Page 13 of Captivating the Countess
“I doubt you’re the cause of Miss Rutledge’s departure.” The duke took a sip from a glass on the bedside table. “That’s entirely on Rain’s head.”
“The servants have been gossiping.” Alicia made a moue of disapproval.
“No, Rain sent me a note.” He pointed at a paper beside the glass. “Said he’d be up to explain as soon as the dust settled. I assume the dust isn’t quite settled?”
“Oh, well, after that, Mrs. Bianco departed in a huff and a circus, and Lady Rutledge left with her, and of course, Lady Craigmore arrived, and we’re all at sixes and sevens.” Alicia seemed quite pleased with the chaos.
“Ah, yes, the house did seem remarkably quieter. And you have finished your musical?” He lifted his sparse, graying eyebrows.
“No, it is very bad.” Alicia grimaced. “Perhaps I should take up painting instead. Teddy seems to do well.”
“I think,” Bell said quietly, “if you have not found a desperate desire to splash paint on canvas, you may not have a gift for art, either.”
The duke nodded in agreement. “Teddy started drawing on walls the instant he could put his pudgy hands around pencils. That is how he expresses himself.”
Alicia kicked the bed but didn’t disagree.
“And you, Lady Craigmore? I understand you have a gift for ghosts? I had an ancestor who talked to the Sommersville ghosts.” The duke waited in interest.
Bell tried not to look too pained. “I believe I’ve read her journals. I am not quite so sanguine about speaking to spirits. I generally do notseeghosts as your ancestor did. They invade my head and clamor to be heard and are not necessarily related to you or me or anyone useful. I am attempting to learn to block them out.”
“But you listened to the one that brought you here.”
Startled by the male voice in the doorway, Bell grabbed the chair arm and counted backward from a hundred. Once she’d steadied herself, she shot the marquess a glare. “I listened to Lady Agatha and Lady Gertrude, who told me you had a position.”
The marquess crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder against the door jamb. In the dim light, his hair appeared frost colored. “That’s not all you told me.”
She refused to disturb the duke by mentioning the spirit of his mother. Standing, she dipped a curtsy. “It is good to meet you, your grace. I’ll leave you to discuss the day’s events with your son. I should help Mrs. Malcolm with her packing.”
“Rain, you are such a stick-in-the-mud! No wonder Araminta left you. Now you are even driving away Lady Craigmore.” Alicia glared at her brother.
“Your brother believes he is being protective. One would think his sisters would have cured him of that habit by now.” Bell refused to squeeze through the doorway until the marquess shifted. “If you will excuse me?”
He’d shaved before dinner. She could smell his spicy soap. To her, Rainford was intimidatingly tall and broad. His Ives cousins were more muscular, she supposed. She’d simply rather not be exposed to all that... towering arrogance... at close proximity.
“It is my responsibility to be protective of my family.” He didn’t move. “It is only because you are on the fringe of our family that I have hired you. I’ll see you in your office at nine, and we’ll take a look at what Davis has left behind.”
He finally stepped aside, allowing her to pass. Bell was aware of his gaze on her as she hurried down the hall.
She wanted to curse interfering men, but she had to respect the marquess for looking after his fractious relations. She’d never had a man like that in her life. Experience had taught her she didn’t need one. She hoped the marquess would recognize that, or she’d never be able to stay.
Winifred really didn’t require aid in packing, but Bell wanted the comfort of her sensible presence for one last evening. After this, she’d be entirely on her own in a strange household. She’d learned how to do it once, when she was running for her life. She could do it again—with sufficient incentive.
“You met the duke!” Winifred beamed at her proudly when Bell told her. “How does he seem?”
“It is hard for me to judge, since I didn’t know him when he was healthy. He’s a large man like his son, but he seems all skin and bones, as if he needs nourishment.”
Winifred tapped a small ledger she’d left on the table. “I’ve copied all the herbal recipes I know for nourishing invalids in here. I’m sure Rainford has his own, but it doesn’t hurt for him to compare. That young cousin of his who will inherit does not seem quite mature enough to handle great responsibility. I’m not one for prolonging life when a person is ready to go, mind you, but keeping the duke alive seems essential for more reasons than one.”
“Surely a man like the marquess will have no difficulty in finding another bride? Perhaps he’s learned his lesson and will choose one willing to marry quickly.” Bell flipped through the notebook, but she knew very little of herbal remedies. She had a slight affinity for bees, but her specialty apparently wasdeadpeople.
“Marry a woman who simply wishes to be a marchioness and a duchess one day? That seems a lonely way to choose a bride, but perhaps he finds companionship elsewhere.” Winifred laid out her traveling gown for the morrow.
“You mean a mistress? That might be another reason Miss Rutledge ran away. And if she wasn’t as intelligent or sophisticated as his sisters, there is still another reason. They are a force of nature. It would be difficult to find a bride who could stand up to them.”
“Except another Malcolm.” Winifred’s eyes twinkled. “Only he needs a woman who will bear him a son.”
Bell wrinkled her nose, knowing the argument there. “And there are very few Ives females. I am not familiar enough with the family to know if there are any the right age and marriage status. I’m sure he has a list. Do not look to me to help him in his search. I am simply praying his lovesick steward did not leave the books in a muddle.”
