To Catch a Countess Read online

  Published Internationally by Lachesis Publishing Inc.

  Rockland, Ontario, Canada

  Copyright © 2013 Patricia Grasso

  Exclusive cover © 2013 Laura Givens

  Inside artwork © 2013 Giovanna Lagana

  All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the publisher, Lachesis Publishing Inc., is an infringement of the copyright law.

  A catalogue record for the print format of this title is available from the National Library of Canada

  ISBN 978-1-927555-32-3

  A catalogue record for the Ebook is available

  from the National Library of Canada

  Ebooks are available for purchase from

  www.lachesispublishing.com

  ISBN 978-1-927555-33-0

  Editor: Joanna D’Angelo

  Copyeditor: Giovanna Lagana

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  Old Sidney, the supervisor. A half-dead, bone-and-fur 14 year-old cat when I found you. You proved the healing power of love, especially when the love was combined with a thousand dollars of medical treatments. You were worth every penny.

  Reviews

  “Refreshing heroine . . . steamy and passionate love scenes . . . made me laugh. Amazon UK

  “Her characters are a joy . . .” Publishers Weekly

  Also available

  Douglas Series:

  To Charm a Prince (Book 2)

  To Tempt an Angel (Book 1)

  Pagan Bride

  Coming soon

  To Love A Princess

  Kazanov Series (Book 1)

  To Catch a Countess

  Chapter 1

  England, 1814

  “Teach me how to flirt.”

  Eighteen-year-old Victoria Douglas gazed out her bedchamber window at her uncle’s, the Duke of Inverary’s, country estate. Hearing her sisters’ laughter, Victoria smiled and walked across the chamber to where they sat on the chaise near the summer-dark hearth.

  Twenty-year-old Angelica was drawing an F on the soles of the left feet of Victoria’s new shoes. Nineteen-year-old Samantha was browsing through the morning Times.

  Victoria knew her sisters were teasing her. “What is so amusing about my wanting to learn to flirt?”

  “Why do you want to learn to flirt?” Angelica asked, without looking up from her task.

  “Aunt Roxie had one of her otherworldly visions,” Victoria told them, rolling her blue eyes heavenward. “Apparently, I am destined to marry an illustrious earl and she wants me to be ready to charm him.”

  “Why do you need to charm him if you are already destined to marry?” Samantha asked.

  Victoria became serious. “I need to overcome handicaps like my red hair.”

  “Your hair matches your personality,” Samantha said to her.

  “I wish I had your black hair or Angel’s blondeness,” Victoria said. “Men adore blondes.”

  “Count your blessings,” Samantha said. “You could be bald.”

  “Did you know I always wanted yours or Samantha’s hair color?” Angelica picked up another shoe to mark.

  Samantha smiled. “I always wanted to look like either of you.”

  “I suppose no one is ever satisfied with what they’ve been given,” Victoria said with a smile. Her smile drooped, and when she spoke again, her voice mirrored her desperation. “I’ll never read the Times because I can’t read, write, or cipher. If I knew how to flirt, I could find a gentleman and marry him before he realizes I’m stupid.”

  Victoria felt the hot blush rising on her cheeks when her sisters stared at her in obvious surprise. She couldn’t imagine why her frustration surprised them. They had known her problem for years, but knowing and understanding were different things. Her sisters could never understand because they could read, write, and cipher.

  “You are not stupid,” Angelica said.

  “Something prevents you from learning,” Samantha added.

  Victoria forced herself to smile but was unable to mask the pain in her voice. “That something is commonly referred to as stupidity.”

  When both sisters opened their mouths to argue, Victoria held her hand up. “Most people are stupid because no one bothered to teach them, but I cannot learn in spite of being taught. You see a dog bark, but I see a bog dark.”

  “Everyone has a weakness,” Samantha told her. “I limp from that carriage accident.”

  “I would switch my stupidity for your limp any day of the week.”

