Page 23 of The Accidental Countess (Accidentally in Love #1)

T he mid-morning sun cut a blade of light through the drapes. In the solitude of his study, Stephen occupied himself with household ledgers. Despite the night they had shared, Emily had grown cold as if he intended to abandon the children, which wasn’t at all true. If the will granted guardianship of the children to Nigel Barrow, then the law protected those rights. He would have to talk to Nigel, to find out whether the man actually wanted to care for them.

A knock sounded upon the door, and Stephen rose. Instead of his wife, Farnsworth stood at the entrance. “Forgive me, my lord. These were sent to you by the solicitor, Mr. Robinson.” The butler handed him a sheaf of papers.

“Thank you, Farnsworth.”

After the butler left, Stephen studied the sealed document. He found it strange that papers could wreak such havoc in their lives. He withdrew a pair of spectacles from inside his pocket. Resting them on the bridge of his nose, he opened the will. Though he did not know for certain whether the document was legal, it did appear in order. Nigel Barrow was indeed named the guardian of Royce and Victoria, as Emily had feared.

Stephen read the will twice more but could find nothing out of the ordinary. With no other recourse, he penned a note to his own solicitor. The only way to argue the law was with an expert. In the meantime, he would obey the dictates, but only with the greatest of caution.

Emily’s uneasiness, that the will had been found only upon Nigel’s return, resonated with him as well. It was possible that the document was a forgery.

Nigel had invited them to stay, with the intention of leaving the children behind. It might be best to visit the man. Only then would he know whether or not he was trustworthy.

No time like the present, he decided. And though his wife would be furious, he wanted to see for himself what sort of man her uncle was.

The journey lasted a day and a half. To his surprise, Nigel’s estate was magnificent, far surpassing his expectations. Stephen’s coach circled around the gravel entrance, and he noted the impeccable gardens and manicured lawns.

Although Emily’s uncle did not possess a title, his wealth rivaled any viscount or baron. Falkirk would have fit into a single wing. It led Stephen to question how Nigel Barrow could have led such a life of luxury while allowing his other family members to suffer in poverty. Unless Barrow had sent money and Hollingford had squandered it, which was possible.

After Stephen disembarked from his carriage, a footman opened the front door and accepted his card. He was led into a drawing room decorated with rose-and-blue wallpaper. Mahogany tables and French gilded chairs adorned the space, while a piano was set against one wall.

Before long, a plump gentleman with snowy white whiskers entered, smiling brightly. He leaned heavily upon a walking stick. “You must be the Earl of Whitmore.”

Stephen inclined his head, and the gentleman gestured for him to sit down. “I am Nigel Barrow. Delighted to meet you, I must say. When I heard that you’d come, I had hoped my niece and the children would be with you.”

“On another visit, perhaps.” Stephen accepted a cup of tea, declining cream or sugar. Nigel seemed to be overly fond of sweet tea, for he added several large pinches of sugar with tongs.

“Well, then, what brings you here? I assume this is about the will.” Before Stephen could reply, Nigel continued. “Terribly sorry to hear about my nephew. He always seemed to be pouring money into unfortunate investments. I regret that I could not be there to help him.”

“He was in India a year ago, I understand. Did you see him?”

Nigel nodded. “Of course, of course. He told me about some of his losses, and I loaned him funds.” Shaking his head, he added, “I should have sent them directly to Emily, it seems.”

Nigel sipped his tea, then added another spoonful of sugar. “I sent Daniel hundreds of pounds over the years, but I fear Emily saw none of the benefit. I was gratified to hear that she married you, by the by. She’s had too much hardship in her life.”

Though the man’s regret appeared genuine, Stephen wasn’t entirely convinced that all was what it seemed to be. “How did you hear about our marriage?”

“Daniel wrote to me about it several months ago. He seemed to think his fortunes would change, now that Emily was settled.” With a light shrug, Nigel set his teacup down.

“About the children,” Stephen began. “Emily was quite upset to hear that her brother named you their guardian. She has been like a mother to them, all this time.”

