The Widowed Countess (19 page)

Daniel leaned forward again and captured her lips with his own, his tongue finding hers as he deepened the kiss. Sleep once again overpowering him, Daniel ended the kiss and then pulled Clarinda’s body closer, tucking her back against his chest and bending his legs so his knees were tucked behind hers. “Good night, my love,” he whispered. Even before sleep took him, he could tell she was asleep, her breathing deep and even. Yes, he decided, this was how he wanted to spend the rest of his life. He had to hope Clarinda felt the same way.

Chapter 19

A Send-off of Sorts

When Clarinda woke at nine o’clock, she rolled back and expected to collide with a large, male body. Instead, she landed on her back and discovered she was alone. The scents of sandalwood and musk permeated the pillows, though, and she inhaled deeply. When her eyes opened again, she found David hovering over her. She smiled.

“You are very beautiful,” he said as he cocked his head to one side. “Especially after you’ve been tumbled so thoroughly.” There was a good deal of humor in his comment, and his grin let her know she was being teased.

Color suffused her face as her smile widened. She’d had the most wonderful dream of being held and kissed, fondled and, yes, even tumbled. Her lips seemed swollen. The space between her thighs was moist. Her skin felt sensitive, especially her nipples, as if the silk of her night rail was almost abrading her them.

And then she realized she wasn’t
wearing
her night rail.

She glanced at where it lay on the edge of the bed, neatly flattened and spread out as if she’d never put it on the night before. “I cannot imagine not being able to make love for an entire year,” she whispered, wanting to be sure no one overheard her talking to what she decided had to be her husband’s ghost. He was so real, so solid, so ... David. And so clean shaven.
When had he shaved?

“Then you shan’t,” David replied with a shrug. At Clarinda’s arched eyebrow, he shrugged again. “I’ll see to it you are kept quite thoroughly satisfied until the day you give birth,” he said confidently.

Clarinda pushed herself up on her elbows. “I’ll be as big as a horse! How would we even ..?” She allowed her question to trail off as she considered how a woman who was almost nine months into breeding could possibly have sexual intercourse.

“When suitably challenged, we men can come up with a myriad of ways to pleasure our women, no matter what might be in the way,” he boasted happily, his hand patting her belly.

Clarinda considered the way she’d been pleasured just a few hours ago. “I have no doubt you could,” she agreed, wondering if he really would continue to visit her like this.

How long could a ghost haunt their loved ones? For some reason the question reminded her she was supposed to be miffed at him. “Why did you keep the paintings from the brothel?” she demanded, her good mood sobering a bit.

David cocked an eyebrow, his own good mood turning more serious. “Have you looked at them?” he asked, as if that was answer enough.

Clarinda let out a huff. “A few of them. Ann and Angelika,” she said in a manner suggesting she might have been a bit jealous of one or both of them. An idea struck her. “Did you store them in alphabetical order?” she wondered then, her mouth left open in surprise by her sudden deduction.

Shrugging one shoulder, David sat on the edge of the bed. “I tried. I thought if I ever had a query regarding one of the girls – someone wanting to buy their painting – I would have an easier time finding it,” he remarked casually as he leaned over and used one finger to lift her jaw up. When her mouth closed, he continued. “They were quite popular, those girls. Many are still in the business as mistresses.” This last was said with a hint of pride, as if he’d been the one responsible for their success.

Clarinda thought for a moment, her anger at him from the day before now just a feeling of disappointment – that he had somehow betrayed her by keeping something from his days of being a rake. “Do you ... do you look at them? Now and again?” she wondered, her lower lip quivering.

David regarded her for a long time, his attention suddenly on the night rail where it lay over the edge of the bed. “Actually, no,” he answered with a shake of his head. “I thought you had when you gave me that one of you that hangs above the bed, though. If I remember correctly, there’s a very similar one in that collection.”

Stifling a gasp, Clarinda sat up in the bed, the bed linens sliding down to reveal her bare breasts. She certainly hadn’t seen the paintings before, but David obviously remembered them well enough. “So, why did you keep them?”

Looking as if he was swallowing – hard – David directed his gaze at her bosom. “God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed.

Stunned at his comment, Clarinda pulled the bed linens up to cover herself. “Don’t change the subject!”

David sighed, his eyes rolling. “I forgot about them until I was at the solicitor’s office last week. Old Hammond reminded me to list any art I thought might be worth something,” he explained, another sigh escaping. “And I remembered thinking the painter who did those portraits might one day be famous,” not adding that he also thought some of the Elegant Courtesans featured in the paintings might also someday be famous. He shrugged again. “I’m sorry if you were offended. I didn’t intend for you to see them. I just figured Daniel would see to their sale and enrich the earldom a bit more. He’s going to need some blunt for the dowries for those girls you’re carrying.”

“That’s it?” Clarinda asked in disbelief, ignoring the comment about the dowries.

Looking rather melancholy, David nodded. “That’s it,” he answered.

