Page 22 of Captivating the Countess
He had the kitchen prepare tasty dishes for his father using the herbs and roots recommended in the receipt book. He arranged for those same concoctions to be available for the countess under the theory that any good nutritional food might help.
If she fainted again, she didn’t do it in his presence. She did leave useful comparison reports on his desk to reassure him that Davis had performed his duties to satisfaction.
The damned female hadagreedwith him when he’d said marriage wouldn’t necessarily make him happy. Were women supposed to do that? Weren’t they supposed to flaunt their wiles and assure him that they were the ones who could make him very happy?
Did he want the countess to flaunt her wiles? Rain had an uneasy suspicion that he did. And he was quite certain that she wouldn’t. The one damned female in the kingdom who stirred his interest was the one he couldn’t have and who didn’t want him. He hadn’t realized he was perverse. He’d always been the steady, level-headed member of the family. Someone had to be.
The night before the guests were to descend, Teddy declared his sketch of the countess complete and implored her—again—to let him paint her.
Rainford watched warily as the lady studied the sketch. He hid his relief when she shook her head.
“You are extremely talented, sir. Andgifted. I do see the spirit, somewhat. She is like a dark shadow haunting the corner of the room. But I’ve had no revelation of how to do what she wants, if it is the same woman as the one in my head.”
Rain strolled over to study the portrait. His cousin had sketched a lovely likeness of the countess peacefully holding a book in her lap, gazing into the distance—not dreamily, but with eyes wide open and a determined set to her jaw.
A halo of light centered her on the paper, but in the corner behind her, darkness lingered. Rain supposed he could imagine a phantom lingering there if he tried. “We have a portrait of our Norse grandmother in Somerset. Should I send for it?”
“Only if Teddy needs it.” The lady shrugged delicately beneath her shawl. “The voice I hear comes with no face. She is growing more insistent, though, pushing at me even when I am not faint. Perhaps that’s what the sketch was meant to do, bring her closer?”
Rainford was glad of the shawl concealing her charms. His sisters had done much too well with her wardrobe. Now he was hoping the shawl would fall to one side...
“If I could just paint you in oil—”
The countess shook her head emphatically, dislodging the shawl. She wore a flimsy scarf tucked into her fashionable bodice, but it didn’t conceal the shadow between her nicely rounded breasts.
“Do it from memory and that sketch,” she insisted. “I don’t advise bringing your oils down here, and I will not go to your studio.”
Rain thought he might encourage the argument in hopes that she might shake the scarf loose, but he had more self-control than his cousin. “We’ll have guests descending on the morrow. I’m sure Teddy will find new distractions among the widows.” He lifted an eyebrow at his disgruntled cousin. “Or you could court one of the younger misses. Take a lesson from me and don’t wait too late.”
His burly cousin shrugged. “I’m not ready for screaming brats yet. I ain’t the paternal sort.” He glanced at Lady Craigmore. “I might make an exception for present company.”
Rain resisted the urge to plow his fist into his cousin’s square jaw. Gut clenched, he waited for the lady’s response.
She merely looked amused, tapped Teddy’s cheek as if she were a hundred-year-old great-aunt, and Teddy, a mere whippersnapper. She left Teddy growling and joined the other women across the room.
“Some women can’t be flattered,” Rain said sympathetically, hiding his triumph.
Teddy returned his sketch to his easel. “She looks like a candy confection or a fairy princess with that pointy chin and those huge eyes, but the steel spine reaches all the way to her heart. Good choice for a steward, Cuz. If she decides the butler is stealing, she’ll throw him into a snowbank on his tiny bald head.”
Rain chuckled. “You haven’t seen her softer side. She didn’t strangle the kitten who traipsed ink over her accounts. She merely carried the creature to the nursery and let the nannies punish the culprit.” Although Alicia had recently reported that the countess had another of herspellswhen Alicia had carried the squawking parrot into the conservatory while Lady Craigmore had been there. The lady hadn’t murdered them either.
Teddy snorted. “Soft, indeed. Marry her, and she’ll have us all stepping in line like good soldiers.”
“You exaggerate. I’ve never once heard the countess lift her voice the way the rest of you do.” Rain studied the portrait some more. She did have a very determined chin, even if it was small and pointed. It stuck out only a little, and had a dimple in it.
“Oh, no, she speaks low so we have to listen closely. I tell you, she’s a lion tamer, mark my words.” Teddy finished packing his pencils and marched out, carrying the sketch and easel with him.
Estelle approached from behind, startling Rain from his reverie. “I heard you received a missive from Lady Rutledge. Have Davis and Araminta been found?”
Rain sipped his whiskey. “They weren’t lost. They went straight to York and obtained a license. Seems the lady didn’t need to wait for her father’s permission after all.”
He should be insulted. He was rather relieved. He’d even asked his York solicitor to aid them.
“Will that harm their chances of a decent settlement?” Estelle asked in concern.
“I shouldn’t think so.” He’d written Rutledge explaining Davis was an honorable gentleman who had the sense to love a good woman. He hoped the platitude was true. “Besides, I offered him the same annual stipend I offered all of you. He’s a cousin, after all. It seemed fair.”
She stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “You’re a good man under all that deadly scowling. Find a wife you enjoy bedding and forget all the rest.”
