The Widowed Countess (13 page)

Not David.

But David Fitzwilliam was the beneficiary of all Daniel’s work to the make Clarinda Anne Brotherton his wife. The heir to the Norwick earldom was betrothed to her, but he had never courted her, never kissed her, never even asked for her hand before their wedding in front of a magistrate. Daniel knew he resembled his older twin brother, but it wasn’t until he watched Clarinda marry the bounder that he realized just what it meant to be David’s Fitzwilliam identical twin.

Well, his brother was dead, damn it. It was his turn. His turn to make Clarinda his wife. And to hell with a year of mourning. He wouldn’t last that long, and he rather hoped Clarinda wouldn’t be able to, either. If it was the last thing he did before he died, Daniel vowed, he would make Clarinda his wife.

Chapter 14

Last Will

Feeling exhausted, Clarinda climbed the steps to Norwick House, very aware of Daniel as he escorted her home. His mother had left Worthington House on the arm of Lord Wallingham, her eyes suitably wet and a hanky clutched in one fist while her other hand rested on the viscount’s beautifully dressed arm. Wallingham assured Daniel he would see the dowager countess to Norwick House in time for the meeting with the solicitor, but Clarinda wondered if the viscount knew the meeting was later that afternoon and not some day the following week.

“It was a splendid service,” Daniel said in a solemn voice. “I was quite impressed with the bishop’s sermon.”

Clarinda dared a sideways glance. She wondered at first if Daniel was being facetious. She’d listened to every word the bishop had said and could hardly find his sermon of any comfort, nor his prayers the least bit affirming. And the gathering at Worthington House had been more of a garden party than a post-funeral soirée. It hadn’t been the fault of their hosts, of course. Adele and Milton Grandby had been gracious hosts, their home suitably solemn, the small sandwiches and cut fruits unlike the more festive fare served at a ball. The guests, however, behaved as if it was just another gathering of the
ton
. Clarinda heard at least two mothers attempt to gain advantageous marriages for their daughters and three arrangements for illicit assignations later that evening. “I fear I cannot share your praise,” she murmured as Porter opened the front door and stepped aside, his head lowering.

Daniel allowed Clarinda to proceed him and then followed until they were well inside the vestibule before he responded. “You’re right, of course. It was all a load of horse manure,” he groused, handing his great coat to Porter as he made the proclamation. The majordomo struggled to keep his face impassive.

Clarinda wondered if Porter wanted to laugh or to punch Daniel for the impertinent comment. Not able to help herself, she gave Daniel a brilliant smile, an expression she hadn’t made since the morning of David’s death. “If you hadn’t said it, I would have,” she whispered as she allowed Porter to help her out of the carriage gown’s pelisse. “Thank you for escorting me, by the way. I rather liked that people seemed to forget it was David we were mourning. They all thought he was right there on my arm the entire time.” She made the comment as she rolled her eyes, hoping Daniel would understand her meaning. It had been positively amazing to watch how some of those in attendance had simply assumed he was David, addressing him as Lord Norwick (which he probably would be, actually, although not until after her babies were born), and then helping themselves to the funeral food and drinks as if they had no clue as to whom they were supposed to be mourning.

Clarinda might have been horrified except for the fact that she’d had no idea whose funerals she’d attended the last two times she’d been to funerals. That thought alone had her staring into space for several seconds, forcing Daniel to wave a hand in front of her face and ask as to her welfare.

“Are you up to this, Clare?” he asked softly. “Because, if you’re not, I can have Mr. Hammond return another day,” he offered, one of his hands cupping her elbow.

Clarinda regarded him for a long moment. “I’m fine, Daniel. Really,” she assured him. “I just want this all to be over,” she said with a wave of her hand. She didn’t add that she wanted it to be over because she was looking forward to climbing into bed and spending the night with David. He might be dead, but he wasn’t buried yet, and she expected he, or his ghost, rather, would pay a visit to her bedchamber at some point during the night.

“I expect mother will be here shortly,” Daniel said as he led her to the study. “In the meantime, would you like a glass of sherry? Or a brandy, perhaps?”

Clarinda considered the offer and shook her head. “I’m thinking I would like some tea,” she said with a shake of her head, not adding that the thought of alcohol of any kind would have her casting up her accounts in a matter of moments. Porter overheard her comment about tea and said he would see to its delivery to the study.

Even before Clarinda and Daniel made their way into the dark paneled study, Dorothea Fitzwilliam appeared in the vestibule looking every bit the merry widow, her face flushed and her manner suggesting she’d been tumbled at least a couple of times in the last hour. “Thank you, Porter,” she said brightly as the majordomo took her pelisse and reticule. “If Lady Seward dares to show her prune face visage, I am not in residence. But, if Viscount Wallingham pays a call, please let me know immediately.” With that last order, the dowager countess made her way to the study.

