To Catch a Countess Read online

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  Someone knocked on the door, startling them. “Victoria?” her aunt called.

  Victoria leaped out of bed and shrugged into her robe. She tossed Alexander’s clothing behind the privacy screen. Then she unlocked and opened the door a crack.

  Victoria yawned for effect. “Yes, Aunt Roxie?”

  “Why is your door locked?”

  “I didn’t want to be disturbed.”

  “Sorry, darling. Are you feeling better?”

  “I’ve recovered enough to bid Alex farewell when he leaves,” Victoria answered.

  “Speaking of Alexander . . .” The duchess gave her a feline smile. “Where is the earl?”

  “He offered to brew me a cup of tea,” Victoria hedged.

  “How kind of him.”

  Victoria forced a smile. “Yes, Alexander is the soul of kindness.”

  “Return to bed and wait for your tea,” the duchess said. “We wouldn’t want you relapsing.” At that, she quit the chamber.

  Two hours later, Victoria stood with Alexander in the courtyard. She glanced at her betrothal ring, sparkling in the sunshine, and then looked at him.

  “I’ll miss you.”

  “Thank you, love.” Alexander lifted her hands to his lips and then leaned close to kiss her. “Be ready for the opera, Thursday at seven.”

  Victoria watched until his coach vanished from sight. She turned toward the mansion and stopped short. Her brothers-in-law stood there, their grins boding ill for her.

  “Excuse me.” Victoria lifted her nose into the air as she passed them.

  “We know what Alex and you were doing,” Rudolf teased her.

  Victoria ignored him. Realizing she would never win, Victoria hurried inside, but the sounds of their laughter chased her up the stairs.

  Chapter 6

  “I am desperate to learn,” Victoria pleaded.

  Standing in the front room of the small house on Oxford Street near Soho Square, Victoria looked at Phineas and Barnaby Philbin, who tutored her sisters’ children. Slightly overweight, Phineas appeared to be in his early forties; slightly underweight, Barnaby appeared to be in his late thirties. Both men were short of stature with nondescript brown hair and eyes, but kindness shone in their expressions.

  “If you can teach my nephews and nieces to read, you can teach me,” Victoria said, desperation tingeing her voice.

  “What is wrong, Lady Victoria?” Phineas asked.

  “My letters and numbers misbehave,” Victoria answered, making the two brothers smile. “My b’s look like d’s and the sixes look like nines.”

  “Would you be amenable to taking lessons with the children?” Barnaby asked.

  “That would be too embarrassing,” Victoria told him. “The Earl of Winchester and I will soon be married, and I will live in Grosvenor Square.”

  “Accept our best wishes,” Phineas said. “The earl is a lucky man to have won your hand in marriage.”

  Victoria smiled, pleased with his compliment. “I thank you, sir.”

  “Shall we give you lessons at Grosvenor Square?” Barnaby asked.

  “I prefer to take my lessons here,” Victoria answered. “I want to improve before I tell the earl about my stupidity.”

  “Your having lessons here would be improper,” Phineas told her.

  “I can see no impropriety if both of us are present,” Barnaby amended, seeing her disappointed expression.

  Phineas nodded agreement with his brother. “Thursday afternoon is the only time during the week when we are free together.”

  “Thursday is perfect,” Victoria said, with a relieved smile. “I will pay for the lessons even when I am required elsewhere on a Thursday.”

  “That is most generous, my lady,” Barnaby said.

  Phineas walked to the desk near the window and reached for parchment and ink. He wrote a few words, sanded the paper, and turned around. “Sit here, Lady Victoria, and read what I have written,” he said. “We need to test your current ability.”

  Victoria sat at the desk where she could see by the light streaming through the window. She took the parchment and stared at it. Moving her lips silently, Victoria tried to sound out the words in her mind before she spoke. Then she set the parchment flat on the desk and leaned close. With one finger pointed at the words, Victoria read haltingly as if each syllable was a separate word.

  “At nine in the morn-ing, the dark-ing bog saw in the bark dog.”

