The Widowed Countess Read online

  “Stedman and Vardon in Bond Street, and make it fast,” Grandby ordered, stepping into his coach. He was barely seated when the coach lurched forward to make its way up St. James Street. He took the opportunity to breathe, feeling rather proud that he had enough sense to stop at a jewelers to secure a rather expensive bauble before heading home for dinner. I’m going to be a father, he thought again. For a man of his age – he was in his forties – to marry a widow – who, as near as he could tell was in her thirties – to discover he was going to be a father, was, well, it wasn’t exactly a miracle, he knew. Lord Seward had fathered his fourth son when he was in his seventies, and although some claimed he’d had a bit of help in that regard (there had been rumors he’d been cuckolded by his wife), the boy was the spitting image of him. Poor child.

  But for Grandby to think of himself as a father was ... unthinkable. He was the godfather to the ton’s sons and daughters, not a father.

  Adele, bless her heart.

  Why hadn’t she said anything? Was she afraid he wouldn’t want a child? She must have known he needed an heir. Was she waiting for the right time to tell him? Perhaps she intended to tell him tonight during dinner. She’d said something about arranging for his favorite meal to be served that evening. Or did she even know she was expecting?

  That last thought had him pausing suddenly. There was something different, he was sure now. It wasn’t just that she had put on a few pounds. She was ... more beautiful, to be sure, her smile more radiant. And she was certainly more willing to be bedded. Christ, she’d been in his bed as much as he’d been in hers this past month or so!

  What had Everly said?

  Be prepared to bed your wife more frequently. Her appetite for your favors will be insatiable.

  He was still ruminating on insatiable appetites when the coach came to a stop in front of the goldsmith’s shop. He was out of the coach before the footman could even move to get the door open, hurrying into the shop at Number 36. Scanning one of the display cases, he wondered what would be appropriate. He’d never bought jewelry for a an expectant wife before. Necklace? Bracelet? Ear bobs? Brooch? All of the above? And with what gemstone?

  “May I be of assistance, my lord?” Mr. Stedman wondered, stepping up to the counter where Grandby’s attention was directed at a collection of necklaces displayed on black velvet.

  When Grandby looked up, a panicked expression on his face, one of Stedman’s eyebrows lifted. “Have you forgotten a special occasion, perhaps?” he asked sotto voce. The jeweler noted Grandby’s nervousness. “Or, is there one about to occur?”

  “Yes,” Grandby replied with a quick nod of his head. Not knowing if Stedman could be trusted to keep a secret, Grandby was trying to decide how to broach the subject of an appropriate gift.

  “Does it involve your ... wife?” Stedman ventured. He had to be careful – too many men of the ton purchased baubles for their mistresses – usually of better quality than the ones they purchased for their wives.

  “Yes.”

  Stedman nodded, pulling a tray of necklaces from another drawer. “Does she look better in blue or red?” he asked then, showing him a display of sapphire and ruby necklaces featuring his signature gold filigree chains and settings. He pulled out another tray, this one showing two rather ornate diamond necklaces. “Or white?”

  Grandby pondered the questions, thinking she looked her very best when she was wearing nothing at all. Was there any reason he had to choose a color? Why not all of them? “I’ll take one of each,” he announced, pointing in turn at one of each that he supposed would look especially lovely on his naked, expectant wife.

  Mr. Stedman’s eyebrows lifted so they nearly joined his hairline. “Very good, my lord,” he answered with a nod, secretly wondering what momentous occasion could induce a gentleman to purchase three necklaces for his wife. Had he been caught with another woman? “Should I have them ... delivered?”

  His own brows furrowing, as if they had to even out Stedman’s still mighty high brows, Grandby shook his head. “Heavens, no. I wish to give them to her tonight.”

  “All of them, my lord?” the jeweler replied, obviously astonished by Grandby’s proclamation.