Nigel smiled warmly. “I am sure she has given them the best of care. But you see, at the time Daniel made out his will, she was unmarried with no prospects. We thought it best that I oversee Royce’s inheritance, should anything happen to Daniel. And, unfortunately, his life was cut far too short.” He shook his head sadly.

“Why did it take you so long to return to England?” Stephen asked. “And, for that matter, Emily says you never once visited her or the children.”

Nigel rested his wrists upon his knees. “There has been unrest because of the Sikh war, I’m afraid. My own estates in India were threatened, and I’ve been preoccupied with them.” He brightened. “But now that everything has been put to rights, I can atone for my mistakes.

“I’ll confess,” he continued, “I have the selfish desire to spoil Daniel’s children, since my wife and I were never blessed with our own.”

Rising to his feet, he leaned heavily on the cane. “Come, now. I should like you to see their rooms. I fear, I went a bit mad with shopping. I couldn’t decide what toys they would like, so I bought them all.”

As he led Stephen upstairs, the man had to stop at the landing to catch his breath. His wrinkled face gave an apologetic smile. “Forgive me, Whitmore. The effects of being old, I’m afraid.” He leaned upon his cane and the banister, pausing a moment. His eyes glistened with intensity. “I’ll always regret that I couldn’t help my nephew Daniel. I blame myself for it.”

With a heavy sigh, he added, “But I look forward to seeing his children. And, as you can see, I have the funds to ensure their comforts.” He continued up the stairs, leading Stephen to a nursery that was brimming with toys and dolls of every kind. It contained everything a child could want.

And yet, Stephen hesitated about bringing them here. Perhaps it was because he’d grown to care about Royce and Victoria. He, too, was reluctant to see them go.

But he also knew they had to obey the law. There was no alternative.

“Will you bring Royce and Victoria here?” Nigel asked. “I fear traveling does not agree with me. And have Emily come along, as well. I should welcome the chance to see her again.”

“She has her doubts about you,” Stephen admitted. As did he, though he couldn’t see anything wrong with the older man.

“Then allow me to set her mind at ease. All of you may stay for as long as you wish.”

He supposed he would have to accept the invitation. And he had no doubt that if anything were wrong, Emily would discover it.

“I will let them know.”

Upon his return to Falkirk, Stephen decided to speak to Royce first. Of the two children, the boy would be the angriest at having to leave.

But before he could seek out the boy, Farnsworth awaited a chance to speak to him. Clearing his throat, the butler looked embarrassed.

“What is it?”

“Young Lord Hollingford gave us quite a bit of trouble while you were gone, my lord. Last night, he climbed a tree and refused to come down.”

“And what did Lady Whitmore do?”

“She left him there and gave orders that when he came down, he would not have supper. He is in his room now, but I did promise the boy I would inform you of his actions.”

He wondered whether the boy was playing or whether he had witnessed any strangers approaching the house. Royce struck him as a shrewd, intelligent child. “Were you planning to thrash the lad yourself, Farnsworth?”

Scarlet suffused the man’s cheeks. “I would not dare, my lord. But the lad could use more discipline.” His color deepened to purple. “It is not my place to offer opinions, however.”

“No, it is not.” Even if the man was right, Stephen disliked the butler’s implication that Emily did not know how to discipline the children. “I shall speak with the boy.”

“Thank you, my lord.” The butler bowed, keeping his gaze toward the floor as he left.

Stephen went upstairs to his bedchamber and retrieved the tin horse he’d brought back from Hollingford’s house, days ago. Then he knocked upon the door to Royce’s room. The imaginary sounds of battle and cannon explosions sounded from the boy’s mouth. He entered quietly, watching as Royce clashed two tin soldiers in a pretend skirmish.

“I understand you were climbing trees again,” he began.

Royce stopped the battle and grinned. “Farnsworth couldn’t reach me. He looked like a sausage, red and puffing while he called for me to come down.”

It wasn’t hard to envision the butler protesting and shouting, but Stephen knew he had to be firm. “You must respect your elders. If you had fallen, you could have broken a bone. Perhaps your neck.” He reached out and settled his palm on Royce’s nape.