  Victoria lifted her gaze to the two brothers. Hope and determination shone at them from the depths of her blue eyes.

  Both men smiled and then turned their backs to stroll across the chamber to confer in private. Watching, Victoria willed them to accept her as a student. What would she do if they refused her? Where could she go? How could she explain her stupidity to Alexander? The Philbin brothers were her only hope.

  Phineas and Barnaby spoke in low voices but seemed to be in the midst of a heated discussion. Victoria knew that was not a good sign. Abruptly, the brothers walked back to the desk.

  “Lady Victoria, you are not stupid,” Phineas told her.

  “I’m not?”

  Barnaby shook his head. “You suffer from word blindness.”

  “Certain letters and numbers become jumbled inside your mind,” Phineas explained.

  “I told you that a few minutes ago,” Victoria said, wondering if they could be as stupid as she.

  “There is no cure for word blindness,” Barnaby told her. “At least, we have never known anyone who has been cured.”

  Victoria closed her eyes against the disappointment, frustration, and anguish. Her bottom lip quivered, but she managed to swallow a sob of failure.

  Victoria knew she couldn’t marry Alexander now and would need to tell him about her hopeless condition. Alexander hadn’t sought her out or wanted to marry her. Aunt Roxie had proposed the match, and Alexander had accepted in order to make amends for what Charles Emerson had done to her father. How could she marry a man who didn’t love her and had no idea that he was trapping himself into a marriage with a stupid woman?

  “My brother and I do know certain strategies that can help you read simple sentences,” Phineas said.

  Victoria brightened at that. “Can you teach me enough to read bedtime stories to my children and the Times gossip column?” she asked, making them smile.

  “We can teach you how to live with this impediment,” Barnaby told her. “You know, my lady, gentlemen like the earl want a wife who doesn’t think too much. Society gentlemen want to know more than their ladies.”

  “All men want to think they know more than all women,” Victoria corrected him. “There is no danger in my knowing more than the earl. Alexander is highly intelligent and the smartest man I have ever met.”

  “That a bride should feel such admiration for her husband is a good thing,” Phineas said. Then he warned her, “Learning won’t be easy for you.”

  “I promise to be the hardest-working student ever,” Victoria said, her enthusiasm apparent. “Thank you so very much.” Then she surprised the two bachelors by giving each a kiss on the cheek, making them blush. “Shall I come here Thursday afternoon?”

  Both men nodded. “We will be waiting,” Phineas said.

  “Oh, I can hardly wait to learn.” Victoria turned toward the door but paused before leaving. “What did the parchment say?”

  Barnaby lifted the parchment off the desk and read, “At six in the morning, the barking dog was in the dark bog.”

  Victoria frowned. She hadn’t even been close. “You read beautifully,” she praised the tutor.

  Victoria arrived home at tea time. Climbing the stairs to the second-floor drawing room, she wondered if her aunt had noted her absence. Victoria wanted no one to know what she was doing until her reading improved. Then, if the Philbin brothers really did help her, she would give a reading recital for the whole family. That ridiculous thought brought a smile to her lips.

  “Where have you been?” Aun
t Roxie rose from the settee when she walked into the room.

  “I was visiting Samantha and forgot the time,” Victoria lied.

  “Alexander sent a note and will be here in a couple of hours.” Aunt Roxie escorted her out of the drawing room and up the stairs to her bedchamber. “He wants you to wear blue, and I’ve selected the sapphire blue silk.”

  “He’s telling me what to wear?”

  “I’m certain he has a good reason for the request,” her aunt said, gesturing across the chamber. “The bath is set up behind the screen. My maid will bring you tea and then dress your hair. Don’t dally, Tory.”

  Victoria left her bedchamber two hours later and walked down the corridor to the stairs. The gown’s bodice sported short melon sleeves, and a sash tied in a big bow at her back-waist. The fashionably short skirt showed her ankles and feet encased in silk stockings and sandals.

  Alexander turned when she walked into the drawing room and smiled, savoring the sight of her walking toward him. Her delight in seeing him gleamed from the depths of her blue eyes.

