Captain Durant's Countess

chapter 14


Reyn looked at his watch for the fourth time in ten minutes. He’d been at the little table in his sitting room for most of an hour, staring at the empty gold-rimmed dishes. Fancy dinnerware for his requested humble fare, but he wasn’t used to a heavy meal in the middle of the day, particularly after such a huge breakfast. At this rate, they’d have to roll him out of Kelby Hall. Poor old Phantom would buck him right off.

He wondered how the horse was faring in the stable block. Probably eating his head off, too. Everything was first-rate at Kelby Hall for humans and animals alike. Perhaps once he and the countess finished the day’s work, he’d give himself and his horse some exercise and ride out to explore the Surrey countryside. A few minutes of f*cking was not enough to quell the need his body had for release.

Reyn frowned. There had to be a better word for what was happening with Maris Kelby. Something not so crude. It had been anything but.

Would she want him to do it again this afternoon? Truly, he’d have no objection.

He sensed she was unused to such activity. He’d probably made her sore already. She was tall and well made, but there was a delicacy about her which made him feel protective. He wished he could have a frank conversation with her, but didn’t want to pry. He’d have to settle for what her body told him.

She came to orgasm easily, a rarity for a woman, as he knew from experience. He’d often had to labor much harder—labor that was entirely pleasant, naturally—to achieve such responsiveness.

Maris Kelby held nothing back when she was in his arms. It was out of them when she armored herself in a protective shell of hesitance and propriety.

That was probably for the best. In a month he would be gone, and she could go on with her privileged life. He pictured her lounging in her boudoir, long fingers busy with needle and thread, making neat stitches on a baby’s cap. Did countesses even sew?

She would be a careful mother, of that he was sure. Nothing like his own. Corinne Durant was too busy with cards and cotillions to pay much attention to her two children. When the debts rose and invitations stopped pouring in, his parents had slipped from one strata of society to the next below, until there was very little space between hell and their unpaid-for shoes.

Ah. That reminded him. He went to his dressing room, all traces of his earlier ablutions removed by efficient servants. His saddlebag hung on a hook on the papered wall and he reached inside. He needed to return Maris’s embroidered bedroom slippers. They were much more interesting than most of the objects he’d seen that morning, save for the emerald. A little worn, they were exquisitely sewn with tiny forget-me-nots and curly ribbon. Had Maris made them herself?

She had biggish feet—not that he’d ever say so—but he managed to fold the thin-soled slippers into his pocket. He would go upstairs even though it wasn’t time yet, for he was desperate for something to occupy him. He could move a few more boxes into the workroom.

There would be more waiting around in the attics, too, as Maris hunched over the table examining all the ugly objets d’art with her spectacles sliding down her nose. Reyn was not much good at waiting but he’d make the effort. For her.

What in hell was happening to him? It really wouldn’t be wise to fall in lust with the Countess of Kelby.

Reyn rang for his dishes to be removed. One of the Johns—not Aloysius—appeared almost instantly. Reyn waited until the hallway was empty, then went upstairs. He took off his jacket and cravat and rolled up his sleeves. He had a feeling Maris had not seen too many male forearms. Even the gardeners he’d seen earlier were covered in long-sleeved smocks against the cold. A gentleman did not remove his coat to work in front of a lady. Actually a gentleman did not, as a rule, do manual labor, unless he made an appearance at the haying to impress his tenants. Even Reyn’s own father had dirtied his hands on occasion when he had tenants to impress as he won—then lost—one ramshackle country property after the other.

He was thinking nonsense. Of course Maris had seen her husband at work. Presumably the Earl of Kelby had not worn evening clothes as he tramped the Tuscan hillsides with a spade. From what Reyn pieced together, in his prime, the man had been a force to be reckoned with.

Reyn felt a stab of jealousy, not for the man’s position and possessions, but for the loyalty of his countess . . . whom he vowed to leave alone this afternoon no matter how much he didn’t want to.

He trotted back and forth until he’d brought in almost everything that was light enough for him to handle. At the snail-like pace Maris was going, they would be at it for weeks. He picked up the ledger and marveled at her handwriting. He couldn’t read half of it but it was very pretty. She had drawn illustrations of some of the more decorative things in the margins too, and her artistic skill was impressive. The dents on a chalice, the scrollwork on a knife handle—all of it detailed and precise. Exacting. He looked at the tower of boxes and groaned inwardly.

