TWO HOURS.
For two hours, I’ve watched the clock on the wall slowly tick away as I waited for him to return. I finally gave up and bathed. Once clean, I felt renewed. The heartbreak he so carelessly bestowed upon me was left along with the suds in the tepid water.
I’m horrified that I so easily gave myself to him. That I assumed that this was different. That, finally, someone wanted me for more than just a place to come.
But, alas, Alexander is like the rest. Just like William and Sven.
I’m so foolish.
Thoughts of Sven’s dark, wavy hair and smoky brown eyes assault me.
He drags a slender finger between my bare breasts and I let out a small chuckle when he dips it into my belly button.
“This is my favorite part of you, lover,” Sven says in his thick Spanish accent and presses a kiss on my nose. “Simply beautiful.”
I sigh and palm his cheek. My professor and I began flirting when I first became a student of his. But now, months later, we’re completely devoted to each other as lovers.
“I want to be your wife. You tell me you love me all the time. Why not marry me? I want to have your children,” I pout.
His eyes darken and his lips press into a firm line. I’ve upset him.
I slip my fingers into his hair and pull him to my lips. “You love me too.”
He smiles at my words. “I do love you. That is why I’m going to taste every inch of your flesh. Tonight when we make love, I’m going to make you come over and over again until—”
Someone pounds on the other side of his office door, interrupting him.
“Who is it? It’s late!” I hiss at him as I scramble to redress.
Sven tugs on his clothes and yanks up the blanket from the sofa we were lying on. He still hasn’t answered me but he seems worried. Surely, if it’s the dean from the university or another employee, he can explain to them that we’re in love. It will all work out.
“Sven,” a female voice shouts, “It’s me, Margareta.”
“Goddammit,” he huffs out.
I throw him a questioning look to which is answered with an apologetic one as he unlocks the door. The door immediately flies open and a stunning woman with long flowing brown hair glides in. She’s carrying a baby with chubby cheeks on one hip and tugging along a small child behind her.
“Who are you?” she questions, looking straight past Sven at me.
“I, uh, I’m his—” I start but Sven interrupts me.
“Darling, this is my student. She required some additional tutoring but was just leaving.”
His words are dismissive as he takes the baby from her. “My son, I’ve missed you.”
I gape at him but my heart shatters when he leans forward and kisses the woman on the lips—lips that were moments earlier promising to do very naughty things to me.
“Who is this, Sven?” I ask in a shrill tone. I want to hear the words from his mouth even though I know exactly who this woman is to him.
He scowls and shakes his head slightly at me. I feel a threat in his stare. “This is my wife, Miss Merriweather. I’ll see you in class tomorrow. Good evening.”
His wife. Of course. While we were together and she was so far away, it were almost as if she were a fantasy. Never had he mentioned her name or even spoken much of his children. It was always just the two of us. And he always professed his love for me. I had imagined I would come first if it ever came down to me against her.
Clearly I was wrong.
As the door closes behind me, I know that I was his toy. Nothing more.
That night crushed me. I had spent three days in my bed sobbing and nursing my broken heart. He had cast me aside for something better—his family. A family I had known little about. It still sickens me that he made so many empty promises—that he told me over and over again that he loved me.
It was all a farce.
I was used as a place for him to get off until his wife came back. Much like William used me until it was time to go running back to Lissa.
And Alexander?.
I’m sure he has his own wicked scheme up his sleeve. This time, though, I won’t sit idly and watch it happen. My heart isn’t his to use and abuse.
A knock at the door startles my thoughts, and I smooth out the frock I redressed in before answering.
“Oh, hello, Alcott,” I say flatly. I’m in no mood to grace him with a smile, as that would take too much effort.
“Countess.” He nods and holds both of my suitcases up. “I figured you might need these. Father prefers everyone to dress accordingly for dinner. And that frock belongs in the bin.”
My lip quivers at his statement, and his callous smirk fades away.
