Page 26 of A Stolen Heart

“I beg your pardon?” Alexandra said politely. Whatever was the matter with everyone? Obviously she must resemble someone, but why did the fact strike them all dumb?

“I’m sorry. You must forgive me. I’m so silly—I shouldn’t really be here. I mean, be the first to talk to you. That is the Countess’s place, of course. I am, well, I am only living here because the Countess is such a good, kind woman. Certainly I should not be taking her place in greeting you. You see, I remembered that I had dropped my yarn in here yesterday, and I thought I would simply slip in and retrieve it, but I hadn’t expected anyone to come in. I mean, I knew you were expected, but—”

“It’s perfectly all right, Miss Everhart,” Thorpe broke in, stopping the woman’s flow of words. “I am sure no one will think badly of you for fetching your yarn from the drawing room, least of all the Countess.”

“Oh, yes.” The woman beamed. “She’s such a dear, good woman.”

“Miss Everhart, allow me to introduce you to Alexandra Ward. Miss Ward, this is Willa Everhart, the Countess’s cousin.”

“Only second cousin,” Miss Everhart added, ever deprecatory. From her words and manner, Alexandra deduced that she must be a poor relation, living with the Countess on her charity and acting as a companion to her. Alexandra thought that the Countess must be charitable indeed. Ten minutes of this woman’s undiluted company would, she thought, drive her straight out of the room.

There was the sound of footsteps in the hallway, and an older woman’s voice saying, “Really, Ursula, I do not need to lean on your arm. For pity’s sake, I do not have one foot in the grave yet.”

“No, Mother, of course not. But you shouldn’t tax yourself so. After last night…”

The Countess came into the room. Slender and tall, with a regal carriage, she looked every inch a Countess—or even a Queen, Alexandra thought. Snow-white hair was coiled elegantly on her head. A strand of pearls glimmered at her throat, a lovely contrast to the tobacco-brown silk gown she wore. A huge diamond ring and a smaller ruby one winked on her fingers. Behind her came the squarely built Lady Ursula, accompanied by the plain girl who had been with them the night before. The plain girl, once again dressed in an unbecoming white gown, looked at Alexandra with interest from behind her spectacles. Lady Ursula frowned fiercely.

“Miss Ward. How kind of you to come.” The Countess went to Alexandra, her hand outstretched. Alexandra took her hand, and the Countess held it for a moment, looking into Alexandra’s face. The older woman’s expression was sad, almost longing, and Alexandra thought she saw a shimmer of tears in her eyes. The Countess managed a tremulous smile and let go of Alexandra’s hand with a squeeze.

“I am the Countess of Exmoor, Miss Ward.”

“Exmoor?” Wasn’t that the name of the man she had met last night, the one whom both Nicola and Thorpe disliked? “I’m sorry. I find these titles somewhat confusing. Are you related to the Earl of Exmoor?”

“He is a distant cousin,” the Countess said coolly. “He inherited the title from my late husband.”

“I see,” Alexandra replied, although she did not really understand—except that this woman seemed to dislike the Earl as much as everyone else did.

“I see you have met my cousin, Miss Everhart,” the Countess continued.

“Yes. She made me feel quite comfortable.” Alexandra smiled at the woman, as did the Countess.

Miss Everhart launched into an apologetic ramble, which Lady Ursula soon brutally cut off. “Oh, for mercy’s sake, Willa, do be quiet. No one begrudges you for being here, and you know it. Of course you’re interested in seeing Miss Ward. We all are.”

The Countess raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “My daughter, Lady Ursula,” she told Alexandra. She turned toward the plain girl, smiling, “And this is her daughter, Miss Penelope Castlereigh.”

Everyone made their polite hellos as they sat down. The butler brought in a tea tray, and some time was spent in the ritual of dispensing tea. The Countess, stirring her tea, smiled at Alexandra.

“Sebastian tells me you are visiting here from the United States, Miss Ward.”

“Yes, we’ve been here for two weeks now.”

“Ah, you are traveling with your family?”

“My mother and aunt.”

“I wish you had brought them with you,” the Countess said. “Sebastian, you should have told me. I would like to meet them.”

“My mother doesn’t get out much. She—England doesn’t seem to agree with her.”

“The damp, no doubt. Still, I should love to meet her. Perhaps some time when she is feeling well…”

“Of course,” Alexandra answered politely.

The Countess smiled. “I am sure you must be wondering why I asked you to call on me today. I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night.”

“There’s no need for apology,” Alexandra assured her quickly.

“You must have thought me very strange,” the Countess went on wryly. “No, don’t deny it. I would have thought my behavior very strange if I had witnessed it. I wanted to explain to you. And I—frankly I wanted to see you again. To make sure that my eyes had not deceived me.”