“So glad you could join us, Mother,” Daniel said, his derision barely concealed.

Dorothea regarded him with an arched brow. “Why, thank you, favorite son,” she countered, her head held high as she made her way to the sideboard and poured herself a brandy. “I learned long ago how to handle my grief. Perhaps, in time, you will learn how to handle yours.”

Clarinda had to suppress the gasp she almost made audible. She had never heard her mother-in-law sound so bitter, so angry with one of her sons. But then, she had never heard one of the woman’s sons sound so judgmental, either.

Daniel almost countered his mother’s statement with a scathing retort of his own, but he had to still his response when he realized how he planned to behave later that night. He, too, would be seeking solace in the arms of another, although he could argue he was merely staking a claim that had been unjustly taken from him so many years before. “I apologize,” he whispered, his hand coming to rest on his mother’s back as he moved to stand next to her. “I have allowed by opinion of Lord Wallingham to come between us, and your association with him is none of my concern,” he said quietly.

Lady Norwick raised her eyes to her son’s gaze, surprised he would apologize. “You’re forgiven, of course,” she replied with a nod, her eyes suddenly limned with tears. Apparently embarrassed, she turned away and caught Clarinda’s gaze. “Now, who is this solicitor we’re waiting for? One of the Hammonds, perhaps?” she wondered, her manner suggesting she was annoyed. She swirled the brandy in the crystal balloon she held, her tears gone as quickly as they appeared.

Clarinda glanced at the mantle clock. Had they been at Worthington House for only two hours? The afternoon had seemed to go on forever. “Yes. Mr. Hammond should be here shortly,” she said with a nod. As if on queue, Porter appeared in the doorway to announce the arrival of the solicitor.

“Send him in,” Daniel stated. He moved to position three chairs in a semi-circle in front of the massive mahogany desk that sat in the middle of the room, intending for the solicitor to sit behind it as he read David Fitzwilliam’s last will and testament. Daniel motioned for Clarinda to take a seat, and she did so just as Mr. Hammond entered the room. The man bowed to them all, apologizing for his tardiness.

“I have just come from the office. I wanted to be sure I had all the final papers,” Mr. Hammond explained. Daniel motioned him to the desk, carefully pushing aside David’s papers to make way for the solicitor’s stack of papers and a briefcase that seemed overstuffed with documents. As he did so, Mr. Hammond gave Daniel an odd glance.

When he caught the solicitor staring at him, Daniel raised an eyebrow. “I am David’s brother, Daniel Fitzwilliam,” he said as he held out his right hand.

“Oh, forgive me, Mr. Fitzwilliam,” the solicitor said with a sudden exhalation of breath. “For a moment there, I thought I was seeing a
ghost
,” he said in awe as he shook Daniel’s hand. He returned his attention to the documents he was arranging on the desk. “Given Lord Norwick’s visit to our office just moments before his untimely death, I have had to pull together his last wishes at the last minute.” The man’s comment caught everyone by surprise.

“Excuse me, but what did you just say?” Clarinda managed to get out, her face displaying her shock. “When he said he was off to see his solicitor, I didn’t realize he meant you,” she whispered, remembering what David had told her the morning he’d come to the parlor and bid her farewell with his elaborate dip and kiss.

Mr. Hammond frowned. “If he visited another solicitor, he did not make it known to anyone in our office,” the balding man replied. He settled himself into the overstuffed leather chair behind the desk and went to a good deal of trouble to put on a pair of spectacles, wrapping the gold wires around each ear and then settling the arched wife between the thick lenses on the end of his nose. He regarded the three family members seated before him. “Shall I begin?”

Daniel, seated between his mother and Clarinda, shrugged. “Please do.”

The solicitor took a deep breath and picked up the first piece of parchment he had laid before him. “Lord Norwick’s last will and testament is dated four days ago. From the comments he made during our meeting, he knew he was destined to die and wanted to be sure arrangements were in place for his loved ones.”

This time, Clarinda’s gasp was very audible, as were Daniel’s and Dorothea’s. “Destined to die?” Clarinda repeated in a hoarse whisper. “How could he know he was going to die of a broken neck in a traffic accident?” she breathed, her thoughts spinning out of control.

Mr. Hammond merely shrugged. “I do not believe he knew he was going to die that afternoon, Lady Norwick. He just knew he would eventually. As we all do,” he added with a cocked eyebrow, his manner suggesting he had accepted his own fate as a man who would die at some point.

