom and we all stopped him and they accepted our explanations and took him away.”

“Oh,” Christiana murmured. “They didn’t wish to speak to me?”

“I told them you were upset. They accepted that and said there was no need to talk to you with so many other witnesses.”