  “You have many talents,” Samantha argued. “You play the flute beautifully, and your joie de vivre is contagious.”

  “What is that?”

  “Joie de vivre is joy of life,” Angelica answered, and then shifted her gaze to the shoes still needing to be marked. “How many new pairs of shoes do you have?”

  “His Grace and Aunt Roxie bought me an extensive new wardrobe, complete with shoes and other accessories,” Victoria told them, wandering back to the window. “A trousseau without a husband. They’re hoping I’ll meet a suitable gentleman and marry.”

  Victoria stared out the window. Her brothers-in-law, the Marquess of Argyll and Russian Prince Rudolf, were practicing golf on the large expanse of lawn behind the rear gardens.

  “Your husbands are golfing,” Victoria called over her shoulder.

  “Is Rudolf swinging those clubs near the children?” Samantha asked.

  “No.”

  “What about Robert?” Angelica asked.

  “Sweeting and Honey have taken the children closer to the house.” Victoria turned around to smile at them. “Both of you gave birth to twins within a year. Do you think I’ll have twins, too?”

  “Having a husband would help,” Angelica replied, marking the last shoe.

  “Rudolf’s brothers will be arriving tomorrow,” Victoria said.

  “Aunt Roxie invited Alexander Emerson for the weekend,” Samantha said, without looking up from the Times.

  Victoria grimaced. “Alexander Emerson is so boring.”

  “Why do you say that?” Angelica asked.

  “He is always so serious,” Victoria answered. “Rudolf’s brothers are much more fun.”

  Samantha looked up from the paper. “Are you developing a fondness for Prince Stepan?”

  Victoria noted her sister’s concerned expression but had no idea what it meant. She glanced at Angelica who wore the same concerned expression.

  “Stepan and I are friends,” Victoria told them. “Like cousins.”

  “We’ll teach you to flirt,” Angelica said, “and you can practice on Alexander Emerson this weekend.”

  “That’s an outstanding idea.” Samantha glanced at Victoria. “If someone as serious as Alex succumbs to your flirting, then you’ll have no problem with any gentleman.”

  “Alexander Emerson is a tad elderly, don’t you think?” Victoria asked.

  “Twenty-nine years is hardly at his last prayers,” Angelica said.

  “The Earl of Winchester is considered quite a catch,” Samantha told her.

  “Alex’s title and wealth, in addition to his good looks, have more than a few mamas pushing their daughters in his path,” Angelica added.

  Victoria had never thought about Alexander in that way, but her sisters’ words had her seeing the earl in a new light. “I’ll bet all those mamas would be green if they knew the Earl of Winchester was sp
ending the weekend in the country where there was an available young lady, albeit a stupid redhead.”

  “If you flirt with Alexander,” Angelica warned, “you can never admit you’re only practicing.”

  Samantha nodded. “Men are sensitive about things like that.”

  Victoria gave them a mischievous smile. “As the weekend progresses, you can tell me if what I’m doing is correct.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Angelica said.

  “Well, sisters, I’m ready to begin. Tell me what to do.”

  “Stare at Alex intensely,” Angelica told her. “When he catches you looking, hold his gaze for a second or two longer. Then drop your gaze in shyness and blush.”

  Victoria burst out laughing. “Alexander isn’t going to believe I’m shy.”

  “Trust me,” Angelica said. “Arrogance makes men behave like pinheads around a pretty woman.”

  “Stand very close to him when you are speaking,” Samantha said. “Look at him with adoration in your eyes.”

  “How do I do that?” Victoria asked, puzzled.

  “Imagine that he has conquered the world and placed it at your feet,” Samantha said.

  Victoria couldn’t suppress her bubble of laughter. She couldn’t imagine Alexander Emerson or any other man placing the world at her feet. She wasn’t exactly Cleopatra.

  “Let him hold your hand,” Angelica said.

  “Let him kiss you if he wants,” Samantha added.