“My words were in jest, dear.” He smiles in a genuine way that takes the sting away. “I honestly was trying to be nice by bringing you your things. To make up for the way I behaved earlier.”
Now that he’s smiling and being pleasant, I cave. “Thank you. I’ll make sure I’m presentable.”
He flashes me a flirtatious grin, and I roll my eyes at him.
“What? I’m trying here,” he chuckles.
“I think I like you better when you’re not,” I tease back.
His eyes widen when he’s shoved to the side as Alexander enters the room.
“Moving in on my wife?” Alexander snarls. “So typical, Alcott.”
Alcott scoffs at his brother. “Hardly. See you both at dinner.”
The moment the door slams behind him, I turn to glare at Alexander. Sweat drips from his hair, which has fallen in his face, and a scowl has stolen his features. If I weren’t so angry at him, I’d think he was absolutely delicious-looking.
“You may unpack our things while I bathe,” he says blandly as he pushes his trousers down on the way to the washroom, giving me a beautiful view of his arse.
When the door closes behind him, I want to scream in frustration. Instead, I swallow down my hurt and curiosity about where he’s been. Then I scoop both suitcases up and bring them over to the bed, where not but three hours ago my husband used me like a plaything.
I’m nauseated by the very idea of it.
He takes his precious time in the washroom while I unpack my stuff. I leave his in the suitcase. My arse of a husband can unpack it his damn self.
Once I’ve placed all of my makeup onto the vanity, I sit at it and take the time to artfully paint up my face so I shall be breathtaking. Alcott thinks I’m plain—well, he can eat his words right along with his supper, because I plan on making him feel like a fool.
It’s apparent that, in this family, you have to always have your claws bared. They’re hell-bent on literally screwing you the moment you let your guard down. Well, no more. I’m not going down without a fight.
I peer at my reflection, satisfied at the change in my appearance after I’ve applied the color to my face. The rosy dusting on my cheeks makes my cheekbones seem higher, and I wink in the mirror. My full lips are now as crimson as the blood I’ll shed if those bastards try to mess with me. A smile plays on them as I think about bloodying up a certain man in the room next door.
My hair has become a mess, so I twist it into a chignon and pin any strays in place. In a mere minutes, I’ve completely transformed into a woman of elegance. A woman who fits in at this estate.
A countess.
After a quick search through the armoire in which I hung my dresses, I decide upon my most expensive dress and then put it on. The silky, black material hugs my body in all of the most flattering ways, and the corset I choose lifts my breasts in an eye-catching manner.
The Dumont men can go to Hell, because I know I look amazing.
I’m smoothing my dress out when the washroom door swings open and Alexander fills the doorway. The plush towel is tied dangerously low on his hips, accentuating the way his pelvic muscles point downward in a delectable “v,” and water droplets remain on his sculpted chest. He’s taken the time to shave his normally overgrown face, and I’d be lying if I were to say that I were immune to how handsome he is when he’s clean-shaven. My breath catches at the sight, and I am immediately angry at myself.
He used me.
I’ll do well to remember that.
“Like what you see?” He smirks as he saunters over to the armoire. “I could give you more of what I gave you earlier.”
“I hate you,” I seethe.
He chuckles without humor at me as he searches through the large mahogany piece of furniture for his clothing. “Where are my clothes?”
This time, I’m the one smiling in sweet revenge. “In your suitcase. Next time, call the maid, because I’m certainly not one. Last time I checked, I am the Countess of Havering, married to a pompous earl.”
He curses under his breath as he storms over to the bed and begins rifling through his clothing. I observe with pleasure as he searches for this things. Once he’s found everything and starts dressing, I go to exit the room, but his words stop me.
“Where are you going?”
I turn and stare at him incredulously. “I have business to attend to,” I say, spitting his own words back at him.
He fastens his trousers as he stalks over to me. His dress shirt is open, and my eyes once again skitter across his chest before making their way to his furious gaze.