The boy scowled. “I never fall.”

“Maybe not, but your aunt was very worried about you.” Stephen reached inside his waistcoat and pulled out the toy horse. “Does this belong to you?”

Royce’s eyes widened, and a broad smile spread across his face. “It’s Horse! I thought I’d lost him.”

Stephen held the toy out of reach. “You owe Farnsworth an apology for your actions. And today, you will follow him about his duties, helping him in whatever task he commands you to do. A good soldier must learn obedience.”

Though distaste lined the boy’s mouth, Royce did not argue. Impulsively, the boy wrapped his arms around Stephen’s waist and hugged him. “Thank you, Uncle Stephen!”

The affectionate gesture caught him unawares. He had tried to hug his own father once, after William had died. The marquess had boxed his ears, claiming that he wanted to be left alone.

It angered him that his father could not grant him a kind word or an embrace. Awkwardly, Stephen patted the boy’s shoulder.

“You’re a good lad,” he said softly. “And a brave one.” He hated having to impart the news that the boy would be leaving, even temporarily. A direct approach was the best way.

“Royce, have you ever met your Great-Uncle Nigel?”

Royce shook his head. “He lives in India.”

“He used to live in India but not anymore,” he corrected. “You’ll be going to visit him tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to.” Royce made a neighing sound and placed one of the tin soldiers atop the horse.

Stephen stopped himself from saying, You have no choice . Instead, he said, “I wonder what sorts of adventures Nigel has had. Living in India, he must have seen many exciting things. He might even have one of those curved swords I’ve heard of.”

“Do you think he’s ever slit a man’s belly, like Anant?”

Stephen held back a smile. “You could ask him and find out. It would only be a short visit. A few weeks, perhaps. Would that be all right?”

Royce pondered the idea. “I want to stay here with you and Aunt Emily.”

“All of us can go together,” Stephen suggested. “Victoria wishes to go and hear his stories. She’s told me how eager she is.”

At that Royce shot him a suspicious look. “Babies can’t talk.”

“Oh, but she can. You simply have to learn their language.”

Royce wrinkled his nose. “I don’t believe you.” Then he suddenly waved at the door. Stephen turned and saw Emily holding Victoria in her arms. “Look at what Uncle Stephen brought me!” he cried. “He found Horse!”

His wife’s face softened, but Stephen detected the air of uncertainty and worry. “I’m so glad.”

“And I might go and visit Great-Uncle Nigel. He’s been to India, you know.”

At Royce’s revelation, Emily’s posture stiffened. She sent Stephen a pained look before turning her back.

“I will see you at supper this evening,” he told Royce.

“Thank you for Horse, Uncle Stephen,” Royce said again. His boyish face revealed pure happiness, and Stephen was glad he’d thought to bring the toy.

“You are most welcome.”

But although Royce was considering the possibility of visiting Nigel, Stephen sensed that his wife would be much harder to convince.

Emily barely spoke to him the rest of the day or during supper. all through dinner and when they were in their bedchamber.

“We’ve been invited to bring the children to meet your uncle,” he said. “I called on him, and I think he would provide the children with a fine home and a good education.”

“You should have told me where you were going.” Emily struggled to remove her corset, fighting with the laces. “You were gone for days.”

Stephen came up behind her and loosened the stays. He did not touch her, suspecting that she would snap at him if he did. “I wanted to investigate your uncle myself,” he admitted.

“And what did you find?”

“Nothing. He has a large house and has purchased toys for the children. He seems eager to meet them.” Stephen stepped aside, trying not to get distracted while she removed the corset and pulled on a wrapper. The filmy fabric stretched across her breasts, making him want to take it off her again.

“I know my brother. Daniel wouldn’t have given the children to a stranger. Not after I married you.”

“Your brother made out his will before we married. And Nigel isn’t a stranger; he’s their great-uncle.” He came up behind her and laid his hands upon her shoulders. The silk was indeed as soft as it appeared.

