Page 19 of Captivating the Countess
Alicia flounced into his office, uninvited, as Rain set down his books on the desk.
“I wish to have a house party. A small one, with friends from York, perhaps. Perhaps we could plan a fete for charity. We can invite eligible bachelors and auction off dances. Teddy can sell some of his ugly paintings.”
“You will not auction off dances. That’s appalling.” As soon as he said it, he knew he’d been manipulated. Before he could protest the house party as well, Alicia leapt into the gap.
“Fine, then. We’ll discuss other means of raising funds for the poor. Or for hospitals. I’m not sure yet. I’ll ask Mrs. Franklin to open up rooms for a party of forty, I think. Thank you!” She dashed out.
Rain reached for his barbells.
It was her house as well as his, he reminded himself as he shrugged out of his coat. Technically, the property was entailed to the duke. As eldest, and only, son, Rainford had been given full use of it once he’d reached his majority. The main ducal estate in Somerset was too ancient for modern entertaining, and the duke hadn’t seen fit to improve it. So the family gathered here in Northumberland. They’d all been given their apartments upon marriage or coming of age—a family tradition Rain was disinclined to end.
He lifted the heavy weights over his head. He could remove himself and the duke to Somerset, but the journey would be difficult for a man in ill health. And the family really needed to be around him if these were his last months of life.
So a house party, it was. Perhaps Alicia would invite someone she might marry.
More likely, she was lining up females for him to choose from. He pumped the weights harder.
Chatty misses just out of the nursery weren’t exactly his cup of tea. Look at how badly his choice of Araminta had turned out—and she’d been one of the quiet, older ones. Given his heritage, though, he need a woman young enough to bear children until he had a son.
He set down the weights and reached for his medical books. Keeping his mind occupied helped. He began studying the root cause of fainting. It didn’t take long to realize there was nothing new or useful in discussions of “blood humors” and certainly not in leeching. That was the last thing the woman needed. He should cull the library of this ancient rubbish.
Remembering a recent journal mentioning experiments with elevated blood pressure in patients with kidney disease, he turned to his shelves of medical journals to learn about blood pressure. He had no means of measuring it, and the countess seemed more anemic than ill—
Estelle rapped on his door and walked in without asking. She scowled at his dishabille. “A house party is just the thing. I’ll stay and help Alicia plan. I know several widows who might suit better than her young friends. Shall I invite a few of your acquaintances as well?”
Most of his friends were married these days. “If you can think of any bachelors to match the widows, be my guest.”
Once upon a time, she would have flung something at him. But his sister was a respectable married lady and mother now. She simply gave him one of those motherly disapproving glares, nodded, and stalked out.
Rain briefly contemplated kidnapping the countess, running off to Gretna Green, and hiding in her icy fortress in the frozen north. He liked the fantasy a little too much.
That was a problem. A wife who was unlikely to give him an heir would only postpone his current difficulty.
If only she were a widow interested in dalliance... The notion was far too appealing.
He gave up on searching his journals, donned his coat, and headed up the stairs to visit his father. Perhaps the duke had some insight into fainting females, especially Malcolm ones.
Down the family guest corridor, Teddy stood outside the countess’s door, imploring her to sit for him. “Only long enough for me to sketch,” his cousin begged.
Rain turned that direction instead of following his intended path. She was right. Resting in this household wasn’t likely.
Teddy was several inches shorter and a stone or two heavier than Rain. Rain grasped his cousin’s collar and yanked him backward, unbalancing him. “The countess is resting.”
“She is not,” Teddy countered, shaking off Rain’s grip. “She has told me to go to the devil and locked the door. That’s not resting. I just need to explain—”
“If a lady tells you no, you go away. That’s how it works.” Rain shoved him toward the back stairs, in the direction of his studio.
Teddy staggered, then straightened and dusted himself off. “You are the one who doesn’t understand. Just because you have no gift doesn’t mean the rest of us are incompetent because we do. I have to capture her spirit. My Muse speaks to me through my work. She’s trying to tell me something.”
“She’s trying to tell you to save the duke,” the countess called from behind her door. “That’s what my spirit is saying. If you wish to sketch me, you may do so over dinner, while I dine in the company of others.”
“Thank you, my lady,” Teddy called back. “I have never attempted public sketching, but with your permission, I will experiment.” He happily toddled off.
Rainford took a deep breath and let his silence speak for him. He’d learned it was a very effective technique. His sisters couldn’t resist questioning him.
Lady Craigmore could.
Fine, then, he’d leave her to rest. Except he knew she wasn’t resting, she was reading. He’d find out what later. For now, he’d visit the duke.