Clarinda regarded him for a moment, her head cocked to one side. “Do you ... did you ... miss your life as a rake?” she wondered suddenly. “Miss being able to bed any woman you wanted after you married me?”

Shaking his head from side to side, David leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “God, no,” he replied simply. At Clarinda’s wide-eyed expression, he shrugged. “My life as a rakehell was almost over when I first laid eyes on you,” he explained, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Liar,” Clarinda countered, her arms crossing over her barely covered breasts. “I saw how you behaved with women at balls. You were shameless!”

David allowed a grin. “I said, ‘almost over’,” he countered. “Truth was, I was growing tired of the life. I was bored with the women ...”

“Liar.”

“...  Bored with the gambling ...”

“Liar.”

“... Bored with the late nights and the dreadful balls and the insufferable soirées.” David waited for Clarinda to interrupt him, and when she did not, he cocked his head to match hers. “You were a Godsend,” he said quietly.

He heard Clarinda’s slight inhalation of breath. “I love that sound,” he whispered.

“What sound?” she wondered, unaware she had made any sound and quite sure the room was quiet.

“The sound you make when you have a catch in your breath,” he explained, leaning over so his lips nearly touched her face. His tongue reached out and barely touched her ear, the sensation causing Clarinda to react with a small gasp. “There. That sound,” he whispered. “Ever since the first time I heard you make that sound, I have lived every day just to hear it,” he claimed quietly.

She made the sound again, staring at him in wonderment. “Every day?” she squeaked, stunned at his claims.

David nodded. “It’s your sound of wonder and awe. The sound you make when I’ve just done something to pleasure you. The sound you make to let me know I’m welcome in your bed and in your body.” He moved his head to one side, his lips nearly touching hers. “And the sound that lets me know you’re about to drown in waves of pleasure so I can allow my own release.” He kissed her then, his lips finally pulling away but still held close as he added, “The sound you make when I leave your body.”

Clarinda’s breath caught again at the simple statement. David smiled then and rested his forehead against hers. “That little sound makes me want to pull you against me and keep you close always. And,” he added with a sigh, “It’s why I had no desire to continue my rakehell life after I married you.

“I stayed true to you,” he added then, the claim spoken with a fervency that surprised Clarinda.

“I know,” she replied, her head nodding against his. When her nodding stopped, she pulled away to regard him. “So, why did you keep the paintings?”

David suppressed the urge to laugh out loud. “I don’t know,” he responded with a shrug. “I certainly didn’t give them any mind after their placement in the cellar. Until Hammond mentioned the need to include any unentailed artwork in the will, I had quite forgotten about them.”

Clarinda took a deep breath, a sense of profound relief settling over her. Perhaps she had overreacted to the paintings. Daniel would see to their sale, and they would be out of the cellar and out of the house.

But not before she had a chance to look at every last one of them.

Clarinda thought of what lay ahead. “Are you ready for the trip today?” she wondered, suddenly wishing she could spend the entire day in bed. Instead, she would be in the coach with Daniel and his mother for the trip to Sussex and David’s burial in the Norwick Park’s small cemetery. Despite Adele Torrington’s recommendation that she simply spend the trip asleep, she still dreaded the ride in the coach.

“You do not have to go, Clare,” David said with a shake of his head. “I do not want to think of you being jostled about for six or seven hours in your delicate condition.”

Clare waved a hand through the air, dismissing his concern. She was suddenly wondering again how he would know how to pleasure a very pregnant woman. “I’ll be quite fine. We’re taking the good coach – the one with the deep squabs.” She resisted saying, “Instead of the one that’s a piece of ...” and instead said, “Your mother will keep us entertained with stories of her last house party, and we’ll make her tell us all about Lord Wallingham,” she claimed, her eyebrows wiggling in delight. “Wally.”

There was a knock at the door.

When Clare turned to bid David farewell, she found he was already gone. “Come!” she called out, sure it was Missy come to dress her for the day. But when the door opened, she was instead surprised to find Lady Torrington peeking around the door frame.

“Good morning, Clare,” the countess offered, immediately noticing Clare’s night rail neatly draped on the edge of the bed. She glanced about the room, half expecting to find someone else in the room. She was sure she’d heard Clarinda’s speaking aloud.

Clarinda sat up, remembering to clutch the bed covers to her neck as she did so. “Adele! Is something wrong?” she asked, her happy response suddenly turning wary, for why else would Adele Grandby find it necessary to pay her a call this early in the morning? Especially when they’d said their ‘good-byes’ only the night before?

“Nothing, except that you’ll be leaving for Sussex, and I won’t see you for at least a few days or five or ten,” she countered with a wry smile. “I wanted to wish you well and beg of you to pay me a call when you return,” she said, her gaze still darting about the room. The drapes weren’t moving, and she didn’t hear anyone else breathing, but she was sure Clarinda had been talking to
someone
.

