The Countess's Mistress (Pirates of Flaundia #3)

  The Countess’s Mistress

  (Pirates of Flaundia #3)

  By

  KT Grant

  “Forgiveness, reader, is, I think, something very much like hope and love - a powerful, wonderful thing. And a ridiculous thing, too.”

  Kate DiCamillo, The Tale of Despereaux

  The Countess’s Mistress Copyright 2019 by KT Grant

  Cover art Copyright 2019 by Insatiable Fantasy Designs

  Smashwords Edition

  The reproduction or utilization of this book in any form by mechanical or other means is forbidden by law. Copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and may result in fines of up to $250,000 or imprisonment.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Blurb

  Mrs. Julia Whitney, a widow of two years, blames herself for her husband’s suicide. She hides a dark secret that could ruin her good family’s name, which has become the target of cruel gossip because her sister has been locked away in an asylum for the criminally insane. She has no one to turn to for comfort, even though Isaiah, her former childhood friend, and father’s protégé wants to marry her.

  Things become complicated when she makes the acquaintance of Katherine, the Countess Guetall, who happens to be the cousin of the man Julia’s sister attacked and kidnapped. Kat holds no ill will, and extends an olive branch in the hopes she and the timid widow can become friends.

  Kat’s affection heals Julia’s broken heart, and soon they embark on a secret love affair. When Isaiah learns of the affair, he resorts to blackmail and threats to claim Julia as his own. Julia may have no other choice but to comply with Isaiah’s wicked plan even if it means sacrificing herself in order to protect those she loves.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Kiss! Kiss!”

  The newly married couple kissed at the urging of their guests. The groom tugged his bride, whom he had promised to cherish and obey the remaining days of his life less than two hours ago, into his arms.

  If Mrs. Julia Whitney had been a romantic, she would have sighed like the rest of the women in the room, including her mother, the Viscountess Veiga, and her grandmother, Lady Ransome. But she was skeptical the bride and groom were a love match. Maria Southey, now Mrs. Lang, had once been a close friend to Julia, so much so she had once known Maria’s innermost secrets and dreams. But that had been years ago, before she married. Maria had waited much longer, and finally embraced the bonds of holy matrimony at the age of thirty. Her days of spinsterhood were now over, whereas Julia still came to terms with her status as a widow of two years.

  She glanced away from the happy couple and stared at her punch. Maria appeared blissful and glowing, as everyone expected from most brides on their wedding day. Perhaps she did love her husband, Luis, owner of the biggest logging company in the county. Perhaps Maria had decided marriage to a well-respected and handsome man with a fortune was better than remaining a spinster reflecting on those unattainable dreams, such as having Julia live with her as her companion. But Maria hadn’t requested a private meeting since returning to Deerhirst to visit. Soon, she and Mother would return home to Father for the Christmas holiday, and she had yet to speak to Maria alone. Her once close confidante no longer had any use for her.

  She sighed, disheartened by her friend’s rejection. She finished her punch and searched for a server carrying a tray of champagne. She had never been inebriated before. No one would frown upon her if she imbibed. The majority of the wedding guests had already drunk their fill, anyway, based on their loud laughter and enthusiastic dancing.

  Her mother, Cornelia, sipped from her fourth glass of champagne and swayed to and fro as the musicians struck up a lively tune. It had been some time since she’d seen Mother in high spirits—understandable, considering her younger daughter, Ramona, had been admitted to an asylum for the insane six months ago.

  “Julia, if you continue to pout like you’ve been doing for the past hour, you’ll end up with permanent wrinkles around your mouth.” Grandmother Isa tapped Julia’s arm with her fan.

  “Smiling can cause wrinkles also, Grandmother.” She relaxed her mouth into a straight line to appease the older woman, though. She had come to expect her grandmother’s criticisms, much like those of her mother, who rarely had a compliment for her eldest daughter.

  Grandmother Isa laughed and squeezed Julia’s gloved hand. She rarely attended a ball or any type of celebration elegant enough for wearing gloves. Nor did she have an appropriate gown for the occasion, so she chose to wear her most suitable and elegant attire—an Oxford-blue bombazine dress. Most of her gowns were in somber shades to denote her mourning period for her deceased husband. David had always liked her in darker colors anyway. He said it brought out her amber eyes and milky-white skin tone.

  “Now, that’s what I want to see.” Grandmother Isa rapped her fan once again on Julia’s arm. “Light in your eyes and some color to your cheeks. What crossed your mind just now?”

  “Mama, your eyes must be playing tricks on you. Julia looks exactly the same as she did moments ago.” Mother frowned. “For once, can you act like you’re enjoying yourself?”

  If Mother knew the real reason she didn’t want to be here—that she had feelings for Maria—she would end up with Ramona in the asylum. But it was inconsequential to act on them again. A future with Maria was impossible.

  She stopped any further complaints from her mother and smiled, showing teeth. “Grandmother is correct. I’m thinking of my wedding to David.” It had been a wretched day of sleet and snow six years ago. David had sneezed through the entire ceremony. She had been riddled with nerves and nausea. They had retired to their bridal suite early and didn’t consummate their marriage until days later. But it had been nice to fall asleep in his arms. He had been such a gentle and loving soul.