“The will is legal, Emily. And if we wish to petition for guardianship, we must follow the proper protocol. Defying the law will not help our cause.”

“But Nigel has never even seen the children.” She crossed her arms about her waist, turning to face him. “He doesn’t know them the way I do. Royce lost his mother when Victoria was born. Now he’s lost his father, too. I’m all they have.”

“You are not all they have,” he said quietly. “They have me, as well. I promised you I’d protect them.”

Why couldn’t she see him as a part of their lives? It was as though she’d cut him off without a second thought. “I think we should go together when we take the children.” He slid his arms around her waist, drawing her closer. “If there is anything that bothers you, we’ll leave.”

“You’re not taking the children anywhere. They’re staying here, where they belong.”

While he understood her desire to protect them, he had to be careful about defying the law. “I won’t let anyone harm them.” He kissed her shoulder, trying to soothe her mood. “But I think you should come with me, Emily. Meet him for yourself and then decide.”

She stiffened and glared at him. “No. As I’ve said, the children will not leave Falkirk. And neither will I.” Her stubbornness was rooted in a desire to protect them, but he still wanted to know more about Nigel.

“Hasn’t it occurred to you that this may be a place where they will be safe? The last time I left for London, you were attacked. My enemies know where we are. It’s only a matter of time before they find us.”

“I don’t want to go,” she said quietly. “Nigel never did anything for us while we were struggling to keep the estate running. Why would he help us now?”

“He’s old, Emily. He admitted that he wanted to make up for what happened years ago.”

“I don’t like it. And I don’t want you taking the children, either.”

“The will states—”

“Hang the will. If you try to take them, I’ll find a way to stop you.”

“How? By sabotaging the carriage?” The flicker of interest in her eyes made him wish he hadn’t made the sardonic remark.

“I will do whatever it takes.” And with that, she left his bedchamber and stormed off to the adjoining room.

Emily couldn’t breathe with the suffocating fury infusing her. Sleeping was utterly impossible. If Stephen thought he was going to take the children from her, then he was sorely mistaken.

She paced the floors of her room, trying to think. What could she do? She dismissed the idea of tampering with the carriage, for that would only hurt the children.

In the looking glass, she caught a glimpse of herself. Her pale face appeared haunted and drawn. Blonde hair tumbled about her shoulders, looking desperately in need of attention. Raising her palms to her cheeks, she realized she would make any man run in horror. Simply dreadful.

After removing the pins, she began to brush her hair. She had to stop Stephen from leaving the house. Somehow, some way. If he couldn’t leave, then he couldn’t take the children.

Would seducing him change his mind? She knew a woman could control a man with her body. Emily glanced down at her own form, doubtful that she could do the same.

Yet, she didn’t rule out the possibility. Her skin prickled at the thought.

She pulled on her wrapper and padded downstairs to the kitchen. The scullery maids were sleeping in a corner of the room, and Emily tried not to awaken them while she made herself a cup of tea. The scent of burning coal mingled with the faint aromas from the evening meal. The large wooden table held knife scars where the servants had sliced vegetables.

As she rubbed her cold feet near the stove, an idea formed. There wasn’t much time. But it might work.

She opened a drawer and searched for the sharpest knife she could find. This wouldn’t be easy. But then again, nothing worth doing was easy. She lifted the knife and headed upstairs to Stephen’s bedchamber.

The next morning, Stephen did not wait for his valet to help him dress. He’d slept poorly that night, wishing he could have coaxed Emily to go with him to Nigel’s residence.

He pulled on a shirt and waistcoat, fumbling with the buttons in the darkness. When at last he was fully dressed, he reached for his riding boots and slid them on.

His foot went completely through the sole. The bottom of his boot hit the floor with a loud thunk. He cursed and forced his foot into the other boot. Like the first, the boot had no sole.

When he opened the wardrobe, he realized someone had butchered every pair of shoes he owned. And he knew just who that someone was.

He strode barefoot down the hallway to his wife’s room. With a loud crash, he threw her door open.

“Good morning,” she muttered sleepily, yawning.

