The Cursed Countess: The Daring Drake Sisters, #1

By Christie Kelley

How many husbands must die before the gossips say it’s a curse? In Lady Tessa Stanhope’s case, three husbands in five years has set tongues wagging. So when she attracts the attention of the handsome and mysterious Jack Raynerson, she is torn between desire for him and the yearning to keep him safe. But Jack is making it clear that he’s more interested in her than the curse.

Is she truly unlucky or the killer they say she is? Tessa’s stepson hires Jack to investigate the suspicious death of his father, her third husband. To gather evidence against her, Jack decides he must get closer to her. While he remains unsure of her guilt or innocence, he is certain of one thing…he wants her.

Just when Jack decides Tessa cannot possibly be guilty, there is another death. Can he believe in her innocence and her love? Or will he be her next victim?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christie Kelley
• Release date: Mar 15, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386737629

Christie Kelley

Award winning author Christie Kelley writes Regency set historical romances from her home in Maryland. When not writing, she is usually in the garden, fixing something around the house and surrounded by her two sons and two Siberian cats. Christie loves to hear from her readers. Please visit her at: www.christiekelley.com www.facebook.com/ChristieKelleyAuthor/ www.twitter.com/christiekelley

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

London 1817

She’s here!

Jack Raynerson raised a wry eyebrow at his friend’s comment. It was hardly a surprise that Miss Louisa Drake attended the ball for her youngest sister, Emma. The disbelief that had the crowd murmuring tonight stood next to Miss Drake. The appearance of her older sister, Lady Theresa Stanhope seemed to stun the crush of people.

The notable arrival at the ball tonight stood with her head held high as if daring anyone to speak of her entrance. Lady Stanhope clasped her sister’s arm in proud silence well aware that most people in the room had no wish to converse with her. They walked toward the duke to greet the host of the ball. Jack watched her every move. 

Are you certain you still wish to meet Lady Stanhope? Blakely asked, still staring at Miss Drake.

Oh, indeed I do. Jack’s employer had warned him about the widow. Working for Fairchild’s investigation company gave him two things he needed in life: money and a purpose. His purpose was to expose the widow as the murderess of her latest husband. And quite possibly her other two husbands as well.

Even with her reputation? Which, I might add, she has not helped by coming out of mourning three months early.

Jack smiled at the woman’s audacity. Not only had she come out of mourning three months early, but instead of wearing a black or even a sedate gray gown, she entered the room clad in shimmering emerald silk. He had no doubt that this was a woman on the prowl for husband number four. She did, however, garner a little respect from him for thumbing her nose at society’s mourning convention. He decided to feign ignorance to see if his friend had any information that differed from what his employer had given him.

What reputation? It cannot be all that scandalous if the duke is hosting her sister’s come out ball.

Blakely finally tore his gaze away from Miss Drake and looked at him with his chestnut brows furrowed. Everyone knows about Lady Stanhope. You must have heard the rumors.

I can’t say that I have heard much at all in regards to Lady Stanhope, Jack said with a shrug.

Blakely leaned in closer. Some say she poisoned all three of her husbands.

Indeed? All three? Jack was a tad impressed that the petite young woman could accomplish such a feat without one arrest. She was either innocent or extremely cunning. The chances of three husbands dying so quickly after marrying the same woman would be astronomical. All criminals made mistakes. No one had discovered hers yet, but he would.

Yes, Blakely continued, although, I have met her and find it difficult to believe such rumors. She has always been quite pleasant to me. But fact is fact, and three dead husbands in five years is a bit much.

Of course, she was pleasant to him, Jack thought. Blakely was a viscount and all but bled money. Unlike Jack, whose own financial position seemed bleak at best most days.

What else do you know about her? Jack asked, hoping his gossipy friend would continue the tale.

I just cannot believe you’ve heard none of this.

She and I have never crossed paths that I am aware of, so no, I have heard nothing much about her.

She has been fodder for the gossipmongers for months.

Jack shook his head. I don’t spend most of my nights at balls.

Blakely rolled his eyes as if aghast that Jack could have missed such juicy gossip. He took a step closer and lowered his voice. The woman was married three times and her longest marriage only lasted two months. Her first husband was Baron Langley. The man was near to sixty when he wed the twenty-year-old.

Why would she agree to such a thing? Money? Jack asked.

