The Countess Page 0,35

was sure he would arrive to find her beating Daniel viciously about the head with her candlestick and shrieking "intruder."

Instead, he arrived at her closed door, thrust it open and stopped dead. It seemed he needn't have worried about his friend, or the virago that was Suzette.

The two were wrapped up in a most passionate embrace, so passionate in fact that neither appeared to have heard his arrival. At least she hadn't. Richard was just wondering what he should do when Daniel removed one hand from Suzette's back to wave him away. He hesitated one moment, but then decided to obey the gesture. Daniel was an honorable man and wouldn't do anything to harm Suzette or her reputation. Besides, now that the panic had cleared, he suddenly recal ed George's body lying out on the lawn.

Richard pul ed the door gently closed and knew he'd made the right decision when he heard Daniel's voice muffled through the door, saying, "Suzette, we have to stop now. I should go. It's not proper for me to be in your room like this."

"Oh, but we have to discuss . . ."

Richard didn't hear the rest of Suzette's words, he'd started away from the door the moment Daniel spoke, secure in the knowledge that he would soon join him to take care of George's body.

Haversham was nowhere to be seen when Richard got back downstairs, but then he shouldn't have been the first time. The man had been with the family for forty years now, wel before Richard and George had even been born. He was a mostly silent servant who went about his duties with the dignified reserve that al good butlers possessed, but, God in heaven, he was old. He should have been sleeping, not hanging about waiting for the house to go to their beds before he did. However, Richard knew that George wouldn't have cared about his age or frailty. His twin had probably ordered the poor old bastard to man his station until everyone else was abed, and to be up to see to them before he and Christiana arose. Shaking his head at what else his brother might have done while he was gone, Richard hurried through the office and back onto the lawn. George was right where he'd left him, his head poking out one end of the unraveled blanket and the lower half of his legs hanging out the other. Richard took the time to rol him back up in the blanket, hefted him up into his arms with some difficulty and then paused. Suzette's window looked out over the backyard and so that was where the body had landed. Richard would have preferred going around the house to Daniel's carriage with his burden, but that would mean traipsing through the stables, which would set the horses nickering and no doubt bring the stable master out of his room to see what was about. He would have to risk a quickstep through the house and out the front door, he decided with a grimace. Richard stepped back into the office, pul ing the French doors closed as he went and then halted as a knock sounded at the hal door. He stared at it blankly, glanced back to the French doors, and then simply dumped his bundle on the floor between himself and the desk. He spared a quick glance to be sure nothing stuck out on either side of the desk and then cal ed out, "Yes?"

The door opened and Haversham peered in with an expression that suggested he hadn't been sure what he'd find. It made Richard wonder what the hel the butler had caught his brother doing in here the last year. Surely George hadn't been crass enough to bring women into the same home where his wife slept?

"What is it, Haversham?" he asked quietly.

The man cleared his throat and straightened in the doorway. "I wondered if you would be wanting anything before you retire?"

"No. Thank you. You may seek out your bed," Richard said quietly, and then as the man began to back out of the door, he asked, "Are there any other servants stil awake?"

Haversham paused and considered briefly, before saying, "Not that I know of, my lord . . . except perhaps for Lady Christiana's maid, Grace. She is probably stil about."

"Right," Richard muttered, and then waved him on. "Go ahead and go to bed.

And in the future, Haversham, there's no need for you to stay up so late, but