There were perks to the job, however, perks that made up for the tedium. He brightened as he heard Maris’s tread on the steps at last. She was late according to his timepiece.

“I’ve been working like a slave,” he began, and then saw her white face. “What is it? Did something happen?” Was the old earl—

“D-David is here.”

She was clearly frightened, and he sought to soothe her. “You said he was apt to turn up. I’m surprised your husband allows it.”

“Henry doesn’t know he’s here yet. David knows better than to bother him. He’s come to see me. Someone told David you were at Kelby Hall. He must have a spy on the estate in his employ to carry gossip,” she said with bitterness.

“Hold on a minute. Is he banned from coming here?” Reyn would take the utmost pleasure in throwing the man out.

Maris shook her head. “He receives a quarterly allowance according to the terms of his father’s will. He used to come in person to collect it, and much more often, just to be a nuisance. Since Jane died, he’s been too smart to try to see Henry, but he’s written to him. The threats . . . ” Maris took a gulp of air. “I don’t want my husband disturbed by his visit. If he knew David was here, I can’t imagine what he’d do.”

Reyn supposed it was perfectly possible that in a house this size, one might have a houseguest for months without ever laying eyes on him. Nevertheless, it seemed odd that the earl wasn’t informed of his nephew’s presence. The old fellow would no doubt instruct a few of the Johns to throw him out on his arse.

“Did he come for his money?”

“I gave it to him last month.”

“Well, then. Send him on his way.”

“I-I can’t. He says he’s staying until he’s assured you won’t make off with any Kelby treasures.”

Reyn was dumbfounded. “Me? Run off with such rubbish? I should be offended he thinks I’m so stupid. And I thought he didn’t care about the Kelby Collection anyway.”

“He doesn’t really, but he doesn’t know what might be in the attics. No one does. May I remind you, there was the emerald.”

“Which I hope you are not going to turn over to him. What have you done with it?”

“It’s in the strongbox in my bedroom.”

“Good. Keep it there. I don’t mind meeting with the man, Maris. Let him snoop his fill and then go away.”

“You c-can’t call me Maris. David is very sharp. If he discovers you are not who you claim to be—” She shivered.

Reyn was across the floor in a second, and Maris was in his arms the next. “I will do nothing to arouse his suspicions. I’ll even wear the damned spectacles if you want me to.” They were jammed in his pocket just in case.

“Oh, Reyn! I thought we’d have more time to prepare for him. What if he asks you questions?”

“I’ve only been up here a day, haven’t I? It’s not like we’ve had time to find much. And so I’ll tell him.” He smelled roses and starch as he tucked her into the crook of his arm. “When do you want me to see him?”

“Right now, if you can. He’s waiting in my sitting room. David has reserved a bed in Kelby Village for the night, but maybe he’ll go away tomorrow if he’s satisfied.”

It irked Reyn that there was another man in Maris’s private space, but at least he’d get to see how she lived. It was unlikely he’d ever receive an invitation to enter her boudoir again.

Reyn dressed in haste, taking care to muss his hair and put the useless spectacles on his face before he followed Maris downstairs. He was going for the distracted scholar look. He’d seen plenty of masters so wrapped up in their studies they sometimes didn’t even notice the dark-haired boy in the back of the room sticking his tongue out at them and lobbing spitballs.

His hands were dirty, so he shoved them in his pocket along with Maris’s slippers, praying that David Kelby had never heard of Captain Reynold Durant, late of His Majesty’s Army. His best bet was to say as little as possible, which would be easy as he had no real knowledge of the junk upstairs.

The door to Maris’s suite was open. Her maid Betsy was standing rather nervously at the entrance as though she was preventing their unwanted guest from leaving.

“There you are, my lady. I told Mr. Kelby you’d be right down and there was no need to go upstairs.”

David Kelby did not look as if he meant to go anywhere anytime soon. He was sprawled out on a striped pink wing chair and took his own sweet time standing as the countess entered the room. “Aunt Maris, I had begun to despair of ever seeing your fair face again. Whatever took you so long?”

Reyn wished his clear lenses weren’t so smudged, though he could see Kelby well enough. The man bore an uncanny resemblance to his uncle, same angular build, dark eyes and hawkish nose. His hair was auburn rather than silver, though his temples were dusted with gray.