“What did you do to my shoes?” he demanded. “And you’ve ruined my best pair of riding boots!”

“Yes, I did. Now you won’t be leaving the house.” She yawned and rolled over. “Close the door. I’m going back to sleep.”

He obeyed but only to keep the servants from hearing their argument. “If you think such a childish trick will prevent me from leaving, you are wrong. I’ll simply borrow shoes from Farnsworth.” He sat down on the bed and threw back the covers. He’d not allow her to sleep through this disagreement.

“You don’t wear the same size.”

“I’ll leave whenever I damn well please, boots or not.”

“Do you truly wish to leave?” she asked softly. He saw suddenly that her nightgown was of the sheerest silken fabric, completely revealing every curve. “Or would you rather do as you please?”

His words caught in his mouth. “You don’t control me, Emily.”

“No?” Her hands stripped away his waistcoat and shirt until he sat bare-chested beside her. He didn’t know what her intentions were, but so long as she was removing clothing, he did not particularly care.

“We’re not finished arguing,” he informed her.

In response, she lowered the bodice of her nightgown and pressed her breasts against his skin. “No. We’re not finished. I can see how angry you are.”

Anger was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. It took only moments to strip himself of the rest of his clothing. “I’m furious.”

He pushed her onto her back, pulling her hips against him. She wore nothing beneath the nightgown, and his body responded instantly.

Too fast. He needed to slow her down, to take control of the situation. He suspected she intended to seduce him. It was a blatant ploy to get her way. But he had more restraint than she knew.

He moved the tip of his manhood to hover at her slick entrance while his hand palmed her breast. She gasped, the nipple pebbling in his fingertips. Though she tried to bring him inside her, he kept her trapped in place. He moved his mouth against the soft curve above her ribs. Then with his thumb, he teased her womanhood.

She’d gone too far this time, destroying his best pair of boots. And for that, he had to retaliate. Most husbands would punish their wives, but he had a more pleasurable punishment in mind.

He slid a fraction of himself inside her.

“Stephen?” she whispered, her tone begging.

He withdrew, caressing her folds gently. Softly. Tormenting her in the darkest form of sexual pleasure. “Was there something you wanted?”

“You,” she breathed.

He exhaled upon her bare skin, watching her breasts tighten with excitement. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

Emily nodded, lifting her lips to his. Eager and urgent, she reached for him. He took possession of her mouth, and she pressed her body close to his.

His mouth vanquished her lips, and Emily moaned in surrender. If this was his idea of punishment, she intended to be disobedient every day for the rest of their marriage. She had missed this. Like a luscious slice of chocolate cake, he tempted her past all reason.

He ran his mouth over her neck, down to her collarbone and shoulders. His warm tongue tasted her sensitive skin, drawing close to her breasts but not granting her what she needed.

Her womanhood grew damp, and he startled her when he pushed her knees back to her chest. Spreading her apart, he moved on top of her and penetrated deeply. Shocked, she cried out at the wicked sensation.

He drew himself out, excruciatingly slow. Then he thrust within her once again. He pulled back, moving with such tormenting ecstasy that it bordered on pain.

She didn’t know when she had surrendered to him or when she’d allowed him to command her. Somehow, he had regained the upper hand. The new position gave him complete mastery of her body, letting him slide against every inch of her until she thought she would go mad.

She shattered in his arms, the pleasure intensifying with each stroke. He kept up the driving force until she broke apart again, spiraling pleasure fisting deep within. Waves of need burst forth until at last he took his own release.

He wrapped the sheets around her, holding her close. She wept silent tears, for this was what she’d wanted all along. Her husband, loving her again.

But she had tried to use sexual pleasure as a weapon, to keep him from sending the children away. Worse, he knew it.

Her body felt wearier than ever before. Safe in his arms, she closed her eyes. Only for a moment, she thought. She’d sleep for just a moment.

Later that morning, bright sunlight pierced through the bed curtains. Emily awoke, filled with dread at the empty sheets beside her. But when she went to find Stephen and the children, they had already gone.