  “Yes. Of course. After dinner. Or maybe one during dinner and one during dessert and the other one after dinner.” He checked his Breguet. “Which is scheduled to start in fifteen minutes,” he said in a voice filled with enough warning that Mr. Stedman was motivated to move the selected necklaces into black velvet-lined boxes with great speed.

  “Thank you,” the earl stated as he collected the three necklace boxes and headed for the door. “Wish me luck.”

  Rather happy to have made such a large sale, and to such an esteemed gentleman as the Earl of Torrington, the jeweler stared at the door to his shop for a long time after the earl had departed. “I might have wished him luck if he had paid for his purchases,” Stedman grumbled to the now empty shop. He took out a large sheet of parchment and prepared to complete a bill of sale to have sent to Grandby’s home.

  Adele Grandby descended the central stairs in Worthington House, her shoulders pulled back and her head held as high as she dared. Glancing down, she was a bit dismayed to discover she couldn’t see the next step down. At least her lack of vision wasn’t due to her swelling abdomen, which wasn’t really that swollen.

  Yet.

  Her ample bosom was the culprit. Tonight, thanks to her maid having tugged on her corset strings a bit more than usual, the swells of her breasts were mounded well above the neckline of her low-cut gown. The deep sapphire blue silk brought out the violet of her eyes and contrasted beautifully with her golden blonde hair, its streaks of gray indicating just the barest hint of her age. Her hair was caught up in an elegant coiffure featuring a series of curls across the front and a chignon in the back. Tiny sapphire ear bobs hung from her ears, bouncing against her neck as she took each step.

  At the sound of the front door opening, she paused, hoping her husband had finally returned from White’s. He was late tonight – not especially so, but enough so that the flutterbies in Adele’s stomach had more time to fly about. After her walk with Clarinda, she had decided tonight was the night she would tell him her news. She still hadn’t quite figured out how she would tell him, but she would.

  Maybe during the soup course.

  No, that wouldn’t do. If he was too stunned or upset at the news, he might leave the dining room and order the rest of his dinner be taken to his apartment.

  Perhaps during the fish course. Her stomach roiled at the thought of fish, and she remembered her instructions to the cook that no fish be served that evening.

  Dessert, she decided. She would tell him over dessert.

  Holding her pose on the steps, Adele waited patiently as she heard the butler welcome the earl. She heard her husband ask about dinner. She imagined Milton removing his great coat, imagined him giving Bernard his top hat and cane. She imagined him looking slightly tousled and ever so confident and calm and collected ...

  She blinked as she realized she was suddenly staring down at him. Grandby had come from the vestibule – no, he had shot out of the vestibule, as if from a canon, his eyes wild, his hair even more so, his hands filled with small black boxes. He had been running, and when he was halfway to the dining room, he had attempted to stop, his Hessians sliding on the marble floors and leaving black streaks in their wake until he could turn around and retrace his steps. He had finally come to a dead stop at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Hallo,” he managed to say as he stared up at her, his mouth hanging wide open, his arms dropped to his sides, the flat boxes barely held by his long, tapered fingers. When he closed his mouth, his cheeks puffed out a bit, and then he opened his mouth again, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Adele had to stifle a giggle when she was reminded of one of Lord Everly’s tr
opical fish.

  “Good evening, Milton,” she answered, resuming her regal descent down the stairs. When she reached the last one, she curtsied.

  Moving all the boxes he held to the crook of one arm, Grandby bowed and brought her hand to his lips, kissing the knuckles. “Are you ... are you going somewhere?” he wondered, his voice very quiet.

  Adele arched an elegant eyebrow. “I am.” She motioned toward the dining room. “Would you care to join me?”

  Grandby swallowed, his gaze taking her in from the tips of her satin slippers to the top of her curls, pausing briefly on her décolletage. Adele found herself wondering if he had misinterpreted her invitation and intended to join her there by planting his face between her breasts. “I would, my lady,” he replied, his casual and confident demeanor having just then returned. He held out his available arm and Adele placed a hand on it, giving him a tentative smile as they followed his black streak marks to the dining room.