“Oh,” Clarinda managed to get out, somewhat embarrassed at her outburst. “Please, go on,” she said, hoping her mother-in-law wasn’t sending her dagger-filled stares.

“Just because death is inevitable does not mean you need to take such a tone with my daughter-in-law,” Dorothea countered, her rebuke so surprising that Clarinda made another audible gasp.
What had happened to upset Lady Norwick so?

“Pardon me, Lady Norwick,” the solicitor said, holding a flat hand against his chest as he seemed to bow in his seat. “I tend to indifference in these proceedings as a means to keep the tone professional and not .. emotional,” he explained. “I will endeavor to be more sympathetic to the widow’s situation.”

Daniel sighed. “Please proceed, Mr. Hammond,” he encouraged, placing one hand over one of his mother’s and another over one of Clarinda’s.

“Of course, Mr. Fitzwilliam.” The man took a deep breath. “As there is no heir apparent, the earldom would normally pass to the heir presumptive, Daniel Jonathan Andrew Fitzwilliam, however, Lord Norwick stated that Lady Norwick was with child at the time of his visit to our offices. Is this still the case?” he wondered, pulling his spectacles down a bit so he could peer over the top of them.

“Yes, it is,” Clarinda replied, leaning forward a bit, wondering how quickly the news was spreading across London given Grandby’s earlier comment to the bishop.

She didn’t add that she was carrying twins.

“Then Daniel Alexander George Fitzwilliam may or may not be the next Earl of Norwick. We shall have to wait until you’ve given birth. At such time, the earldom will either pass to your son, should you have one, or, if not, to Daniel Jonathan Andrew Fitzwilliam. Entailed properties will remain with the earldom,” the solicitor stated, apparently reading from the parchment he held up. “These include Norwick Park and all of its lands and tenant cottages, a house and various other support buildings on said property; Norwick House along with its carriage house and stables; and a dowager cottage in Bognor. The unentailed properties having belonged to David Alexander George Fitzwilliam pass to Daniel Jonathan Andrew Fitzwilliam and include a townhouse in Mayfair currently under lease to Lord Pettigrew for use by his mistress ...”

The solicitor didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by the mention of a townhouse leased for use by a mistress, but Clarinda had to suppress a shudder. She wondered if Lady Pettigrew knew of her husband’s arrangement with a mistress and then wondered if perhaps Lady Pettigrew had urged her husband to take a mistress. Some women in the
ton
didn’t like sharing a bed with their husbands – ever –, she remembered, feeling gratified that she and David’s love match had probably started in the marriage bed. Clarinda had to shake herself from her reverie as she realized Mr. Hammond was continuing his recitation.. “...Several additional tenant cottages and two other properties in south Sussex.” He looked up at the two women before him. “The widow is to continue living at Norwick House, the mother is to continue residing in the cottage in Bognor, and it is recommended Mr. Fitzwilliam give up his apartments in Bruton Street and make his primary residence at Norwick House to better facilitate attendance at Parliament and Society events,” the solicitor said before moving to a new sheet of parchment.

Daniel struggled to keep his face impassive. David really had intended him to live at Norwick House, even before the man had died and become a ghost!  But to direct Clarinda to live there, too? Didn’t the man know she despised him?
Of course, he did.
What had he said about giving Clarinda to Daniel? Because he’d stolen her from him? Daniel felt a sudden appreciation for what his brother had been up to – what he was up to – the man was playing matchmaker!
Bless his heart!

Clarinda found herself wondering what David could be thinking by having her live under the same roof as Daniel. What could the man have been thinking just four days ago? He’d never made mention of his intention to have his brother and her live under the same roof! They could barely tolerate each other’s company!

Trying to keep her attention on the solicitor, Clarinda dared a glance over at Daniel and found him doing the same in her direction. They both turned their heads toward the solicitor as if they’d been caught doing something illegal, guilty looks quickly replaced by bland expressions.

“All clothing and personal items such cravat pins, cuff links, shoes and sundries, including the sandalwood and amber colognes, are bequeathed to Daniel.” The man’s face seem to scrunch up as he read the scrawls on the page. “It says here you’re to wear the colognes whenever you are expected to be in the company of Lady Norwick as she is especially fond of the scent,” he said, his face suddenly turning a dark shade of scarlet. “Can’t say I’ve ever had that mentioned in a will before,” he commented.

Clarinda stared at the solicitor and slowly turned to Daniel, her gaze quickly returning to Mr. Hammond when she realized Daniel’s gaze was on her again.
I never said anything about his cologne before he died,
Clarinda thought frantically. What must Daniel think?
That I had David add the request to the will? He’ll probably think of it as some kind of punishment.