The Widowed Countess (14 page)

Mr. Hammond had moved to the next page of the will, holding it up as he squinted at the words. “This next section has to do with the livestock now belonging to Daniel Fitzwilliam. It appears, my lord, that you are the owner of all the animals in the stable at three properties, except,” he said this last with a good deal of emphasis on the word ’except’, “There is a bay gelding used by the dowager countess that’s to become her property, but all costs of care will be borne by the Norwick earldom,” he said as he glanced in Dorothea’s direction, “And a black that is a particular favorite of the countess,” he paused and nodded to Clarinda,“That is to remain her property until its death. In both cases, replacement horses are to be provided upon request by the ladies.”

Dorothea leaned back in her chair and regarded Mr. Hammond through narrowed eyes. “Am I to believe, Mr. Hammond, that my late son actually had you write these instructions into his will?” she asked, somewhat incredulous. “I only just acquired my high stepper from Over the Hill Farms last month! I can hardly believe David knew anything about Mr. Popper Over the Hill.”

Clarinda and Daniel both turned in unison to regard the dowager countess, their mouths suddenly hanging open in a most unbecoming manner.

“Mr. Popper Over the Hill?” Daniel repeated, his eyebrow arching up nearly into his hairline.

Her shoulders suddenly pulled back, Dorothea turned her head to regard her son. “He was named based on his lineage, of course,” she stated quite firmly. “The sire was Mr. Peeper and the mare was Popover.” Clarinda found herself struggling to maintain an impassive expression, while Daniel’s eyebrows continued to attempt a merger with his hairline.

“A peeper and a popover gets a popper, then?” Daniel managed to get out with a perfectly straight face. Even after another couple of seconds, he showed no signs of being amused by his own deduction.

How does he do that?
Clarinda wondered in amazement. The man obviously had no sense of humor, no sense of the absurd. She was forced to use her hanky to cover her mouth, sure her amusement would make itself apparent at a rather awkward moment. At any moment, in fact.

“Of course. The more likely moniker was already taken by the colt born the year before,” Dorothea said defensively, one hand waving in the air.

Clarinda hoped Daniel wouldn’t take the bait. She was sure she would be reduced to giggles should he ask as to the older colt’s name. Tears had already pricked the edges of her eyes, ready to break forth with the least provocation.

Unfortunately, Daniel straightened in his chair and regarded his mother with a stern look. “And what, pray tell, is the yearling’s name?” he asked.

“Why, Mr. Peep Over the Hill, of course,” his mother responded, as if the name should have been apparent to her son.

No longer able to contain her giggles, Clarinda tried to make them sound as if she was sobbing. And, in a way, she was. Could a reading of a will be any more unusual than this one? She rather doubted it. When she pulled the hanky from her eyes, she found Daniel watching her, not with a look of sympathy, but with a gleam in his eye that suggested he knew perfectly well she found the proceedings absurd. “I apologize,” Clarinda said as she turned to regard her mother-in-law. “I don’t know what came over me,” she said lamely.

Dorothea rolled her eyes. “Just be glad the second foal was a colt,” she said with an arched eyebrow. Not giving Daniel the opportunity to ask after that horse’s possible moniker had it been a filly, Dorothea straightened. “Had it been a filly, I would be riding Miss Popper Over the Hill, which makes it sound as if she would be ready for a tumble at every opportunity,” she murmured, returning her attention to the rather startled solicitor. “Do continue, Mr. Hammond,” she encouraged as she waved her hand again.

The solicitor stared at her for a moment too long before he said, “As to your question about Lord Norwick knowing about your recent purchase of Mr. Popper Over the Hill – I can assure you he was quite aware of your acquisition of the horse since he paid for said horse the week prior to his meeting at our offices.”

Dorothea’s eyes widened. “Indeed? I’m surprised he would even notice the invoice,” she murmured, lifting one shoulder in a small shrug.

Mr. Hammond’s white eyebrows lifted quite a bit. “I believe his comment was ‘Mr. Popper Over the Hill had better not, or I shall pop him off to a glue factory’.”

Clarinda didn’t dare glance in her mother-in-law’s direction, knowing the woman would take umbrage at David’s comment. “Oh!” Dorothea gasped, one hand moving to cover the cleavage that showed above the neckline of her gown. “How dare he?” she uttered, clearly incensed that her son would threaten her new high-stepper in such a manner.