  “I bought you a gift,” Grandby stated as he indicated the boxes barely held in the crook of his arm.

  Adele angled her head, intrigued by the way he said the words. “A gift?” she repeated, giving the slim boxes a pointed glance. Adele knew from experience what they contained. “Is assembly required?”

  Grandby placed the slim boxes on the table between where they would be sitting that evening. “A bit,” he answered, his mischievous grin appearing. He lifted one of the boxes and peeked inside, quickly shutting it and setting it aside. “Wrong color,” he murmured, lifting another box. He barely opened it and his eyebrows cocked. He glanced in her direction, shaking his head before closing that box. He set it atop the other one. Without looking inside, he gave the last box to her.

  Drawing her long fingers along the top edges, Adele knew what hid inside boxes of this shape and size. She’d received enough gemstones during her time with Worthington to recognize a jeweler’s velvet covered pasteboard box. Gifts such as these were bestowed for a reason, though, and since there were no special occasions scheduled anytime soon ... and there were three boxes ... “Have you gone and done something naughty?” she asked then, a flush of color rising to her face. “Several times?”

  Stunned at her question, and knowing her use of the word ‘naughty’ really did mean ‘naughty,’ as in, he’d been guilty of participating in some kind of bad behavior that involved Cyprians or courtesans, Grandby’s eyes widened. “No!” he claimed, his head shaking back and forth. “Well, only with you,” he amended, looking ever so contrite. “The result of which is why I bought this ..,” he motioned toward the box, “... for you.” One hand lifted to cover his eyes a moment when he realized he hadn’t actually bought the necklaces – he’d managed to leave Stedman and Vardon without having paid, or at least arranging for the bill to be sent to him! It was a wonder a constable hadn’t shown up at the front door.

  At the sound of the front door being opened by the butler, Grandby nearly panicked and then realized it was probably just the bill being delivered. Certainly Stedman would know to have the bill sent to him at home.

  “What is it?” Adele asked, seeing the flash of distress cross his face.

  “Well, open it,” he replied, surprised she hadn’t behaved like every other mistress he had ever employed by tearing the lid off the box before it was even out of his hands.

  “I will. When you tell me why,” Adele countered, rising up to regard him, her expression once more severe.

  Grandby blew air out from between his lips and shrugged. He remembered the discussion at the card table at White’s. “Remember last Christmas? When we were snowed in at Torrington Park? And we spent all that time ... being bad? And since then, you’ve continued to be rather bad? Insatiable, in fact.” At Adele’s suddenly arched eyebrow and startled expression, he hurried on. “Which I don’t mind a bit. I rather adore it, really. I do,” he was saying as his head bobbed up and down. “And now you look as if you’ve eaten a few too many tea cakes and ...” His hand had suddenly moved to her belly and protectively rested there. He let out a sigh.

  “Milton!” Adele whispered. Her arms wrapped around his neck, one hand still clutching the box and her lips finding his to kiss him as thoroughly as she could. When a maid suddenly entered from the butler’s pantry, she gasped and quickly retreated from the room.

  Grandby stifled his chuckle and instead nuzzled Adele’s neck with his nose and lips. “Did I get it right?” he asked then, suddenly wondering what he would do if he had misjudged the whole scenario.

  “Oh, yes,” Adele whispered, kissing his jaw and his neck. “I was going to tell you tonight. During the dessert course.”

  Taking a step back, Grandby ran his gaze down the front of Adele again. “And I was going to give you that during the dessert course,” he countered, his head nodding toward the black velvet box Adele still held. “But I rather doubt we’ll make it to the dessert course, my love,” he added. “Unless we take it up in my bedchamber,” he suggested, an eyebrow waggling.