It was his voice that set Reyn’s teeth on edge. It was deceptively mellow, yet Reyn could hear the barb behind the words. In an instant, the bumbling professor disappeared and he straightened up. “I’m afraid I don’t have time to entertain your guests, Lady Kelby. I answer only to Lord Kelby. What do you want to speak to me about?”

Perhaps he’d overdone it. David Kelby’s face suffused with color. “Good Lord, Maris. The man is a rude savage. Where did Uncle Henry dig him up?”

“He has impeccable credentials. Captain Durant, may I present my husband’s nephew, David Kelby. As my husband’s heir, he believes he has a right to stick his nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

“Come now, Maris. You didn’t mind me sticking my . . . nose in before.”

Maris stiffened at Reyn’s side.

Holy hell. Reyn balled his fists, his mind racing at Kelby’s blatant implication. But as ordinary hired help, he was meant not to know anything about Lady Kelby. He’d be a fool to defend her honor.

When she might not have any.

No. Maris Kelby was not a loose woman. Reyn would swear to that on a stack of Bibles he couldn’t read.

What had transpired between them? Nothing good, he was sure. A few seconds in Kelby’s presence and Reyn yearned to knock the man down. The man was . . . oily, even if he was handsome. Reyn supposed some women might be persuaded by such charm, but he couldn’t imagine Maris falling for it.

“I’m very busy, Kelby. While your concern for your uncle is admirable, I assure you I’m not going to make off with the family silver. My interest is purely academic. When the inventory is complete, perhaps the countess will share it with you. If that’s all, my lady, I’ll go back upstairs while there is still enough light to do my work.”

“Not so fast, Durant. Captain, is it? How did you find time to study ancient history while you were in the army?”

“I was not born in boots. I went to school, of course.” Please don’t ask me how many.

“Cambridge or Oxford?”

“Neither.” Reyn made it sound like neither institution was worthy of him, not that either place would have enrolled him. “I was privately tutored.” His Majesty had provided him with a Grand Tour of some of the best sites in Europe.

“Do you share my uncle’s mania for Etruscan artifacts?”

“That is not my area of expertise.” Please don’t ask me what is.

“David,” Maris said impatiently, “Captain Durant came highly recommended. Henry is satisfied with his honesty and integrity. His employment is really none of your business.”

“My uncle is an old man, Maris. I won’t have him taken advantage of. Who knows what the man is really doing up there?”

“You don’t give a fig for Henry! If you did, you wouldn’t come to Kelby Hall.” Maris was about as indignant as she’d been when she’d found Reyn at the Reining Monarchs. Anger suited her, brought color to her cheeks and a flash to her eyes.

“You cannot keep blaming me for Jane. I never made her any promises. Not once.”

Reyn felt like he was an unwilling actor in a play. The conversation was far too personal and charged to be overheard by the stranger he was supposed to be. “If that is all, Lady Kelby. You two may discuss your family business in private.”

“There is no family business to discuss. I want you to leave now, David. You’ve seen what you’ve come to see.”

Kelby raked Reyn with a considering stare.

Reyn felt his hair lift on the back of his neck. The man was dangerous, to the countess especially.

“Yes, I believe I have. You’ve been warned, Durant. Maybe I should volunteer to assist you in your task to speed the process up and protect my interests.”

“No!” Maris cried.

“That won’t be necessary. The work is tedious, Kelby. I doubt a man like you would enjoy it.” Reyn certainly wasn’t, except for the time it afforded him with the countess.

“You’re probably right. I understand you’ve already got a willing worker anyway. My aunt is such a ferocious bluestocking, she must be in transports rummaging through the attic alone with you.”

Damn. Kelby made it sound like they were doing exactly what they were doing. Reyn pretended not to understand. “Lady Kelby has been an enormous help so far. For a mere woman, she is very knowledgeable.” Reyn prayed she wouldn’t elbow him in the gut.

“I’ll be back soon to check on your progress. Maris, a word.”

Reyn was dismissed. What he really wanted to do was drag Maris upstairs to get her out of Kelby’s clutches. However, she would have to fight this battle without him if they were to maintain their ruse.

But when she did come upstairs, he wanted a word with her, too.