The Widowed Countess (28 page)

Epilogue

As Dorothea Norwick had predicted, Society practically ignored Clarinda’s quick wedding to Daniel Norwick. The private affair, conducted by a bishop in the gardens behind Worthington House, was witnessed by the Earl and Countess Torrington and by the groom’s mother and new stepfather. Although she wasn’t sure, Clarinda thought she spotted David watching from behind a statue of Cupid, a wry smile lighting his face. Before she could confirm his presence, though, his visage disappeared. She hadn’t seen him since the day of his burial and often wondered if he would ever return to visit her.

The Fitzwilliams enjoyed a brief wedding trip to Derbyshire before settling into married life at Norwick House, their social calendar clear given most of London had escaped to the country for the summer months. If any of those who remained in town objected to the idea of a widowed countess marrying before her year of mourning was complete, they didn’t seem to voice their opinion. Indeed, Clarinda wondered if Dorothea had been right – most who saw her with Daniel simply addressed him as “Norwick” and continued to afford him the same courtesy they would if Daniel truly was the Earl of Norwick.

When she was nearly seven months pregnant, Clarinda realized Daniel’s fortieth birthday would come before the twins were born. She thought of the paintings that still hung in his bedchamber. Would the artist who had rendered her so faithfully in those paintings be willing to paint her as a Madonna with child? With her left hand resting on her pronounced belly, Clarinda penned a missive to the artist, explaining she had little time before her daughters would be born.

Jean-Claude Lamorette responded to Clarinda’s letter within the month, explaining he had taken up residence in England to do a portrait of Lady Sommers. Apparently, Evangeline’s husband had commissioned him based on a recommendation made to him by a certain earl who claimed to enjoy the sight of the artist’s paintings every time he was in his bedchamber. Clarinda nearly blushed when she read Monsieur Lamorette’s correspondence, thinking perhaps her first husband had given Lord Sommers the man’s name. But then she found herself wondering how many other aristocrats had the artist’s work gracing their bedchambers. Certainly the artist was well known enough to have painted a variety of portraits over the years.

Perhaps David wasn’t the first aristocrat to receive a Lamorette from his wife. 

Jean-Claude agreed to paint Clarinda, arriving the following week with his box of paints and a large, white canvas he quickly erected in a guest bedroom. Gushing over Clarinda’s beauty in her state of impending motherhood, he insisted she allow him to paint her as a nude Madonna. A translucent dressing gown was the only covering he would abide, he explained, adding that she had no need to feel embarrassed. Stunned, Clarinda nearly cancelled the sitting. In the end, Jean-Claude prevailed when he mentioned he had seen dozens of ladies of the
ton au natural
.

After six days of sittings, at times during which Daniel was otherwise occupied with estate issues, the artist declared he had seen enough of Clarinda to complete the work without her posing for him. He continued for three more days in the guest bedroom, his presence kept a secret from Daniel.

Clarinda ordered a frame to be constructed, one that matched those surrounding the other paintings Jean-Claude had completed, and arranged for the artist to complete the mounting. With only a day to spare, the Lamorette was draped with a Holland cloth and the artist took his leave of Norwick House.

Daniel regarded his very pregnant wife with an expression of doubt. The shape of the covered object suggested a painting was hidden beneath the fabric. But with Clarinda, he couldn’t be sure. “May I?” he wondered as he motioned toward the top corner.

Clarinda’s hands were suddenly clasped in front of her body, her wrists resting on the swollen evidence of her impending motherhood. “On one condition,” she finally answered, dividing her attention between Daniel and the object in question.

“That being?” he countered, his brows furrowing so a fold of skin appeared between them. “You know I will be pleased simply because it is a gift from you,” he reasoned with a carefree shrug.

Relaxing a bit, Clarinda tilted her head to one side. “I do not think you should display this where the servants can see,” she whispered, her face coloring up to a soft pink.

Her suddenly coy manner had Daniel thinking of the manner in which he planned to pleasure her later that evening. If she was half as willing and as loud as she’d been the night before, he might have to find a secluded place in the park behind the house in which to try out his newest seduction. Thank the gods the French had been so thorough in documenting and illustrating sexual positions. And thank David, who had seen to it his library was well stocked with such literary fare.