  Sympathy crossed her grandmother’s face. “David may be gone, but he’ll always have a place in your heart.”

  “I know.” She nodded, keeping her smile intact. “He was my best friend.”

  “And now your other friend is married to the love of her life.” Mother set her palm on her chest, covering her pearl necklace, a gift from her husband. Her diamond wedding ring sparkled.

  Julia peered at her bare hand. Her wedding band lay hidden in her jewelry box. She had put it in there after David’s funeral, ashamed to wear it. Most people assumed her unmarried, unless she corrected them. She responded more so to her maiden name than Mrs. Whitney. After David died, she hadn’t felt right keeping his name. Unbeknownst to all, she had been somewhat responsible for his suicide.

  The music changed to a jauntier tune, and Maria and Luis walked out on the dance floor. Other couples joined them, clapping. Mother hummed, and Grandmother tapped her foot. Julia lifted her hair off the back of her neck. The room had warmed considerably, and she longed to go to the small cemetery to visit David’s grave. Even at the end of November, the weather had stayed comfortable and hadn’t grown too chilly yet. It would no longer be the case come December when the first frost arrived.

  A gentleman with mutton chops and a big bushy beard approached them. Her mother smiled in greeting.

  “I would love to dance, Percival. Thank you for asking.” Mother blushed. She thrust her half-empty glass of champagne at Julia and allowed the man to escort her onto the dance floor.

  “Mother!” She gasped in shock at her mother who danced with a man not her husband, even though the other man had been married for forty years with eight children and fifteen grandchildren.

  Grandmother Isa chuckled at her granddaughter’s disg
usted expression. “Child, Cornelia and Percival have known each other for years. He’s a great friend to your father. There’s nothing to be miffed about.”

  Her mother and her dancing partner swung around the room with great delight. She then spotted Maria in the arms of her husband. Maria locked eyes with her. Julia turned away and faced her grandmother. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by Mother’s antics. She loves attention and enjoys embarrassing Father. He must have been thrilled to have been left alone while we were on our holiday,” she commented and drank the rest of her mother’s champagne.

  Grandmother Isa’s face darkened, and her jovial mood vanished. She seized Julia by the wrist and tugged her to a window.

  “Your mother can be a handful, but she’s well aware of her surroundings. She would never intentionally hurt or humiliate your father. Alastair loves your mother, as she does him. Those two have been through thick and thin. From the moment your father asked your mother to dance with him at her coming-out ball, I knew they would marry.” She wagged her finger in front of Julia’s face. “Not many married couples experience true love like your parents. You may not be aware, but your father has written your mother every week since you’ve been away. He misses her desperately and wants you both to come home.”

  She stared out the window, blinded by the setting sun. Purple spots floated in front of her eyes, but she blinked them away, truly ashamed for her cruel opinion about her parents’ marriage. She had never experienced an all-consuming love, not with David or even with Maria. “I apologize for my recent behavior. It’s.…” She swallowed. “I’m not ready to return to Flaundia. The gossip about Ramona will be cruel, and most of our neighbors will cut us off. I’m afraid Mother won’t be able to handle the rejection. Father must be under a great deal of stress—”

  “It will all turn out for the best.” Grandmother lifted a finger in the air. “People do love a good scandal, but some other distraction will come along your neighbors will concentrate on. Based on your father’s letters, it looks like things have settled down, and you and your mother won’t be ridiculed or given the cut direct at social gatherings.”

  She wanted to believe her grandmother, but she knew all too well how people reacted to something shocking, such as David’s suicide. Returning to the scene of the crime after a year still hadn’t diminished the stares and whispers. During the past three months, while she and Mother had stayed with her grandparents, she had grown paranoid their neighbors continued to gossip about her.

  “I guess we’ll have to wait and see,” she said, resigned to the fact she may be treated as a leper upon returning to Flaundia.

  “You have survived one misfortune, and you’ll survive this recent one with your younger sister.” Grandmother Isa shook her head. “Time heals all wounds.” Something caught her eye, and she nodded. “Your grandfather is waving me over. He’ll want to dance the quadrille soon. I guess I should do what the old buzzard wants.”

  She covered her mouth and snickered then snuck a peek at her grandfather, who winked at her.

  “Would you like to come with me? The unattached gentlemen near your grandfather would be more than honored to dance with you.” Grandmother Isa elbowed Julia’s side.

  Other than David and his male cousins she had once associated with while growing up, no man had ever asked her to dance. Most of the men here sought women who were pleasant to look at and who could carry on a conversation, unlike her, with such an unassuming and quiet nature.

  “I’m not in the mood to dance. I think I’ll visit David’s grave.” She peered out the window at the cemetery next to the small church.

  Grandmother Isa nodded in understanding. “Don’t forget to wear your shawl.”

  “I will. Thank you for the chat.” She kissed her grandmother on the cheek.