“You’re not going anywhere without me. We have an act to uphold, and your going anywhere without me will appear to be suspicious.”
“Oh, I can act. Just like when I acted as if I were turned on by the way you touched me, dear husband. Honestly, I was bored. As you fingered me, I wondered what it is we’d have for supper. I thought about whether or not your brother were a better lover.”
His steely eyes narrow and he becomes enraged. I wonder for a moment if he’ll hit me like that bastard Victor. Instead, he slips a palm around the back of my neck and crashes his lips to mine. My breath is stolen from me as he kisses me deeply. And while the desire to push him away is strong, the warmth he pulls from my body only draws me more into the kiss.
I slide my palms over his pectoral muscles and skim my thumbs along the ridges of them. He’s quite possibly the fittest man I’ve ever been with. As his cock grows hard between us, I hate the fact that, if he were to ask me to bed, I’d go willingly. Finally, he breaks our kiss and rests his forehead against mine, his coal-colored eyes searching mine for answers.
“You’re an insufferable woman. I’m pretty sure you’re insane.”
His words hurt, but I don’t let it show. “And you’re no prize chicken yourself,” I bite out.
This time, his lips softly meet mine, and I nearly sob at the sweetness of this kiss. No man kisses me unless it’s passionate and a means to making love to me. But Alexander? He’s kissing me as if I’m precious to him.
When he practically jerks himself away from me, I stare at him with questions dancing in my head. He grits his teeth and shakes his head before he finishes dressing. Apparently, he doesn’t know the answers either.
“You’ll arrive in the dining room on my arm. No negotiations,” he murmurs as he adjusts his bowtie.
Even though his words infuriate me, I’m still lost in our kisses. This man makes no sense to me. I hate him, yet . . .
I don’t.
I simply don’t.
In fact, I crave more of him.
I crave the urge to slap him and then let him fuck me senseless.
“This way,” Alexander grumbles as he ushers me into the exuberant dining room.
The table is extremely long, enough to fit at least fifty people. One end has been set with plates and tableware for our supper. There, three people turn to regard us as we enter.
“Alexander!” a female voice chirps upon our entrance.
“Mother,” Alexander greets warmly as he releases my hand to stride over to her. His entire persona has changed upon the presence of this woman.
I follow behind him and wait to be introduced. As he hugs her in her chair, my eyes skitter over to Alcott, who is gaping at me. I wink at him in a way that says, Take that, you smug bastard, and he grins. With a slight nod on his part, I’m awarded with his approval. I’ll take it. Maybe Alcott isn’t as bad as I originally thought.
“Who is the vision you’ve brought to supper?” she asks with a smile once he releases her.
“My wife,” he replies gruffly.
I’m about to swat at him to remind him we’re supposed to be convincing his family, but his mother beats me to it. She rears her fist back and socks him in the belly, which causes me to gasp. Her action has Alcott bursting with laughter.
“You went off to London and got married? Without telling your mother?” she scolds.
“Mother, meet my wife, Edith. Edith, meet my mean-as-a-snake mother, Maude,” Alexander groans. I don’t miss the affectionate tone in his voice though that contradicts his words. He loves her and that has my heart clenching in my chest.
I reach my hand out to shake hers, but she holds her arms open. Her gesture causes an ache in my chest as I long for my own mother. Tears well in my eyes, so I hurry and throw myself into the hug to hide my emotions from her. She smells sweet, like peonies.
“You’re a beautiful treasure, dear Edith. We’re honored to have you in our family,” she whispers into my ear.
A tear rolls out as she strokes my back. I already love this woman. One hug and I don’t care if the rest of the family members are nothing but self-gratifying monsters. Maude is the true family jewel, and I cannot wait to learn more about her.
“Please sit beside me, darling,” she coos as I pull away. And as any mother would, she notices my being upset and flashes me a look that promises that everything will be okay.