Clarinda’s words brought a wicked grin to Daniel’s face. “For my eyes only, then?” he replied. He reached out to lift the fabric from the corner, but Clarinda’s hand stopped his before he could do so.

“Allow me,” she whispered, moving so she was between Daniel and the painting.

“Alright,” Daniel reluctantly agreed, stepping back a bit. He watched as Clarinda’s flush deepened.

“You won’t laugh?” she said with a slight shake of her head, the edge of the fabric pinched between two fingers.

“I will not laugh,” Daniel agreed, his head shaking from side to side. “I may die of curiosity ...” He allowed the sentence to trail off as Clarinda slowly pulled the fabric from in front of the painting, exposing Jean Claude’s familiar painting style as well as Clarinda’s nude and obviously pregnant form draped in a sheer French negligée. Her hands were resting atop her swollen belly as she leaned against a wall next to a window, one knee bent slightly so most of that leg was uncovered by the filmy fabric. The lifted thigh hid the dark curls of her nether region, an effect far more titillating than if it had been shown. A cascade of brunette hair tumbled over one shoulder, hinting at the shape of the breast it hid while the other was readily apparent, its nipple poking against the sheer robe so it appeared as if there was nothing covering it. Light from the window illuminated her tilted face, giving her the look of a Greek goddess contemplating her future. The painting was perfect in every sense, Clarinda’s likeness so well rendered Daniel was tempted to reach out and caress her.

Forcing himself to take a breath, Daniel regarded the painting for a very long time before turning his attention to its subject.

Clarinda’s face was turned up, as if she was begging for forgiveness from some other being. “It’s magnificent,” he spoke in a reverent tone. “Amazing. I ... I find I am jealous that Jean Claude saw you like this,” he whispered.

Clarinda lowered her gaze to meet his, her face still pink with her embarrassment. “You’re not laughing,” she said quietly.

Daniel shook his head and returned his attention to the painting. “No. I couldn’t laugh at this. I am awed, in fact. Awed, and rather touched that you would bestow such a perfect gift on me on the occasion of my fortieth birthday,” he whispered. Before Clarinda could respond, he had her gathered in his arms and was kissing her with such possessiveness, Clarinda could do nothing more than return the kiss in equal measure.

When he finally ended the kiss, more because he had a need for air and found he could barely breathe, Daniel left his forehead pressed against Clarinda’s.

“Happy birthday,” Clarinda whispered before she winced.

Alarmed at her expression of pain, Daniel straightened. “What is it?” he wondered, his hands gripping the tops of her arms.

“My back has been aching all day, and my water broke a few moments ago and ...” She winced again, this time sucking air through her teeth as her hands moved to the sides of her swollen belly.

“Broke?” Daniel repeated, dumbfounded.

Clarinda waved a hand at the wet spot on the Aubusson carpet below. “Yes, and despite your mother’s claim that I would be in labor for hours and hours, I do believe these girls are intent on being born on their uncle’s birthday,” she managed to get out before she nearly doubled-over in pain.

“Oh,” Daniel replied as he stepped back. “
Oh!
” His eyes wide and full of fright, he glanced about. “What do I ... what do I
do?
” he wondered. Seeing Clarinda’s pain, he lifted her into his arms.

“Have Anna send for the midwife. And for the physician. And ...” Clarinda struggled for breath. “Put me into that chaise over there ...” She pointed toward the chaise lounge in the corner of the room.

Daniel moved toward the chaise even before Clarinda could finish her sentence. “Stay with me.” This last was delivered in a desperate whisper that Daniel could not ignore.

“Of course,” he answered, reaching over to pull the bell chord to summon a servant. “Isn’t this a bit ... soon?” he wondered, trying to keep the worry from his voice.

Clarinda nodded and then shrugged with one shoulder. “Well, maybe,” she agreed. “Maybe not,” she added with a shrug of her other shoulder before a contraction caused her to gasp.

Daniel’s valet appeared at the door, obviously surprised at the sight of his master’s wife on the chaise as well as in the painting that was leaning against the far wall. “Shall I send for a physician?” he asked, tearing his attention away from the painting to find Daniel giving him a quelling look. “Yes. And the midwife. And make it fast!”

Once the valet had taken his leave of the room, Daniel pulled the counterpane from the bed and tossed it over the painting, not wanting any other servants or the physician to see his birthday gift. He hurried back to Clarinda’s side, not sure what else to do.