  “Not too much, though, or he’ll think you’re fast,” Angelica warned.

  “How much is too much?” Victoria asked, completely confused. She had never even kissed a man.

  “You’ll know,” her sisters said simultaneously, and then looked at each other and laughed.

  “Do not let him touch you anywhere private,” Samantha warned, “or you’ll be ruined.”

  “Alexander must be very smart,” Victoria said, her confidence waning. “What should I say to him?”

  “Engage in light-hearted conversation,” Angelica said. “If he says something naughty, say something naughty back.”

  “Ask him a question or his advice,” Samantha suggested.

  “Advice about what?” Victoria knew she was destined to fail. “Maybe I should ask him how to flirt.”

  “Why, Tory, that is a brilliant idea,” Angelica said, smiling. “If Alex is teaching you how to flirt, he won’t be aware that you’re attracted to him.”

  “I’m not attracted to him.”

  “If you are a good listener, men think you are a good conversationalist,” Samantha told her. “Men love to share their wisdom with inferior creatures like us.”

  “Read me something from the Times,” Victoria said. “I’ll ask him about it.”

  “Napoleon was exiled to Elba a few weeks ago,” Angelica said. “I heard Robert and Rudolf discussing it.”

  “Here’s something,” Samantha said. “The apprentice law was repealed.”

  “What is that?” Victoria asked.

  “I don’t know,” Samantha said with a shrug. “You’ll need to ask Alex.”

  Victoria smiled, and her blue eyes gleamed with excitement. “He’ll think I’m smart enough to read the newspaper.”

  “Alex has already arrived,” Samantha told her. “He’s in a business meeting with His Grace.”

  Victoria grabbed her flute case and headed for the door. “I’m going to walk to the stream and concentrate on what I’m supposed to do.”

  Leaving her chamber, Victoria walked to the end of the corridor. Like an old friend, insecurity caught her at the top of the stairs. She hurried back to her chamber. Her sisters looked up at her entrance.

  “Do you think my white gown looks presentable?” Victoria asked. “I mean, in case I meet Alexander in the corridor.”

  “You look pretty,” Angelica assured her.

  Victoria looked at Samantha for confirmation. When she nodded in agreement, Victoria left the chamber.

  While Victoria was learning to flirt, Alexander Emerson sat one floor down in the Duke of Inverary’s study. With them was the Duchess of Inverary, Victoria’s aunt.

  Tall and well-built and blond, Alexander Emerson sat in one of the chairs in front of the duke’s desk and stretched his long legs out. He cast a sidelong glance at the duchess, who sat in the chair beside his, and then fixed his hazel gaze on the duke.

  “I’ve had a letter from Australia,” Alexander said, referring to his exiled sister and father.

  “Oh?” Duke Magnus said.

  “Venetia has married a Harry Gibbs, one of the richest men in Australia, or so she claims,” Alexander told him. “Venetia and her husband are planning a trip to England.”

  “The deal was that she and your father—”

  “Charles Emerson is not my father,” Alexander interrupted. “He made that perfectly clear.”

  Duke Magnus inclined his head and continued, “Venetia and Charles agreed to live in Australia in order to escape prosecution for attempting to murder you, Robert, and Angelica. Their greed hurt all of us, especially you.”

  “We forced them to do that to avoid a scandal,” Alexander reminded the older man. “What do you propose we do? From her letter, I assume Venetia and her husband are en route to England.”

  “Is Charles accompanying them?” Duke Magnus asked.

  “Venetia didn’t mention him.”

  “I think we should do nothing,” Duke Magnus said. “Let them come to England, and I’ll keep my agents watching them.”

  “Will they be here for the wedding?” the duchess asked, looking worried.

  Alexander slanted a glance in her direction. “I don’t know.”

  “Your marriage to Victoria could be fortuitous,” the duke said. “As a newlywed, you won’t want them staying with you. They will be forced to stay in a hotel or rent their own house.”