“I doubt we’ll be gone that long,” Clarinda countered with a shake of her head. “Daniel has to wrap up a few things at Norwick Park, but he thought it would only take a few days. I’ll send word when I return, of course,” she assured the older woman. “And pay a call, of course.”

Adele angled her head. “I do believe we’ll have news concerning Lord Sommers any day now,” she spoke in quiet tones. “When Milton returned from White’s last night, he told me he has decided to speak with Lord Sommers about Lady Evangeline. It turns out, Lord Everly had already requested to speak with Lord Sommers on the matter, but the two haven’t yet had the necessary conversation.”

Clarinda grinned. “It won’t be long before Lady Evangeline is settled, then,” she murmured. She wondered if it would be acceptable for a widow to attend a wedding should the two decide to marry in London.

Nodding, Adele bit her lip. “I wanted to let you know that I’ve decided I will have two ... or even three babies should Milton want more than this first one,” she whispered. “I figure if Lady Seward could have children well into her forties ...”

“I heard she was five-and-fifty when she had her last,” Clarinda interrupted.

Her eyes widening, Adele’s hand went to her belly. “I think early forties is quite late enough for breeding,” she replied with a firm nod. “Anyway,” she glanced about again, but when she saw that the connecting door to the earl’s suite was closed, she shrugged. “I will miss you. Stay well.”

“Adele,” Clarinda spoke, a bit of hesitancy in her voice. Lady Torrington paused in her retreat from the room, glancing at Clarinda with a raised eyebrow.

“What is it, Clare?” the countess wondered.

Clarinda regarded her visitor for a moment. “When Worthington died, did you ... did you
miss
him?” she asked carefully, feeling a flush of embarrassment suffuse her face.

Adele arched her eyebrow farther up and moved back into the room, closing the door firmly. “That depends on how you mean,” she answered, her lips curling at the edges. She moved to the bed and sat on the edge of it, making sure not to sit on the night rail that still lay spread out over the edge.

“At night,” Clarinda responded, her face blushing even more.

Adele’s gaze softened. “I did. For a time,” she admitted. She lay her reticule on the bed and reached over to take one of Clarinda’s hands in hers. “I found the nights too lonely to mourn as I should have, though,” she whispered hoarsely. Her eyes brightened, as if she was about to cry.

Clarinda’s own eyes widened. “Did you take a lover?” she wondered, straightening from the pillows.

Adele shrugged and gave a quick glance toward the window. “Worthington’s brother,” she replied finally. “I discovered very quickly that Samuel’s younger brother was more skilled in bed, but then, rakes usually are,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I was so flattered – Stephen is at least five years younger than I am – so I was under the impression he was taken with me. That is, until he admitted he’d promised Samuel he would look after me if something should happen.” The light that had come to her face faded a bit, and her eyes were downcast. “Then I was never sure if he bedded me because of his promise to Samuel or because he truly found me desirable.”

Clarinda gave a small gasp. “Of course, he found you desirable! And he must have been extremely discrete – I never heard a bit of gossip about you!” she insisted, awestruck at the idea that her friend had been carrying on with her younger brother-in-law when she was in mourning.

“It would have been as much an embarrassment for him as for me,” Adele commented lightly. “I was essentially his mistress for those seven or eight months.” Her eyes lifted to Clarinda’s. “I was so relieved to hear Weston wanted to court me, and I was so certain I wanted to marry again, I accepted his offer without even knowing enough about him,” she went on, her eyes clearing. “And then Lady Ellsworth informed me she’d overheard her husband say something about Weston’s gambling debts – I was so stunned, Clare, I thought I would die of embarrassment. I ended the engagement that very night. Gave back the ring Weston had given me. It was probably paste,” she hissed in disgust. “Madame Suzanne had already made my wedding gown. Thank goodness it suited Cunningham’s wife. She wore it to the Harvey ball. It was at that ball when Grandby told Cunningham he was looking for a widow for the season. Olivia Cunningham informed him I was available, bless her heart. She knew it, of course, because she was wearing my gown.”

Clarinda gasped again. “That’s how you came to be with
Grandby
?” she asked in surprise. She gave a gasp again. “I had no idea!”

“I haven’t exactly told many people,” Adele countered. “It’s not as if I wanted everyone to know I was Grandby’s rich widow for the Season,” she said with a shake of her head. “But I could not have asked for a better husband. He has been everything a woman could want in a man. I love him dearly. And I tell him so every day.”

Clarinda brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “So, you’re telling me I could take a lover if I am extremely discrete,” she said with a cocked eyebrow. She sighed and shook her head. “I do not know where I could find such a man,” she whispered. “Last night ...” She allowed her voice to trail off before shaking her head.

At Adele’s arched eyebrow and gentle, “Go on,” Clarinda bobbed her head from side to side.

“I had the most ... erotic dream. David came to me in the middle of the night and made love to me. And not like he usually did. This David was ... more passionate and slow and tender and ...” She shook her head, trying to ignore how her body remembered when it sent a shiver of pleasure coursing through her.