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THE COUNTESS'S RETURN
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THE SALISBURY HOUSE in Grovesnor Square was unbearably lonely. All the life had been sucked out of it when her mother had passed and when her father had followed the Countess into the afterlife, there was no reason to go anywhere else.
All the pressure had fallen onto Lizzie, who spent most of her time in her room dealing with the books and writing when all else had failed. She'd become a recluse, some saying she was mad. That she talked to herself.
No one wanted to associate with the Mad Countess of Salisbury, let alone try and court her. No title was worth that much to the ton. Lizzie had given them no reason to doubt it, leaning into that perception of her.
It was her way of coping she supposed. Talking to Death and writing down the conversations they had. Sometimes she would ask about her mother, other times her father.
But she always asked the same question regardless of how much time she and Death spent together.
"When are you coming for me?"
And always Death replied, "Not for a long time."
Her heart sank at his reply and she went back to writing and wasting her days away, giving the servants something to talk about. She could afford to keep them all on obviously, considering their books were quite well-kept. So she let them have their freedoms while she wasted away in her white cotton dress and dark curled locks, her ink-stained hands the only company she'd had for a long time.
She vaguely recalled a time when there had been others. Renee Baldwin with her long blonde hair and soft kisses, pressing themselves against her neck, and then her collarbone, and finally between her thighs, right where Lizzie wanted it. There will still times when her stomach flopped at the thought of the young woman, now Baroness Everton and happily married.
They'd grown up together, been brought into society together. Their mothers practically sisters.
But those innocent moments in the garden turned into hidden kisses in the library which turned into their bodies pressed against each other in a moment in unholy fervor. But there was little Lizzie could do to stop herself from feeling the way she did.
If Mrs. Baldwin wouldn't have caught them a month ago, Lizzie was certain Renee would have run away with her.
Escaping to the Salisbury countryside to live out the rest of their days as fallen angels.
And Renee was so much like an angel. Blonde waves framing her naked face, bright emerald eyes peeking through long lashes that begged to be kissed. The two of them had always been the talk of the ton whenever they'd appeared in London. Their last two seasons causing quite a stir.
Now it was Lizzie's third season and she was doing it alone. She placed the edge of her pen in her mouth, chewing on it the way she usually did when she got nervous or lost in thought. The paper was blank before her, all of her previous ideas melting away the moment Baron Everton slid that wedding band on her best friend's finger and whisked her away to never be seen again.
"Lady Aldridge?" Her shy lady's maid, Sybil, poked her head through the door, wide blue eyes and skinny frame making her look smaller than she already was, "Lawrence wants me to inform you that the Duchess of Perth has arrived with her son."
Letting out a soft sigh of frustration, Lizzie blew a dark curl out of her eyes and set down her pen, leaning down to pick up the fat grey tabby cat that had taken almost permanent residence at her feet throughout the day.
"Come on Tala," She cooed, scratching its fat belly, "Let's go see Auntie Cora."
The tabby curled up in her arms and purred, which Lizzie took as a good sign to finally step out of her room for the first time in a long time. The walls were still the same beautiful white and gold that designated her status and the grand marble staircase remained perfectly pristine. The heavy bronze doors swung open and a small black lab puppy came tumbling down the stairs at the sound, Percy landing in a lump at her feet.
Lizzie chuckled to herself and bent down to pet the newly acquired member of the household, a gift from Renee's sister for her birthday not that long ago. Tala jumped out of her arms and landed on her feet, letting out a jealous scream as Lizzie picked up the wiggly puppy, double checking to make sure the dog hadn't injured himself too badly. Percy's tail wagged back and forth, his goofy smile staring at her as the fat pink tongue hang out.
"You silly boy," She chided, placing him back on the ground, where he promptly barked and ran after Tala, who teased him with a flick of her tail. A giggle slipped past Lizzie's lips and she turned toward her visitors, well-aware her appearance wasn't suitable enough to welcome a Duchess into her home. But this was her Aunt Cora. The woman who'd been there for her when nobody else had.
