A Most Unconventional Courtship

‘No. Here, take the rope.’ Chance threw it, admiring the nonchalant, one-handed catch. The Count stooped to flip the rope around the metal stanchion protruding out of the sand and Chance vaulted over the side into the few inches of water. ‘You look fit to repel pirates with that sword.’

‘This? This is merely a thika, a knife. This is not a sword.’ He turned and began to walk companionably back up the beach at Chance’s shoulder. ‘I have come out to escape the young ladies; I do not feel capable of managing them all by myself.’

‘You amaze me, Voltar.’ It seemed odd to be using first names, but the Count appeared to expect it. ‘Surely a man of your address should have no trouble with three young ladies.’

‘But I do not want three,’ the Albanian said plaintively. ‘I only want one.’

Ah. That explained it, although Chance was not anxious to find himself in the position of distracting two susceptible damsels while the Count carried out his courtship of the chosen one. ‘Which is the lady with whom you wish to…dally?’

‘Oh, any of them would do.’ He seemed impervious to Chance’s stare. ‘They are all handsome, all well bred and all, no doubt, well monied. Is that the word?’

‘Well dowered?’ Chance suggested, fascinated by this cold-bloodied approach.

‘Yes, that is it. A wife would be desirable at this stage of my affairs. Mistresses I have, many of them, and children, but legitimate sons I do not have. A man has to think of these things.’

‘Indeed, yes.’ Chance was beginning to think of little else but marriage and heirs. Or, if he was to be honest, the getting of heirs with Alessa. ‘But an English wife for an Albanian Count?’

‘The English have much power now in these seas. It would be a good—what is the word?—tactic.’

They reached the roughly cobbled street. Chance kicked the worst of the sand off his feet and pushed them into the shoes he had carried off the boat. Just how powerful in his own country was Zagrede? He seemed to be thinking like a princeling, not a minor aristocrat. And yet, he mastered his own ships, which argued more the merchant than the prince.

‘Well, you tell me which one your fancy alights upon,’ he said with good humour. ‘I’ll do my best to flirt with the other two.’ Just so long as that does not involve getting on the wrong side of Lady Blackstone.

There was no sigh of any of the other guests as they regained the villa. Chance climbed the gleaming chestnut wood stairs to his rooms and threw himself with gratitude into the waiting bath of cool water that Alfred had standing ready. He waved aside the valet’s suggestion that ‘my lord might wish to have his back scrubbed’ and slid down until his head was submerged, surfacing only when his breath ran out. He lay back against the high curve of the tub while the salt sluiced from his skin.

How did Alessa wash in that little cottage? No deep marble bathtub for her. No respectful servants tapping on the door to offer steaming jugs of fresh water, no heap of soft linen towels. The image of her standing naked at a wash stand had its inevitable effect and he grabbed the long-handled brush and scrubbed his back mercilessly as a distraction while he rehearsed his tactics for approaching Lady Blackstone. ‘In-directly,’ he murmured, ‘that’s the way.’

Later, as the house party gathered on the terrace overlooking the bay before dinner, he found himself beside his hostess. Lady Trevick was fanning herself while keeping a wary eye on the Count’s flirtation with the young ladies.

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p; ‘A charming gentleman,’ Chance observed.

‘Yes. Yes, certainly. Perhaps a little too charming.’ Lady Trevick frowned as both her daughters succumbed to blushing giggles at some sally.

‘But then, who can blame him, surrounded by such delightful young ladies? Has Lady Blackstone made any progress with her search for her family connection on Corfu?’ Lady Trevick glanced at him and he added smoothly, ‘You mentioned it the other night.’ She had hardly alluded to it, in fact, but now, with any luck, she would imagine he knew far more than he did.

‘I believe not.’ She glanced round, lowering her voice. ‘A tragic case, I understand—her younger brother, estranged from the family, an unsuitable match and, I very much fear, a child of the union adrift somewhere in the Mediterranean.’

‘Frightful! I presume Lady Blackstone has only just become aware of the child’s existence?’

‘Ye…es.’ Lady Trevick looked a little doubtful. ‘That must be the case, I am sure.’ She brightened. ‘Lady Blackstone has been discussing it with my brother’s secretary, Mr Harrison.’

‘Indeed.’

Lady Blackstone came out on to the terrace, sized up the little group around the Count at a glance and skilfully cut her daughter out of it, steering her towards Chance and their hostess.

‘If you will excuse me…’ Lady Trevick cast a slightly hunted look at her own daughters ‘…I must go and have a word with the butler. Perhaps you will keep an eye on the girls, Lady Blackstone?’

Miss Blackstone drifted a little apart to turn her back on the terrace and affect an interest in the view. Perfect. He was alone with his quarry.

‘I do hope you will pardon a personal observation, ma’am, but what very striking and lovely eyes Miss Blackstone has. It is quite obvious that she has them from her mama.’

The older woman inclined her head graciously, a smug smile tugging at her lips. ‘You are most kind, my lord. Of course, Frances is much admired, but I have to admit that I, in my youth, was complimented upon those features.’

‘A family characteristic, I collect?’ Chance managed a puzzled frown. ‘Which makes it very odd, for I know of another young lady on the island with just such striking eyes and brows.’

‘You do? How extraordinary. Under what circumstances?’ Touché.