I swipe the tear away and sit in the seat Alexander has pulled out for me. She reaches over and takes my hand, squeezing it in a reassuring way. Her touch is almost hot, and I’m once again reminded of my mother, especially in her last days, when she was so ill.
“Jasper and Elisabeth won’t be making it for supper tonight,” Alfred informs us. “It appears your sister was feeling exhausted from your travels.”
I nod and steal a glance over at Alexander, who has found his seat beside me. He’s watching my exchange with his mother with interest.
“Nicolette, we may carry on with dinner,” Alfred booms over his shoulder toward the door to the kitchen.
Alexander sighs beside me, and I shoot him a questioning look. He won’t meet my gaze, though, because he’s too busy sending death looks to his brother, who’s wearing a pleased grin. What in the world did I miss?
“Edith darling, we’re going to plan a celebration. It simply isn’t fair that I missed my eldest son’s wedding. We’ll hold an elegant reception tomorrow evening. All of our closest friends and family will join us,” Maude tells me in a firm tone as she finally releases my hand.
I nod in agreement, but my attention is drawn away from her when a gorgeous woman steps into the dining room carrying two bottles of wine. She’s followed by two more older women who are holding trays. Her dress indicates she’s the help, but she may as well be royalty, because she doesn’t belong in the clothing.
My eyes are drawn to her rather large cleavage, which is busting out the top of the black blouse of her uniform. The top two buttons have been undone, and something about the way she carries herself rubs me the wrong way. Her pink lips curve into a grin when she sees my husband.
Back off, princess.
“Nicolette,” Alexander greets with a grumble.
She saunters over to his side, completely ignoring me, and sets the bottles on the table. “Alexander, you look good—really good. I’ve missed you.”
With every sugary-sweet word that pours from her mouth, I feel my talons extend. There’s clearly a history between these two—before me—over which I’m already feeling jealous. They may have some sort of history, but he’s mine now.
When she leans down and hugs him, dipping her breasts in front of his face, I lose control.
“Good evening. I’m Alexander’s wife,” I seethe between clenched teeth.
She jerks back up and stares at me in shock, as if she’s seeing me for the first time. Alcott’s sniggering from across the table reminds me that I don’t, in fact, like him.
“Oh,” she says as she eyes me, her blond curls bouncing. “I haven’t heard one thing about you.” She places a hand on Alexander’s shoulder and squeezes it. “Alexander, I had no idea you had settled down. If only I had known you were ready to settle. I would have . . .” her voice trails off with a hint of remorse.
“I’ll have some wine now, please,” I tell her coldly, reminding her of her place in this house.
Her cheeks redden, and she whips her head over to Alcott as if to ask how to respond to me. He shrugs his shoulders and smirks. I think I like him again.
“Yes, of course,” she murmurs in an embarrassed tone.
Alexander glances over at me and shakes his head in disproval. I don’t care though. The maid should step away from my husband before I push her away.
“I was just in the garden the other day, and the lemon trees were yielding the most beautiful batch of lemons almost ripe for the picking. Perhaps, Edith, tomorrow, we’ll pick them and use them in our décor for the reception?” Maude questions, drawing me away from my desire to claw Nicolette’s eyeballs out.
Her sweet tone is almost that of how my mother’s used to be. She always had an uncanny ability to dissolve arguments between my sisters and me. An ache in my chest seizes me as I regard the woman who reminds me so much of my mother, whom I miss dearly.
“That would be lovely, Maude. Lemons remind me of home. We had many fruit trees in our orchard in the fields behind our house. My sisters and I would get lost for hours picking fruit. A lemon-themed reception sounds perfect, actually.” I smile.
She takes my hand again, and something in the way she clenches it makes me think she’s proud of my letting Nicolette be. Just like mother would be.
“Darling, call me Ma. Maude is much too formal for you to call me. We’re family now,” she says with a grin.
With tears filling my eyes, I nod my understanding. We are family, and I somehow already love this woman I’ve only been with for a matter of minutes.