Suddenly nervous, Mr. Hammond returned his attention to the pages he held. He dared a glance at the other Lady Norwick, who was still wiping tears from the corners of her eyes while Mr. Fitzwilliam was doing a damned good job of keeping a straight face.
How does he do that?
he wondered as he moved to the next page of the will.
This has to be the most unusual reading of a will I’ve ever presided over
. He cleared his throat. “Moving on. The Earl of Norwick was in possession of several collections. First and foremost, of course, are the paintings.”

At Dorothea’s sudden gasp, Clarinda and Daniel turned to regard her while Mr. Hammond simply continued. “The paintings of the past earls and all the family portraits are to remain where they currently hang in this residence as well as in the portrait gallery at Norwick Park. The nudes are to be sold, if desired, by the next earl, and the proceeds donated to a worthy charity of his choice.”

Daniel’s eyebrow cocked.
If desired?
And what paintings of nudes could David have been referring to? “Excuse me,” he spoke, holding up a hand and looking to Clarinda. “My lady, are you aware of any nudes in this residence?” he asked, his brow furrowing as if he were truly befuddled.

Clarinda’s face took on a decidedly pinkish cast. She knew of several nudes hanging in her late husband’s library and here in the study. There was one hanging on the wall directly to their left! Hadn’t Daniel noticed? He had certainly been in both rooms since his arrival. Hadn’t he?

But it was the nude above the massive four poster and a partial nude above the long dresser – both in David’s bedchamber – that had her blushing profusely. She had posed for the French artiste Jean-Claude Lamorette for the paintings, her likeness and her unclothed body quite faithfully rendered for both works of art. Surely David did not intend to have Daniel sell those? She would be mortified! She would certainly be recognized if the buyer lived in London!
And, oh my, Daniel has no doubt seen those paintings
– he had been ensconced in David’s old bedchamber just last night!

Mr. Hammond suddenly straightened in the chair, a move that seemed almost impossible for a man with his protruding belly. “The exceptions to this are the two paintings that hang in the earl’s bedchamber. They are to remain
in situ
. Lord Norwick writes here that his brother should find those paintings pleasing to the eye, and if not, he will, and I quote,
Haunt the man until his dying day.
Unquote.” He looked up to regard Daniel, his gaze suggesting the younger brother had better find the paintings pleasing to the eye. And perhaps some other body parts, as well.

Daniel suddenly colored up, his attention suddenly no longer on Clarinda. “If there are such paintings in Lord Norwick’s bedchamber, I assure you, I have not noticed,” he stated emphatically, his face suddenly turning to stone.

Clarinda’s mortification eased a bit, only to be replaced by indignation.
He hadn’t noticed?
How could that be? The paintings were huge! Almost life-size! And quite well-lit during the day. She was about to call him out on the topic – she was rather well depicted in both paintings, her poses somewhat provocative but no more so than those shown in paintings done by the Masters!
How dare Daniel?
Why, the one over the bed showed her at her very best, one breast quite pert and one hip and a very long leg very much on display while she lounged in David’s bed with an artistically draped satin throw covering her nether regions. Her one arched eyebrow suggested ... well, it was the reason David claimed he made his way to her bedchamber so often after the painting was hung!

As for the one above the dresser, well, she’d been much younger then, and the large vase of strategically placed flowers and the silk drape barely covering her derriere made it more titillating than truly provocative.

“How could you not have noticed?” Clarinda demanded suddenly, the words out of her mouth before she realized she’d even said them. She was about to mention the paintings had been birthday presents for her husband when she realized both Dorothea and Daniel were both staring at her. She sat up straighter, her bosom thrusting out.
Damn the mourning clothes
, she thought as she realized the effect of her still pert bosom was lost on her audience when it was shrouded in black.

Daniel gave a quick glance toward the solicitor before turning his attention back to Clarinda. “I assure you, my lady, I have not seen said paintings since I have not frequented my brother’s bedchamber since my arrival at Norwick House,” he lied quite convincingly.