Blakely leaned in even closer as if the gossip he was about to impart had never been heard. In a whispered voice, he said, Her mother pressed for the marriage after the girls’ father passed, leaving only a small allowance to support them. And Langley needed an heir.

Jack shook his head. The eternal desire for the heir and the spare. He supposed his own bitterness was due to being the spare, and not the heir. Of course, not having the responsibility of becoming the next Viscount Bideford had made his life much more enjoyable. Poor Neville had been married at twenty-five to the daughter of an earl and saddled with their father’s gambling debts. Jack had nothing against Georgiana, but the marriage had taken the spontaneity out of Neville.

So how did old Langley die? Fairchild hadn’t given him much background on her previous husbands, only Stanhope.

"For a man who swears he shall never marry, you seem to have quite an interest in the Cursed Countess."

I never said that...wait, the what? he asked, moving his gaze back to Blakely. How had he never heard her called that? He hadn’t been very active in Society for the past year or two, but surely he should have been aware of that aspect of her reputation.

Blakely gave him a smug smile. That is what some of the gossipmongers call her.

Jack shook his head. Fairchild had not given him enough information on this investigation. Then again, Fairchild wasn’t privy to the rumors of good Society. Jack was the only person in Fairchild’s employ who could walk into the ballroom or salon of anyone in the ton, which was the reason Fairchild had hired him. So, how did Langley die?

In bed with his mistress.

Pity, that. Jack smothered a chuckle. A bride forty years his junior and a mistress. Little wonder he died.

Indeed, Blakely said also trying not to laugh. Apparently, his heart gave out, though rumor quickly spread that poison might have been involved due to his pallor and something about some stomach issues.

Jack felt a quick pang of sympathy for the young woman marked by her husband’s death in the bed of another, but his compassion lasted only a moment. Wasn’t there a coroners’ investigation?

Yes, and they found nothing of substance. No arsenic in the house.

Of course, they would not find anything. Any intelligent person would know to get rid of the poison as soon as the deed was done. He eyed her speaking to the Duke of Worthington with her sister. He hoped she wasn’t planning the duke to be her next mark. And the second husband?

Yes, Viscount Dereham.

So she moved up to a viscount this time?

Yes, and an earl the next, Blakely said with a touch of scorn lining his voice. But her second marriage lasted exactly one month. The man died on the anniversary of their marriage.

A carriage accident, right? He vaguely remembered hearing some gossip about this well over two years ago.

On his way home from his mistress, Blakely added.

The poor girl can’t seem to keep her husbands at home.

Exactly, Blakely responded.

So why would an accident be blamed on the lady?

Blakely sipped his wine before saying, Again, there was speculation that he had been poisoned and then lost control of his cabriolet on his way home.

What type of fool drives an open carriage to his mistress’s home? That is what a closed carriage with a driver is for, so no one sees him. No doubt, the woman had married two fools. Was the mistress questioned?

Yes, but she loved the man and was more upset than his wife. Also, he gave the mistress an excellent lifestyle that she would be unable to maintain if he died.

Jealousy motivated many people to criminal behavior. If both her husbands had kept mistresses, she had a motive. More so if she needed or wanted money.

Glancing over at the countess as she sipped a glass of wine, looking slightly pallid, he wondered what would cause a man to marry a woman like her but still keep a mistress. Perhaps she had a tongue like a wasp or the brain of a child. But she was indeed a beautiful woman. Her thick auburn hair was swept up on her head, exposing her long slender neck, heart shaped face and delicate features. From here, he could not tell her eye color but he’d wager they were green or blue. His perusal moved down over her full breasts pushed up against the green silk gown, farther down over a slim waist and flared hips. She was more exquisite than he had expected. He let out a long breath as he stared across the room at her.

He almost felt a touch of pity for the woman, but after all he’d seen in Fairchild’s employ, Jack understood that a seed of truth usually started the gossip. While he knew exactly what had happened after reading the file from Fairchild, he still asked, hoping his friend might have a bit more insight. What happened with her third husband? Another mistress?

Not this time. His valet found Stanhope dead in his own bed a week after the wedding. From all accounts, he loved her immensely. So much so that he changed his will a week before they were wed, leaving her a fortune and the London town home, while his son received a healthy inheritance and the entailed properties. However, Stanhope’s son has been rather insistent that his stepmother received far too much money.