  “Lady Victoria, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” Alexander said, lifting her hand to his lips.

  “My lord, you are a flatterer,” Victoria said, her lips turned up in a pleased smile.

  “On the contrary, I enjoy the reputation of being an honest man.” Alexander produced a midnight blue velvet-covered box. “I requested that you wear blue because of my gift.”

  Opening the box, Alexander smiled at her surprised expression. A sapphire and diamond necklace set in platinum lay on a bed of midnight blue velvet. With it was a sapphire and diamond bracelet.

  “This gift seems excessive,” Victoria said, lifting her gaze to his.

  “Darling, jewels are never excessive,” Aunt Roxie drawled. “If covering you in jewels makes Alex happy, then accept them with a pretty smile and a thank-you.”

  “Turn around.” Alexander lifted the necklace out of the box and fastened the necklace. Next came the bracelet.

  “You had better curb your spending,” Victoria warned him. “I have no wish to live in the poorhouse again.”

  Alexander laughed. “Thank you for humoring me by accepting these gifts.”

  “Thank you, Alex.” Victoria planted a chaste kiss on his lips.

  “I did promise to drape you in diamonds,” Alexander said, slipping her hand through the crook of his arm.

  “No pearls?”

  “I will drape you in diamonds, place you in pearls, engulf you in emeralds, and soak you in sapphires,” Alexander promised her.

  “Rubies?”

  He gave her a devastating smile. “I intend to roll you in rubies.”

  Escorting her to his coach, Alexander wondered why he hadn’t noticed how beautiful she was until the previous weekend, less than three weeks before their marriage. Probably, he hadn’t noticed her at all. He had been busy with more pressing matters like his estates, his three demanding former mistresses, and his half-sister’s impending return from Australia.

  “I missed you,” Victoria said, as soon as the coach moved.

  Alexander slipped his arm around her shoulder and drew her close, so close that he inhaled her vanilla scent. He said nothing. In truth, he wasn’t sure if she was sincere or practicing her wiles on him. He had missed her, too, but had no intention of telling her that and letting her get the upper hand. No woman was ever getting the upper hand with him again. Especially not his eighteen-year-old bride.

  Victoria had hoped that he’d missed her, too. Perhaps her expectations had been too high. Alexander didn’t love her, after all. He hadn’t sought a union with her, merely accepted her aunt’s proposed match because he wanted to clear his conscience about what Charles Emerson had done to her family.

  Would Alexander ever love her or harbor a fondness for her? Probably not. Who could love a stupid woman? True, no man looked for intelligence in a prospective mate, but no man would want to become known as the husband of the village idiot. How long would it be before Alexander realized his mistake in marrying her and sought comfort in the arms of a smarter woman?

  “I always attend the opera on Thursday evenings because it relaxes me,” Alexander told her. “Rudolf and Samantha will meet us at the Wilmingtons’ ball. I must warn you that society will be curious about whom I have chosen as my countess. Do not let their stares bother you.”

  “I wish you hadn’t told me that,” Victoria said. “I dislike attention on me and will worry about doing something wrong.”

  “You don’t like surprises, either,” Alexander reminded her. “The surprises this week have all been pleasant.”

  “You are correct, my lord,” Victoria said. “Especially if I discount being threatened, seduced, and almost spanked.”

  “Are you fluent in Italian?” Alexander asked, changing the subject.

  Good God, she wasn’t even fluent in English. Was she required to speak a foreign language? “I am unfamiliar with Italian.”

  “Then I will translate for you,” Alexander said. “I know you have attended the opera with your aunt and uncle. You did know that opera is sung in Italian?”

  “I never gave the matter my attention.”

  “To what did you give your attention?”

  “Intermission.”

  Alexander laughed just as their coach halted in front of the Royal Opera House on Bow Street. Which is why, when a smiling Alexander climbed out of the coach, the crowd of aristocrats stared at the usually somber Earl of Winchester. Whispers swept through the theater’s lobby that the Earl of Winchester and Lady Victoria Douglas, his betrothed, appeared very much in love.

