Chapter 3 #2
“And what does that mean?”
Nerissa folded her hands on the bow of the ship and looked out onto the waves. “It means that both I and my father have good positions here in society, and we are respected. You only set yourself up for failure, should you continue setting yourself up against my father.”
He was close, very close, and although they were not touching she could feel the heat of his presence.
“Nonsense,” was all he said before he turned away.
Nerissa felt her blood start to boil, and walked after him. “Nonsense? ‘Tis not nonsense, it is common sense that – do not walk away from me when I am talking to you!”
They had reached the stern now, and Count Anthony leaned back against the ship and laughed at her. It was a cold laugh, a bitter laugh, one that she had heard in the court room the day before and it had not left her mind.
“You were not talking to me,” he said, shaking his head and grinning. “You were lecturing me – and I have enough misery in my life without you adding to it.”
Nerissa stared at him, a twinge of sadness, or perhaps it was pity, twisting her stomach. But then she remembered his words, remembered what he had said about her father in the court room, remembered his determination to take her father’s earnings from him for a simple mistake.
“You have only brought misery on yourself,” she said coldly, avoiding his eye.
There was a moment of silence between them, the boat moving up and down more rapidly now that they had increased their speed. She did not want to look at him, felt afraid for some reason to meet his eye – and yet without doing so, she had no idea what he was thinking.
Her eyes glanced up. If she had hoped to read the expression on his face, then she was sorely mistaken. It was a strange mixture of emotions, so tangled that she could not undo the knot. Was he sad, angry, bitter, disappointed, relieved to see her?
His jaw clenched, and then he said softly, “Olivia.”
Nerissa blinked. “Miss Nerissa Fairchild. Are you feeling quite well?”
Count Anthony laughed shortly, and turned away from her to look out himself at the ocean. “My sister. My sister is Olivia, and without the Stratham fortune that had been promised to her by our parents before they died, she can no longer marry.”
Horror struck, Nerissa stared at him in complete silence as the meaning of those words echoed in her mind.
“Her dowry is completely gone,” said Count Anthony bitterly, looking down now at his hands in fierce frustration.
“Gone because her brother thought he was clever. Invest it, I thought. Double it within a year, so that when her engagement with Ainsworth was announced… That’s the Duke of Ainsworth, of course.
But that is all over now. Ainsworth announced his betrothal to our cousin, the Lady Anne Forsyth of Kennilborough, believe it or not. We never liked her.”
Nerissa found that her mouth had fallen open, her mind unable to comprehend what she had just heard. “He…he abandoned his engagement with your sister because…because of money?”
What she did not say was just how human Count Anthony seemed to become when he spoke about his sister. A stronger breeze cut across them and ruffled his hair, and for a moment he looked like anyone else; a sad, vulnerable man who loved his sister and had disappointed her.
But then Nerissa thought more about the situation, and she bristled. “Why could not the gentleman have loved her enough to marry without the dowry? What sort of a man is that?”
She saw Count Anthony’s eyes widen, and he looked over at her with mild surprise in his eyes.
“My dear Miss Fairchild,” he said, almost pityingly. “You have so much to learn. If I had the inclination, I could teach you.”
A thrill of something dark and delightful shot through Nerissa’s body, and she found herself unconsciously licking her lips.
“Teach me?” She whispered.
He turned towards her, and smiled. “Miss Fairchild, in my rank of society, money and nobility go hand in hand. One cannot have one without the other, you see, and when one is lost…”
His voice trailed off delicately, but Nerissa snorted.
“That is the aspect of London society that I miss the least, you know.” She laughed at his astonished expression.
“Yes, I did live in London, I have not always dwelt amongst the colonists here. And I can tell you, Anthony – for although I am no republican your title does you little service and gives no meaning here – that in Port Royal we have all had to shift for ourselves. When your town is never too far, it seems, from natural disasters, if a person has real value in their character then that is enough to recommend them. It is enough to fall in love with.”
“And it is enough for you to fall in love with?” Count Anthony murmured. His hand had somehow found hers, she was unsure when, because all she knew was that she did not want him to let go. There was something very reassuring, very secure about the feeling of her hand in his.
But then her eyes met his, and something in his grip changed. It felt like possession, like fire, like property, like lust and deception, and she shivered to look at him and yet did not want the feeling to end.
He coughed and dropped her hand. “‘Tis of no matter anyway,” he said gruffly, turning once more to look out to sea.
“I have lost my case, and at some point in the near future I will have to return home to Olivia, and tell her that we will need to sell the family home and find somewhere to end our days.”
Sighing deeply, his gaze did not wander from the horizon, but Nerissa rolled her eyes. Whatever this Count Anthony was, and she was still unsure whether she even liked him or not, he certainly did have a talent for the dramatic.
Looking out at the horizon herself, she drew her shawl more closely to her. She knew that sky. A storm was coming, and if she was very much mistaken, it would not be long before it arrived.
“And you, Miss Fairchild?”
She almost jumped at the sound of his words, he spoke so softly, and his head tilted towards her was full of an intensity she had never seen before.
“Me?” She managed.
“Have you found someone to love you, no matter your wealth?” His tone was almost nonchalant, but there was just a touch of interest to quicken her heart rate.
Was he in earnest? Was he genuinely interested in learning about her marital status; to enquire so was, surely, to understand whether she was spoken for, whether she had an understanding with another gentleman of the town.
Giddy with the thought that this handsome man – and a count, no matter his income – could in any way be interested in her, Nerissa spoke without thought.
“Oh, it does not signify really,” she said with a wicked smile. “I have enough wealth for that question not to even become an issue.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realised what she had said, and more importantly, to whom she had said it. Her cheeks crimsoned and her hands flew to her mouth in horror.
But the Count did not seem to be offended. To the contrary, Count Anthony burst into laughter and managed to say, “Well, yes – my wealth!”
“That is not what – I did not mean – it cannot exactly be…” Nerissa spluttered as rain droplets started to fall from heaven, but Count Anthony merely smiled at her and waved his hand.
“I know what you meant,” he said, almost kindly. He looked up at the sky. “Nay, my quarrel is not with you, Miss Fairchild. And besides, you should take cover as this storm comes in. I do not believe that we shall reach the shore before it hits us.”
Nerissa swallowed and looked around the small ship. It had not been designed for long distance travel, just short journeys around the bay for the paying public. There were not even any living quarters or cover to find.
His eyes had followed her, and the dawning realisation that they were trapped on a ship with no way to take cover and no protection from the elements, without the time to reach Port Royal, could be seen arriving on his face.
“Exactly,” murmured Nerissa quietly. “And what do we do now?”