  Adele smiled, her cheeks flushing pink. “You are incorrigible,” she murmured. She held the box up between them. “Some assembly, hum?”

  “I’ll help you put it on,” he offered as he took the box from her and opened it. The sapphires sparkled with blue-violet light, the gold glinting from the flames in the chandelier overhead.

  “Oh, it’s beautiful,” Adele breathed, reaching out with a fingertip to gently nudge the necklace around the raised circle in the middle of the box. “I do hope it’s a boy,” she said then, her attention returning to him.

  Grandby shrugged. “I was thinking a girl, but if it’s a boy, we can always be bad and have another,” he suggested hopefully. In for a penny, in for a pound. Lifting the necklace from the velvet bed, he opened it around her neck and secured the clasp. He noticed Adele’s attention on the other two boxes.

  “Did you try to guess what color gown I would be wearing tonight?” she wondered, her fingers barely touching the gold filigree and sapphires that encircled her neck. She couldn’t imagine what stones might be featured in the other necklaces.

  “I didn’t actually buy them to go with any particular gown,” Grandby countered, his lips curling up as he regarded the sapphires, deciding they looked especially regal with the gown and ear bobs she was wearing at the moment. He tried to imagine her in just the necklace and ear bobs, and he found he rather liked that image even better. He glanced back at the table. “Now that I think on it, I was rather patriotic when I made by selections,” he added, the mischief back in his eyes. “And a bit naughty, too,” he added.

  “Oh?” Adele replied, one eyebrow arching up. “Do tell.”

  Shrugging in that way he had of making himself seem cavalier and confident at the same time, Grandby leaned closer and whispered in her ear.

  Adele regarded her husband for several moments and cocked her head to one side. “Indeed?” she commented. “Then what were you imagining me wearing..?” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Milton!” she admonished him.

  “You can wear them with gowns, of course,” the earl assured her quickly, hoping she hadn’t just thought the very worst of him at that moment. “But, if you would be so accommodating, I would love to see these on you while you’re ... wearing nothing but my bed linens, so to speak. Perhaps, later tonight?” he hinted hopefully.

  Although her face kept its slightly flushed coloring, Adele gave him a teasing smile. “Milton Grandby, if I wasn’t so damned hungry, I’d let you undress me and have your way with me right now. On this table,” she whispered, leaning in to capture his lips with another kiss.

  Grandby’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her hard against his body just as the maid reappeared with the soup course. Letting out a gasp, the servant immediately turned around and started to go back into the butler’s pantry.

  “Hold it right there,” Grandby said, pulling away from
the kiss. He waved toward the maid. “We’re ready for dinner. Truly.” He placed Adele’s hand on his arm and led her to a place to his right. “However, my lady will be eating here instead of way down there,” he said, pulling the chair out from the table. A footman, who had apparently appeared from almost nowhere, hurried to reset the table so that Adele’s place setting was in front of her before she’d even taken her seat. “And we’ll be having the dessert course in my apartment,” he added to the second footman who appeared with wine.

  “Very good, my lord,” the footman murmured as he poured the wine. Within seconds, the servants had disappeared and the two lovebirds were left enjoying their dinner.

  They enjoyed the dessert far more.

  Chapter 7

  Daniel Arrives

  Daniel Fitzwilliam, the second son of the ninth Earl of Norwick, reined in his horse as he approached the semi-circular drive in front of Norwick House. The fashionable mansion in Park Lane featured the de rigueur Palladian style architecture that had become so popular at the turn of the century. Grecian columns acted as sentries on either side of a set of large double-doors and held up a portico above the landing at the top of the deep, shallow steps. A pair of topiary trees flanked the columns. Rows of arched windows were lined out on either side the front of the house, various plantings at their base trimmed so as not to hinder the view from inside. The effect was stately and elegant, a London-based home suitable for an earl and his wife in which to live and entertain. A home suitable for Daniel’s older brother, the tenth Earl of Norwick.