  “Your betrothal announcement appears in today’s Times,” Lady Roxanne said, changing the subject.

  “Your Grace, I told you I wanted to tell Victoria,” Alexander said, irritation tingeing his voice.

  “And you will,” the duchess said. “That’s the reason I planned this weekend.”

  Alexander began to argue, “When Victoria reads the—”

  “There is no chance of that happening,” Lady Roxanne interrupted. “Victoria never reads the newspaper. The invitations are going out on Monday, so you will have three days to break the news to her.” The duchess paused for a breath of air and then gushed, “Just imagine, my sweet Victoria will be the Countess of Winchester in less than a month and, a year from now, could be a mother.”

  “I would never call Victoria sweet,” the duke said.

  Alexander shifted his hazel gaze to the duke. The duchess had told him that his intended could be difficult at times, but he would never believe that her uncle would have difficulties with her. The chit was barely eighteen. How difficult could she be? Well, her behavior would calm once she married and delivered their first child.

  “Victoria has a slight rebellious streak,” the duchess was saying.

  “Slight? She’ll fight the betrothal if she believes we are pushing you on her,” Duke Magnus said.

  “I suggest you charm her,” Lady Roxanne said.

  “What if she fights it?” Alexander asked.

  “No matter what, Victoria is going down that aisle on the twenty-fourth of June,” Duke Magnus said.

  “Dear Alex, Victoria needs you desperately. She’s had little discipline in her young life and needs a strong man to curb her wilder impulses,” the duchess told him. “Because of her father’s decline in fortune, Victoria was only five when they moved from the Grosvenor Square mansion to the cottage on Primrose Hill. Her mother died the following year, and her father soon became sick with drink.”

  And the fault lies with Charles Emerson, Alexander thought, for swindling a fortune out of the Earl of Melrose. That was one reason he had agreed to the duchess’s offer of marriage to her youngest niece. It was the least he co
uld do to atone for Charles Emerson’s crimes against the Douglas family.

  “Beginning today, you are in charge of Victoria,” Duke Magnus said. “Do whatever you think best to win her affection.”

  Alexander inclined his head. His betrothed was going to learn who would be the boss in their household.

  Duke Magnus cleared his throat. “Roxanne and I agree that once you become intimately acquainted, Victoria will prove her loyalty and remain steadfast.”

  Alexander sat up straight. Unable to credit what he was hearing, he looked from the duke to the duchess and then back to the duke. “Are you giving me permission to bed her before the wedding?” What an unexpected turn of events. Most guardians protected their ward’s virtue.

  “We are not encouraging anything,” Duke Magnus said, “but persuading her into marriage will be easier if—”

  “—if you need to compromise her into pledging herself to you,” the duchess finished. “Sunday morning would be a good time if you aren’t leaving too early for London. Victoria never attends church.”

  Alexander raised his brows at the duchess. “She refuses to attend church services?”

  “Victoria never actually refuses to do anything,” Lady Roxanne told him. “She agrees to whatever you want and then does what she wants. At times, I feel I’m trying to catch an elusive butterfly.”

  “The chit has a repertoire of maladies, a different complaint for each week of the month,” Duke Magnus said, unable to suppress a smile. “The first week Victoria suffers from the headache, and the following week she’s felled by a stomach ache.”

  “Victoria rouses herself the third week but suffers a dizzy spell before we leave,” Lady Roxanne said, “The final week of the month, she has menstrual cramps.”

  Alexander burst out laughing. His betrothed sounded highly entertaining, “Where are we in the cycle?”

  “Victoria is due for a headache this week,” the duchess answered.

  “Except for weddings and christenings, I’ve never seen Victoria in church,” Duke Magnus said, a grudging smile on his face. When Alexander laughed again, the duke warned, “I wouldn’t laugh yet. You’re the one who needs to tame her.”