  Victoria kept her gaze on Alexander as they walked through the crowded lobby and up the stairs to his box. He nodded greetings to many aristocrats but didn’t stop to speak to anyone, for which Victoria was grateful. She needed to accustom herself to the curious stares.

  “People are watching us through their lorgnettes,” Victoria whispered, feeling uncomfortable. She despised being the center of attention as much as she hated surprises and church services.

  “Intermission will be worse,” Alexander said, moving his chair close to her. He lifted her hand to his lips, murmuring, “Most will want an introduction.”

  “People are watching you hold my hand,” Victoria whispered.

  “I am performing for their scintillating edification,” Alexander said, his eyes bright with amusement. “Now then, sweetheart, tonight’s opera is The Marriage of Figaro by Mozart.” Alexander rested his arm on the back of her chair.

  “He is the composer?”

  “Mozart’s opera is the sequel to The Barber of Seville,” Alexander said as the orchestra began the overture. “Count Almaviva married Rosina, a young heiress, in spite of her guardian’s intentions to marry her. A man named Figaro assisted the count in his intrigue.

  “When tonight’s opera opens, three years have passed. The count and countess are bored in their marriage. The count spends his days touring his estates and bedding as many pretty girls as possible.”

  “The count is unfaithful to his wife?” Victoria asked. “Is that a proper subject?”

  “We don’t see the count making love to those women,” Alexander whispered against her ear, his hand dropping to her bare shoulder and beginning a slow caress.

  Victoria felt hot and cold at the same time. How could she follow the opera when his hand distracted her?

  “The day before the story begins, the count called on Barbarina, the twelve-year-old daughter of his chief gardener,” Alexander said, his warm breath on the side of her neck making her nerves tingle. “He found his young page Cherubino there and dismissed him from his service. Cherubino loves all women, especially Countess Almaviva, to whom he appeals to intercede for him with the count.”

  Victoria’s breath caught raggedly when Alexander’s fingers left her shoulder and stroked the side of her neck. When she turned her head to look at him, he said, “Until recently, the count has enjoyed the ancient
custom of le droit de seigneur.”

  “What is that?”

  “Le droit de seigneur gives the lord the right to bed any of his dependents on her wedding night.” Alexander grinned when she whirled toward him in surprise.

  “You mean that—?”

  “The lord has the right to deflower any woman he desires on her wedding night,” Alexander said. “The lord expects obedience when he orders the woman to disrobe and lie on the bed. He would join her there and kiss every inch of her flesh from her neck to her breasts and the inside of her thighs. The lord would suckle her pink-tipped breasts, licking and nipping her aroused nipples.”

  Victoria felt her breasts swelling. Her nipples ached for his mouth.

  “The folds of flesh between her thighs would be wet,” Alexander continued, his voice husky. “She would spread her legs and invite the lord’s hardness into her body. Thrusting himself deep inside her, the lord would ride her until she melted and cried out her pleasure.”

  Victoria closed her eyes and made a whimpering sound in her throat. Pressing his lips to her ear, Alexander asked, “Are you wet for me, Tory?”

  “Yes.”

  Victoria stared at the stage without seeing and heard the music without listening. Instead, in her mind’s eye, she watched the previous Sunday’s amorous tryst. She became aware of where she was when intermission began.

  “You will charm everyone who begs an introduction,” Alexander said.

  Victoria flashed him a smile filled with confidence, a confidence she didn’t feel. The only reason Alexander considered her charming was because he hadn’t yet realized how stupid she was.

  And then society descended upon their box. Victoria decided the best course of action was to smile and say little. She managed to do that until she sensed a change in the atmosphere around her. Aristocrats in other boxes were turning to stare. Several had their opera glasses fixed on them.

  Victoria saw two gentlemen and a dark-haired beauty of about twenty-five greeting Alexander. She felt his discomfort and glanced at his tense expression. Something was happening that she didn’t understand.