"Lizzie!" Cora exclaimed, quickly pulling her niece into a hug, squeezing tightly. "Oh it is good to see you again. Are you faring well?"
Lizzie shrugged, "As well as I can be," She knew why her Aunt was here, it wasn't difficult to guess, with her wild black curls laced up in a beautiful chiffon, the typical attire for wealthy women in London adorning her curvy frame. Cora sent her a pitiful smile and brushed a curl behind her ears, Lizzie leaning into the touch for a moment.
It had been so long since she'd allowed herself to be touched by anyone but herself. Warmth flooded her stomach, cheek stinging from the cold when Cora's hand moved.
"Ah, Jonathan!" The Duchess called, ushering toward the other member of her party, a man just a little bit taller than she was, bearing the dark curls and blue eyes of his mother. He placed his hands behind his back, smiling widely as he joined Cora in the foyer, "I'm sure you remember cousin Elizabeth?"
Jonathan stuck his hand out, smile growing wider, "It's a pleasure to meet you again Cousin Elizabeth, I believe the last time we met I was only in diapers."
Lizzie forced a chuckle, "As was I, Your Grace,"
"Oh please," Jonathan laughed the title off, "No titles. The formalities here are so...formal."
This time the chuckle was real, and Lizzie hated herself for enjoying the presence of her cousin. It was a betrayal. That the first person to make her laugh since Renee was a man. It didn't feel right.
She shouldn't be laughing. She should be mourning.
But her cousin sounded so out of his depth, so...normal, she couldn't help it.
A moment of awkward silence passed over the three of them and Lizzie suddenly realized that she was supposed to escort them to their rooms.
"Lawrence!" She called out, turning toward the elderly butler, "Please escort the Duchess Perth and Lord Buchanan to their bedchambers."
The man bowed respectfully, "Of course, Your Ladyship."
"And Sybil?" She turned toward the young maid, who looked absolutely floored at being called out, "Please set out my dress for the palace." The girl nodded, quickly rushing up the staircase and Lizzie let out a sigh, "I have to make a fool of myself in front of the Queen yet again."
The housekeeper smirked at her words and leaned in, "You could never look a fool, Your Ladyship."
Her lips twitched upward at the compliment, "That is sweet of you to say Mrs. Downing, but we both know that isn't true."
Turning on her heel, Lizzie trapsied up the stairs, unable to hide the sinking feeling in her stomach that this season would be far worse than the last. Renee wasn't here, Papa and Mama weren't here, and she had to present herself again.
She was practically a spinster, but her Aunt refused to let her give up. She'd always said that it was never too late to find a husband, and considering Cora married a Duke at age twenty-five, Lizzie supposed she did have a point.
But she didn't want it.
Although Lizzie supposed that what she wanted became irrelevant a long time ago.
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DEAREST READER,
It appears the lone halls of Aldridge House have finally been visited by someone other than the ghost of Countess Salisbury herself. A Lady Cora Buchanan, Duchess of Perth was seen leaving the house with none other than Countess Elizabeth Aldridge, an unnamed man with beautiful dark curls trailing behind them.
Lady Aldridge, whose father tragically died in the fall, has not been seen since her fateful return from Wiltshire a month ago. Some have called her mad, others claiming she was still observing the mourning period, but here she is now, gracing the ton with her presence once again.
Although now that Baroness Everton is no longer by her side and Lady Aldridge is now a Countess in her own right, perhaps we will finally see the beautiful woman snatched up. For three seasons without a proper proposal or marriage is unheard of. I'd say if Lady Elizabeth wants to avoid being left on the shelf, she should find someone who does not know of the reputation she had built for herself. After all, four seasons alone is enough time to consider one an ineligible, dreaded, spinster.