He, of course, knew
exactly
which paintings featured Clarinda as their subject; the sight of the arched eyebrow alone nearly had him visiting her bedchamber a few moments after he stood staring at the painting. And then he’d had trouble sleeping when his cock kept reminding him of what, nay,
who
lay in the adjoining bedchamber, presumedly with one pert breast and a rather long leg on display with a counterpane barely a covering the rest of Lady Norwick. Knowing how one of each of those body parts looked meant he could be fairly certain how the other one of each would look. The sight of the pair of each in his mind’s eye, along with the image of her long, naked back all the way from her shoulders to just above the satin drape featured in the other painting had him quite aroused that very morning as he stood in the middle of the bedchamber and attempted to pull his breeches over his manhood. The task proved next to impossible as there simply wasn’t room; he was forced to imagine Great Aunt Mildred’s face, and by extension, what her body looked like before his manhood lost its pertness.

Even now, as he thought of the provocative paintings, he was aware that his cock was aware, and he had to quickly imagine something entirely different. Such as Great Aunt Mildred’s face. His groan was nearly audible, but the dowager countess, bless her heart, was voicing her own complaint.

“And what of the nude at the house in Bognor?” she huffed, her arms crossing in indignation, their placement beneath her own still-pert breasts merely enhancing their pertness. “I have no intention of allowing
that
to be sold,” she announced, her dagger stare pointed directly at her son.

The solicitor removed his spectacles and gave Daniel his own pointed look, but Daniel had a vision of his mother in a pose much like Clarinda’s in his favorite above the bed, and he frowned. “Did Jean-Claude Lamorette paint one of you, too?” he asked, directing his gaze at his mother, just then realizing he’d said entirely too much by mentioning the artist by name.
Oh, horrors!

Dorothea Norwick glared at her son while Clarinda’s eyes widened in horror. “I paid Monsieur Beaulieau to paint that nude of Wally, and I’ll not allow it to be sold!” Dorothea announced with a fair bit of indignation.

“Wally?” Daniel repeated. He’d intended to tease his mother by wriggling his eyebrows, but he suddenly realized who Wally was. The thought of a painting of a nude Lord Wallingham didn’t exactly incite humor at that moment. He managed to avoid acknowledging Clarinda’s glare even though he was quite sure a volcano might be building behind those livid eyes.

Upon hearing her mother-in-law’s protest, Clarinda stilled herself, knowing right away that ‘Wally’ had to be Lord Wallingham. Had her mother-in-law really commissioned a French artist to paint her lover? And Lord Wallingham of all people?
Eww!

Dorothea thrust her own bosom out, her mourning clothes covering far less than Clarinda’s so that the effect was quite convincing. “I find it very ... soothing,” Dorothea countered, not about to tell her son just who Wally was. He could figure it out if he gave it one iota of thought, she realized. She huffed and turned her attention back to Mr. Hammond. “My nude is
not
for sale,” she stated quite firmly.

Clarinda was amazed that the older woman didn’t blush. At all.
How does she do that?
she wondered as she regarded Dorothea with new-found respect. But
soothing
?
Lord Wallingham?

Mr. Hammond was waving his hands in front of him, his expression looking quite pained just then. “Ladies and ... Mr. Fitzwilliam, a moment, please,” he begged as he lifted the papers once again. “Lord Norwick was referring specifically to the nude paintings he has collected in a vault in the cellar of Norwick House,” he clarified. He returned his spectacles to the end of his nose.

“Cellar?” Clarinda repeated, her voice barely audible.
Good grief, what has David been doing these past few years?
She would have to make a trip downstairs just as soon as Mr. Hammond took his leave. And she had a feeling she was going to have company. The mere thought of looking at paintings of nudes with Daniel at her side brought a spot of color back to her cheeks. Despite his assurances he hadn’t noticed the paintings that hung in David’s old bedchamber, Clarinda knew from his having mentioned the artist that he had, indeed, noticed the paintings. And noticed them enough that he would study the artist’s signature.
And probably all the other details, too.
Well, she had nothing to be ashamed of, she decided. Her husband had owned a brothel and a gaming hell. There were certain conditions he’d had to meet in order for her to agree to be his wife, such as selling said brothel and gaming hell, so the least she could do was provide him with a daily reminder of what he’d gained in the process.