“I am relying on you to remain with the children and alert me if there is anything suspicious about Mr. Nigel Barrow,” Stephen said to the nursemaid, while the coach continued the journey toward Nigel’s estate. Though nothing had struck him as unusual or wrong, he wanted to be certain that all was well. Servants were notorious for gossiping, and likely, if anything was amiss, Anna would hear about it.

He handed her a sovereign. “I will stay here until Lady Whitmore arrives. Send word to me if anything goes wrong.” Only then could he assess the true character of Emily’s uncle.

The nursemaid cradled the baby in her arms, her eyes wide. “Of course, my lord.”

“After that, I will be in London. I trust that you can get word to me if I am needed.”

She nodded but looked worried.

“I will see to it that you are rewarded for your service,” he reassured her. “An extra year’s wages will be added to your pay.”

Anna’s mouth opened in surprise. “I promise I will take good care of them, my lord. But—” she patted Victoria on the back, her worry deepening “—are you certain Lady Whitmore will come?”

“She will be arriving shortly,” he told the her. He had no doubt that Emily was already on her way to Nigel’s residence. And though she would hate him for this, he had to keep them safe. Nigel, if he was truly the man he seemed, could provide a haven.

The problem was convincing his wife to stay. Never had he met a woman like Emily, so determined and stubborn. He couldn’t drive her from his mind. The way she threatened him, and the way she welcomed him into her arms…Like a seductress, she captivated him. Leaving her soft warmth was harder than he’d thought it would be.

He glanced down at the pair of cracked leather shoes he’d borrowed from a footman. Such foolishness.

By the next afternoon, they arrived at Nigel Barrow’s estate. Robust and jolly, with a set of snowy whiskers, the man greeted them with enthusiasm.

“So glad you’ve come, Whitmore. And the children. Ah, you must be Royce.” Nigel bent down and smiled. “The new Baron Hollingford. You’re the image of your father, I must say.”

Royce drew back, but Stephen put his hand on the boy’s shoulder for reassurance. “It’s all right,” he said beneath his breath.

“I don’t believe you were really in India.” Royce kicked at the carpet, his face sullen.

“That I was, my boy. I even rode an elephant while I was there.”

Royce reached out for Stephen’s hand, not at all convinced.

Nigel sent Stephen a wink. “And this must be young Victoria. Why, you are a pretty little thing.”

Victoria buried her face in Stephen’s neck and wailed. Although Anna offered to take the baby, Stephen refused to hand her over just yet. He soothed the infant, rubbing her back.

Stephen accompanied the children to their rooms, hoping that Royce would brighten with all the toys. Instead, the boy clenched one of his toy soldiers. “I want you to stay,” he pleaded with Stephen.

“I shall. But as soon as your aunt arrives, I must return to London. It will only be for a short while.”

Victoria rubbed her eyes, whining to go to sleep, and Stephen exchanged glances with Anna. The nurse nodded in silent understanding.

The baby unleashed a furious howl when Stephen handed her over to Anna, crying out, “Da, da, da!” Though he was not her father, he’d wanted nothing more than to turn around and sweep the infant into his arms. Leaving her behind would be even more difficult than he’d thought.

But it was only temporary. As soon as he spoke with his solicitor, he would try to coax Nigel into giving back custody of the children. He leaned down and touched the boy’s shoulder. “It’s late, Royce. Best get to bed.”

The boy glowered at Nigel before he took Anna’s hand and let her take him into the bedroom.

“It will take time for them to know me,” Nigel said sadly. From the look of longing on his face, no doubt he’d been disappointed by the children’s reaction.

“Indeed.” As Stephen followed a servant to his own room, he tried to dismiss the uneasiness creeping over him. This was for the best, he knew. Though he’d have preferred to bring Emily and the children together, she’d made her feelings quite clear. Only in this manner could he ensure that she made the journey.

Stephen grimaced, wishing he’d thought to take the rest of his wardrobe with him. He didn’t like to imagine the state of his shirts at the moment, given what Emily had done to his boots.