Despite Clarinda’s insistence that Daniel remain in his bedchamber with her, the midwife shoo’d him out before she’d even knelt next to the chaise, claiming it would be hours before a babe would be born.

Cursing the older woman in a voice that could probably be heard down the entire length of Park Lane, Clarinda threatened to dismiss the woman from her employ. In a matter of moments, a baby girl appeared, surprising the midwife and causing Daniel to reappear at Clarinda’s side.

“I’m here,” he whispered, his stomach roiling at the sight of the bloodied baby the midwife was working to clean up with a linen towel. Clarinda’s hand gripped his, the strength of her fingers causing him to grimace. “I intended to use those fingers to tickle our children,” he managed to get out before Clarinda grasped his meaning and relaxed her hold.

“Sorry,” she whispered. She watched as the midwife stood and moved toward the door. “Where are you going? I’m not
done
yet,” Clarinda wailed. The piercing scream she let out had the midwife hurrying out the door, as if the woman feared for her very life.

“Christ!” Daniel cursed, glancing at the departing midwife before returning his attention to Clarinda. “Are you truly having another?” he asked, his breaths coming in short gasps that perfectly matched his wife’s.

“I am,” she replied, her face scrunching into pain as her keening filled the room.

Daniel removed his coat and undid the cuff links at his wrists. He pushed his sleeves up his arms and positioned himself where he’d seen the midwife just moments before. “Oh, God,” he murmured, surprised at the sight of dark hair where his cock had been only the night before. “Oh, Christ,” he added, moving a hand to rest under the head of an emerging baby.

The sound of Clarinda’s cry trailed off as the babe spilled into in his arms. Not sure what to do, he cradled its head in one hand and held the rest in his other hand, hugging the wet baby against the front of his shirt. “Oh, my,” he whispered. Although the tiny girl squirmed against his chest, Daniel’s attention was on Clarinda. Her look of pain had been replaced with awe, her arms reaching out to the babe he suddenly realized he had cradled against him. He offered it to her just as it began to cry. “Are you ... are you well?” he wondered as he moved closer to her side.

Tears were streaming down her face. Her hair had come loose from its pins, some of the curls plastered against her damp forehead. The gown she wore was wrinkled and probably ruined beyond repair. But at that moment, Daniel thought Clarinda looked more beautiful than she ever had.

“I think so,” she said, positioning the baby in one arm as she used a finger to wipe its face.

At that moment, the midwife returned to the room, the baby she carried now cleaned and wrapped in a blanket. “Oh!” she let out, startled to see Clarinda holding a baby.

“‘Oh’ is right,” Daniel spoke with a good deal of authority. He strode to where the midwife stood and took the baby from her arms. “If you could see to the other?” he hinted as he settled the newborn against his shoulder.

The midwife gave him a nervous curtsy before hurrying to retrieve the other baby from Clarinda. “Bring her back as soon as you can,” Clarinda said as she took the first-born from Daniel.

“Yes, my lady,” the woman replied as she hurried out the bedchamber door, her burden letting out a wail that seemed to fade as the woman moved to the next room.

Clarinda kissed her baby’s head, murmured quiet assurances, and let out a long sigh when the infant fell asleep. “She’s perfect,” she whispered as she caressed her cheek against the newborn’s downy covered head.

“They both are,” Daniel whispered in reply, sitting down on the edge of the chaise. He leaned over and kissed Clarinda. “The best birthday presents I have ever received, I think,” he murmured before using the fingers of one hand to comb her hair away from her face. “Thank you,” he whispered, his gaze one of adoration.

“You’re welcome, my lord,” Clarinda replied with a grin. “And now you truly are the Earl of Norwick.”

At the moment, Daniel couldn’t have cared less as to his status as an earl, preferring the title of ‘father’ or even ‘uncle’ to the just-born girls.
And I am both
, he realized with a grin as he took the second-born from the nervous mid-wife’s hands.
So tiny, so perfect.

Clarinda sighed again. “Well, before these two demand their first dinner, I suppose I should use the time to send a note to Adele.”

Daniel shook his head, not surprised Clarinda would seem ready to resume normal life. “Or you could spend the time sleeping,” he suggested. “You must be exhausted.” He moved to place the other baby in her empty arm.