Page 53 of The Marchioness of his Desire
There was something about the countess, a formidable confidence, and even now, Rebecca wondered if she might be telling the truth.
“What isshedoing here?” Edward asked, and Nicholas looked at him in surprise.
“I did not know the two of you were acquainted,” he said, and the countess shot Edward a warning glance.
“The countess and I are … old acquaintances,” Edward said, still playing nervously with his collar.
“Is that so? Then I am sure you will be pleased to dine together this evening,” Nicholas replied as the butler returned with a tray of sherry glasses.
“Why is it that you have invited us all here tonight?” the countess asked, settling herself down opposite Edward, still eyeing Rebecca who had taken a seat at Nicholas’ side.
She felt like a lamb surrounded by wolves, any of which might strike in an instant. Only Nicholas stood between them, the gate to the sheepfold, one she could only hope would stand firm.
“Did I not make it clear to each of you in my invitation?” Nicholas asked, and the countess laughed.
“You did not make it clear that we would enjoy one another’s company,” the countess replied, taking a sip of sherry.
“And why would you not enjoy one another’s company? You are all acquainted, after all,” Nicholas said, his words seeming like bait dangling upon a hook.
“Acquainted, yes,” Edward replied, narrowing his eyes.
“All in it for a fair price,” Rebecca whispered, and now the countess turned to her angrily.
“What do you mean by such words? A price?” she said, and Rebecca nodded, summoning all her courage as she faced the countess defiantly.
“A price, yes. I wonder what yours was, countess? If indeed you are so titled,” Rebecca replied, and the countess’ eyes flashed with anger.
“How dare you question me in such a way and speak of my price,” she declared, and Rebecca shook her head.
“Then why do you come here insisting my husband give you satisfaction for the child you carry? A child you claim is his and for which you desire compensation,” Rebecca replied, and the countess laughed.
“Do not blame me for your husband’s indiscretions, Lady Somerset,” she said, and Rebecca glanced at Nicholas, who took a deep breath.
“I do not blame him, for I do not believe you,” Rebecca replied, and now the countess appeared to grow angry.
“Then you are a naïve little fool,” she said, but Rebecca felt her anger take over, her nerves replaced by a desire only to see justice done and the truth revealed.
“You have no proof that this child you carry is Nicholas’, and you make claims you cannot support with facts. I do not even believe you were on Martinique when these events were alleged, but you were, Edward, were you not?” Rebecca said, and Edward spluttered into his sherry, a violent fit of coughing now seizing him.
“Now, now, Rebecca, we do not need such accusations,” her uncle said, in that patronizing tone he had always used with her when she was a child.
“Be quiet uncle, you are nothing but an old fool,” Rebecca said, and now it was her uncle’s turn to appear astonished.
Rebecca could not help but smile to herself at these words, for she had never in her life found the courage to speak to him in such a way, but it was true. He was an old fool: a mean, miserly and pitiful old man, for whom she could summon not an ounce of sympathy, given everything he had done to her and her sister in the past.
“Rebecca,” Nicholas whispered, but Rebecca shook her head.
“It is all right, Nicholas, it is the truth,” she said, just as the butler came to announce that dinner was served.
“I have never been so insulted,” Rebecca’s uncle hissed as the party filed through to the dining room.
Chapter Twenty-Three
There was a tense atmosphere in the room, made worse by the arrival of Nicholas’ mother, dressed all in black and with Waltham at her side. She gazed around the dining room with an imperious expression upon her face, taking the seat opposite where Nicholas sat at the head of the table.
“Duchess Sinclair,” Edward said, bowing to her, and Nicholas’ mother gave him a withering look.
“I have come as you asked, Nicholas,” his mother said, glancing at Rebecca.