  Grandmother Isa patted Julia’s arm. “When you leave the room, stand up straight and lift your chin. It will make your bosom look bigger.”

  “Grandmother!” she groaned.

  With a swish of her skirts, her grandmother sauntered over to her grandfather, who drew her to his side.

  She ventured to the exit, grabbing two flutes of champagne from a passing server. While she drank, she caught sight of Maria kissing her husband to the delight of their guests and to her resentment.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The late afternoon chill didn’t deter Julia from her course of action. The wrap she wore, and the amount of champagne she drank, warmed her adequately to brave the elements. She always enjoyed this time of year, and looked forward to the cold and snow expected in the coming weeks.

  She studied her husband’s grave, the final resting place the church didn’t sanction at first because David took his own life. If not for her father and Isaiah Reiner, David’s much respected and rich cousin, his body would have never been buried in consecrated ground. It gave her some peace to have David buried in the cemetery where his parents had also been laid to rest.

  She set the champagne flute on top of the stone, along with a white carnation she’d snatched from one of the flower arrangements lining the walls in the hall of Maria’s wedding reception. She still heard the music from inside, a more sedate melody than before, which seemed appropriate for what she had to do.

  Her prayers were few and far between. God never answered them, anyway, not when she asked for advice regarding her confusing feelings for Maria or after she and David had fought when he accused her of no longer loving him. She had cared for him, but more as a friend, and not as a wife should love her husband. If only she had been in love with him, maybe then he would still be alive, and she wouldn’t feel such loneliness and bleak uncertainty for her future.

  He had once been her biggest comfort. But she had destroyed everything because of her shameful actions. Those actions had torn her family apart and led to Ramona’s madness, which had put others in danger.

  “Oh, David, I hope you have forgiven me.” She blinked back tears. “I’ve been so unhappy. I guess I deserve to feel this way. I wish you were here to advise me on how to overcome my wretched melancholia.”

  “I would be more than happy to help you find peace and joy again.”

  She dropped her arms to her side. She should have kept her thoughts quiet. The owner of the voice was apt at eavesdropping and suggesting solutions to problems whether welcomed or not.

  She turned to face Isaiah Reiner, Deerhirst’s sheriff and David’s older cousin. He folded his hands behind his back and bowed. She curtsied in return. When he held out his arms, she had no choice but to accept his hug.

  He’d visited her at least twice a week since her return to Deerhirst. After she moved to Flaundia, he had written to her many times, but she never wrote him back. She wanted distance from everyone she had known while married to David. It meant Isaiah and his younger brother Jude, who ran the family’s textile business. Their older brother, Lance, had moved away from the area some ten years ago to parts unknown.

  Isaiah didn’t release her, even when she pressed his chest to push him away, his satin waistcoat soft under her palms. He cut a fine figure in his expensive garments, unlike David who wore simple tweed jackets and buckskin breeches. She stared up at Isaiah as he smiled at her, incredibly handsome with arresting chocolate-brown eyes, a chiseled face, and silky golden-blond hair. He was toned and fit and tanned. David had been his complete opposite, far too stout with too much body hair. He had a soul of a poet, but the outward appearance of a demon. Isaiah was an angel on the outside, but when displeased, he came across as brutish and spiteful.

  “I’ve missed seeing you today.” He kissed her cheek.

  She patted his chest to get him to release her. After placing an unwelcome kiss near her ear, he let her go. She fisted her hands in her skirt rather than wipe the spot where his mouth had landed. He had always been far too familiar. But he behaved the same way with her mother, and once with Ramona, who had adored him before her attentions had transformed into a sick obsession with another man.

&nbs
p; “You and Jude missed the ceremony?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Jude had some things to take care of at the warehouse, and I had to check paperwork for the court cases scheduled next week. But I’m here now, and I can claim you for a few dances before the reception ends.”

  She stepped back when he moved forward with his arms raised. “I’m not up for dancing.”

  “Is it because of your memories of David?”

  Many times, he had been curt with David, but her husband had thought the world of Isaiah and had welcomed his opinions and critiques. She had known the Reiners, including Maria, since childhood. She had once found great contentment with these friends, but as she matured into an adult, she had become more reserved because of what she witnessed between Isaiah and David. At times, Isaiah’s cutting remarks toward David had unnerved her, and because of it, she had tried to love David with everything inside of her.

  “Yes, I’ve had a bad case of ennui.” She studied the gravestone. “We would have been married six years this January.”

  Isaiah rested his hand on her shoulder. He exhaled, his warm breath sweeping the crown of her head. “It’s been three years since Father’s passing. But I know he’s watching over me, Lance, and Jude.”

  She squeezed his hand and turned. His hand landed on her hip, but when she stiffened, he moved it away. He shrugged in apology, which she accepted with a small smile.

  “Your father was a good man,” she fibbed. The Reiner matriarch had pressured his sons to succeed in life, anything less than perfection unsatisfactory. For the most part, his sons endured their father’s discipline but at a cost. Lance had run away without a backward glance, and Jude had become too reserved and quiet. As for Isaiah, he needed approval and recognition for his success, thus turning to law enforcement as his current position.