Chev nodded. What had been lost between them slipped back into place—a brotherly bond sealed.
Chapter Fifteen
Alicia awaited the countess in Astonbury’s morning room.
The room had been dull, if she properly recalled. Since then, it had become into alignment with its name. Admittedly, the countess had fine taste. The walls were a deep, cheerful yellow, and coordinating striped satin covered stuffed chairs. The countess was one of the most oft-painted women, yet the tables and walls were adorned with images not of her, but of Octavius.
All except one.
Alicia set down the bundle of letters and approached a painting—the same one she’d seen the day of the funeral. A rueful smile touched her lips. She wasn’t surprised the countess commissioned the original. The countess had carefully cultivated Octavius’s fame from the time the two had met. She’d also made dreary Astonbury both a home for Octavius while he lived, and now a shrine.
The countess had, in fact, made Octavius a much better wife.
Where Alicia had seen a selfish, sullen man, the countess had seen only a hero.
Oh, the countess and Octavius had rows. From the accusations and apologies that appeared in the letters, far more rows than she and Octavius had ever had. But, in her heart, the countess had believed Octavius was the most interesting, powerful, loving man she’d ever known. And, Octavius had clearly felt the same of the countess.
Octavius had never looked at her the way he looked at the countess. Not even when he’d been ardent and romantic and wooing with charm.
But the duke had looked at her that way. The duke had gazed at her with awe, as if she were a woman of infinite worth. Such a look seduced. Such a look branded.
...you made a broken man feel whole.
An aching sense of loss rattled, like wind through dried leaves. She missed the duke. They’d only spent three nights together, and yet she missed him more every day.
If things hadn’t gone wrong, if, instead of letting her go, he’d asked her to stay, would she be able to make a home for them both as the countess had made a home for Octavius?
Of course.
Although with fewer portraits. And less yellow.
She turned as the countess rushed into the room, everything about her a flutter. She was always a little breathtaking, the countess. Even now, though years and grief had taken their toll, the portrait-come-to-life effect left Alicia speechless.
The countess saw Alicia and froze, suspending them both in a hazy uncertainty that could have ended with consolation or bitter recrimination. Then, the countess curtseyed, with her head bowed. The countess, who clearly out-ranked Alicia.
She approached Alicia with her arms outstretched. Truly, she was impossible to dislike.
“I amsohonored by your presence,” the countess gushed.
Alicia believed her sincere. “Thank you for seeing me.”
She held Alicia’s hands. Her touch was warm, her famed eyes, full of concern. “How awful this has been. Have you been sleeping? I haven’t. Not a wink.” Her gaze drifted to the largest of the paintings. “I miss him so.” She broke into a sob. A rush of tears followed. Then, they were gone as quickly as they’d come. “Oh dear, Iamsorry. How selfish of me. You, of course, miss him, too.”
Painfully, not. She had grieved long before he died. But she would never have wished him death. “I am sorry for the Nation’s loss.” Oddly enough, she was sorry for the countess’s loss, too.
The countess’s tears renewed. “So tragic.Sounfair.” Her eyes widened. “Unfair to us both, of course.”
“Yes.” On those points, Alicia could agree.
The countess inhaled, dropped one of Alicia’s hands, and led her to the couch. “The Admiralty has been wretched to me, as I am certain they have been to you. All but for that one, nice man.”
“Captain Smith?” Alicia ventured, smoothing her skirts to sit.
“Oh yes! But of course, you know him, too. He’s to come today.” The countess clapped. “Oh!Oh!I’ve had a marvelous idea. You should stay, and we will see him together.”
Wouldn’t Cheverley be surprised? “Thank you, but no. I cannot stay. There is a coach that returns to the city in a little more than an hour.”
The countess looked horrified. “You mustn’t leave so soon! And not when we have so much to celebrate. I was wretched. Just wretched. I didn’t know what to do. And now, everything is going to be beautifully settled.”