It was the current Earl of Stanhope who had hired Fairchild to investigate his father’s death. Lord Stanhope was convinced that his stepmother murdered his father to gain the money from the will. How did she make out with her other husband’s deaths?

Blakely shook his head slowly. I should have known why you were asking so many questions, Raynerson.

Jack frowned as he looked over at his friend. What are you blabbering about, Blakely?

Why didn’t you just ask what she was worth?

Jack clenched his fingers around the snifter of brandy he’d been nursing. The idea that his friend thought his only interest in Lady Stanhope was for her fortune angered him deeply. His shook off his irritation. Actually, Blakely wasn’t too far off, as Jack’s interest was purely on the money Fairchild would pay him to discover the truth. I am not interested in her fortune.

Only her guilt or innocence.

I hope not, Blakely said before sipping his brandy. I should hate to see you succumb to the curse.

Jack had no intention of becoming Lady Stanhope’s next victim. But he would need to get close to her in order to discover the truth. Somehow, he would have to get into her house to investigate her thoroughly. He could only assume she must have poisoned her husbands by a slow method so as not to draw too much notice. Stanhope, however, only lasted a week. Perhaps her patience had worn thin by the time she married him.

Gazing over at the young woman, he smiled slowly. He would have no issue getting closer to her. Nevertheless, he should have a care with eating or drinking in her company so he wouldn’t become her next victim. But whatever it took to get to the truth, he would do it.

Even if it meant taking her to his bed...or hers.

CHAPTER 2

Tessa’s entire body shook when the majordomo announced her name before the crowded ballroom. Louisa squeezed her hand in support but all Tessa wanted to do was run out of this house and back to her home alone.

How did I let you convince me to come? she whispered to Louisa.

You could not have missed Emma’s come out ball.

I am supposed to be in mourning.

Louisa rolled her eyes as they walked away from the threshold of the ballroom. For a man you did not love? That is mad. You mourned him for nine months.

Looking down at her gown, Tessa thought that perhaps the emerald silk wasn’t her sister’s best idea. Sticking with black or gray would have been far more correct in the eyes of the ton. I should never have agreed to this gown.

Her sister grabbed her arm and moved them both toward a corner of the room. Three times I have watched you play the perfect widow, mourning men you never loved. It doesn’t matter what these people say.

But Louisa, it’s green. I should have worn gray.

No, Louisa hissed. You are a beautiful young woman. You should be wearing emerald and flaunting convention.

Like you would, Tessa muttered.

Exactly!

How her sister had not ended up in some scandal still astonished Tessa. But Louisa would never understand. People didn’t notice Louisa as they did her. From the time she’d entered Society, women had criticized her for being too beautiful. As if that was her fault. She hated her appearance. Women disparaged her in order to feel better about themselves, while the men only wanted her on their arms to show her off like a trophy they had won.

But tonight was far worse than the balls she’d attended after her previous husbands’ deaths. From the time the majordomo announced her name, she felt the scornful gaze of most people in the room upon her. If she attempted to make eye contact with anyone, they shifted their gaze and whispered to the person next to them.

Come along, Tessa, Louisa said as she led her into the white and pink ballroom. You’re fretting. Remember we agreed you would enjoy yourself tonight. Stop worrying over what others think of you.

They are all gossiping about me.

You cannot know that is what they are speaking of. Besides, you are a wealthy widow and can do as you please. This is the start of a new life for you. Hang the people who want to gossip. You can flirt with any man you wish and maybe even make one an offer he cannot refuse. Louisa giggled softly.

Louisa!

You have only been with men twice or more your age. Think about what it would be like to have a young, virile man in your bed for a change. Hard muscles. Smooth skin. Hard—

Louisa, not another word about hard things. What had gotten into her younger sister? It was time Louisa found a husband before she did something foolish.

You are a prude, Tessa. Look, Louisa said pointing across the room, there is the duke. We must go, say hello and thank him for allowing Mamma to have Emma’s ball here.

Tessa held her head high and linked her arm with Louisa as they moved away from the entrance. She would show them that their whispers meant nothing to her.

At least the duke was a friendly sight. His smile broadened as they approached while Tessa felt a frown tug at her mouth. It had only been a few months since she’d seen him but he had aged in that time. His hair was now more white than brown and there were tired lines around his brown eyes that hadn’t been there the last time she’d spoken with him. He looked dreadfully pallid, almost like her first two husbands. She wondered if he’d taken ill while in the country.

Your Grace, she said with a deep curtsy.

Lady Stanhope, I am so pleased to see you here tonight. I worried you would not make an appearance, but Miss Drake assured me she could influence you to attend.

She flashed a smirk at her sister. Influence? Guilt drove her appearance here, as Louisa knew it would. Her sister only shrugged and smiled.

Thank you, Your Grace. You are correct. Louisa convinced me that I could never miss Emma’s ball.

I am pleased she persuaded you. He squeezed her hand. And even more pleased that you decided not to wear your mourning rags. You look beautiful tonight, my dear. The duke glanced over at Louisa and cleared his throat. As do you, Miss Drake.

Louisa smiled. Thank you, Your Grace.

Turning his attention back to Tessa, he said, I do hope we shall have the chance to talk later. I have missed our conversations, my dear.

As have I, Your Grace. Tessa glanced about the room. Have my mother and sister arrived yet?

They are both upstairs waiting for the appropriate time to make their grand appearance, he said with a kind smile.

Thank you for allowing Mamma to have the ball here. She took a fleeting look around at all the people in the room. This crush would never have fit in her home.

I was happy to help out. With Harry still in India, it is nice to have people fill this big place.

How is Ha—Lord Langport? Louisa interjected. He has been away for ages.

Very well, I suppose. He has decided to sell the estate and return home. He leaned closer. He wrote that he has news he can only share in person. I fear he may return with one of those heathen women. Lord help us if that happens.

Tessa pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. I am certain he shall do the right thing.

I do hope so. His attention turned to a couple entering the ballroom. You must go and enjoy yourself, my dear. You too, Miss Drake, he added as if an afterthought.

Thank you, Your Grace. While Tessa doubted she would enjoy herself tonight, at least she had made an appearance for Emma’s sake.

Louisa, she whispered as they walked away, have you heard anything about the duke being ill?

I heard he was quite ill this winter with some stomach issues. He looks much older than in August when I saw him last. Perhaps his health is the reason Harry is returning from India.

I do hope there is nothing seriously wrong with him. He is such a kind man. His symptoms reminded her again of her late husbands. All three had become quite pale and complained of stomach issues and headaches before they passed away.

Louisa nodded. I shall get us both a glass of wine before Mamma comes down and scolds me for drinking in public. Why don’t you pick out a man to seduce while I’m gone?

Louisa!

As soon as her sister departed, Tessa felt as if everyone was staring at her again. She examined the room to find no one in particular gawking at her, save one. One lone man stood against the back wall with his arms crossed over his wide chest and Tessa could swear he was looking straight at her. She had no idea who the man was or why he would take an interest in her. Most likely, he had heard the gossip regarding her and found it fascinating, though why she couldn’t imagine.

The man appeared to be exactly what her sister believed Tessa needed. Even leaning against the wall, she could tell he was taller than most of the men in the room. He had wide shoulders and a strong build. What had Louisa said...? Virile. The man exuded virility from across the room. But she had caused enough gossip over the past five years. Having an affair with a man would only make it worse.

Trying to ignore the man’s steely stare, she circled the floor, taking in all the beautiful gowns. She smiled at a few people she knew, only to have them give her the cut direct. Apparently, she was a persona non-grata amongst the ton now. At least, Louisa and Emma still seemed to be well received. Perhaps she should leave soon so her reputation didn’t affect them. But as she watched the first of the dancers approach the floor, a soft sigh escaped her lips. She had missed dancing, and now that the waltz was becoming more popular, she wanted to dance it again.

She watched as Lord Blakely escorted Louisa to the dance floor. Louisa’s cheeks reddened as he whispered something to her. Tessa smiled and prayed Louisa would find a man to love this season before she was considered completely on the shelf.

Not for the first time, Tessa wondered if she would ever fall in love. Or was there no point if she truly was cursed? Three husbands in five years would make any man hesitate. She speculated again if she should take a lover, as her sister suggested. Many widows did. He would have to be very discreet. And she would have to be careful not to get with child. It wasn’t all that unusual for a widow to take a lover if she was circumspect. All her husbands had been quite a bit older than she and it might be interesting to see if making love was better with a younger man. Stanhope had tried very hard to please her in bed. While she’d always thought he might have managed to succeed, he died before proving himself in the bedroom. Glancing around the room, she doubted that any man would dare dance with