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"LADY ELIZABETH ALDRIDGE! Countess of Salisbury, presented by The Right Honorable Duchess of Perth!"
Lizzie sucked in a breath as the doors flew open, exposing the gorgeous new wing of the half finished Buckingham House.
There, on the throne, Queen Charlotte awaited, and Lizzie forced herself to keep her eyes front, not allowing herself to feel any fear. She was a peeress, a woman with a title and lands, a feat which hadn't been seen since the Plantagenets. She was practically royalty herself. She would not cower before the Queen.
Not like the rest of them.
Her gaze scanned the room for any familiar faces, only finding the comforting smirk of Lady Danbury and the familiar brown heads of hair that the Bridgertons wore. Daphne Bridgerton had been presented just moments before her, the poor girl practically sweating in her debut dress.
Lizzie's train dragged behind her, reminiscent of the bride she was to be at the end of this season. Of the bride she would have been if she hadn't been found out. Of the bride her father was supposed to escort down the aisle.
Something he would never do and she would never experience.
A flash of black velvet entered her vision, standing behind the Queen with his dark cane, long ringlets framing his face as he pushed his glasses further down his nose.
What was He doing here?
Did He have to appear at the worst times?
Her curtsy was deep and perfect, back straight as she swept her gaze to the marble floors, the heavy painted eyelashes her only protection against the scathing stares of the Queen and the lingering ghost behind her.
"Countess Salisbury," Queen Charlotte's voice was deep, stern, ruthless. It was like silk, weaving its way through the minds of the court, tightening her grip on all of them, Lizzie included. "This is to be your fourth season yes?"
Lizzie kept her gaze on the ground, knowing proper protocol and trying hard not to look at the man behind the throne, "Third, Your Majesty."
The Queen's glove found her chin and matching brown hues met each other. The woman's eyebrow arched itself, as if Lizzie had affronted her by correcting the number of years she'd been out. But, there seemed to be a bit of mirth behind her gaze, Lizzie noticed. The black velvet behind the throne had disappeared, just like He always did.
The whole court sucked in their breath, waiting for the next shoe to drop.
"I look forward to it."
The Queen smiled and Lizzie couldn't help but smirk, the two women bursting into soft chuckles as the Queen returned to her rightful place on the throne. Aunt Cora gave Lizzie an affirming nod as they exited through the same grand doors that had announced their entrance.
When she could finally breathe normally again, Lizzie began to entertain herself with the musings of Lady Whistledown. Apparently she had taken residence during Lizzie's self-imposed seclusion, using her knowledge of the season and the debutantes to create her own scandal sheet, discussing the current prospects of each lady.
It was quite entertaining, and even Lizzie could not fault the woman for sharing her sordid reputation as the mad, grief-stricken Countess among the new members of the ton. It wasn't that she didn't want to marry, in fact she quite wished to have what her parents had one day, but Lizzie knew she wasn't ready for such a responsibility.
She could barely manage a household by herself and take care of her mental state. Not to mention the hallucinations of Death that seemed to follow her wherever she went.
Until she sorted out that mess, tying herself down to someone permanently was off the table. There was no guarantee her husband wouldn't lock her up in the attic just to be rid of her.
Besides, Lizzie picked at her skirts, (the same white cotton she'd worn earlier that day) there was still someone her heart belonged to. She couldn't give them up that easily.
No one could.
Tala was nestled between the crook of her elbow, purring everytime Lizzie ran her fingers through her soft fur. Her other furry friend lay below the window seat, ever the guard dog, his tail thumping against the wall in a rhythmic pattern.
As she continued to tear through the pages of the gossip sheet, Lizzie was shocked to find no mention of her affair in the papers themselves, other than her long-time friendship with Renee.
Perhaps this Whistledown is not as all-knowing as many believe, she pondered.
Although, most of the scandal had occurred in the country. It would be almost impossible for rumors there to spread here.
Almost was the key word in that sentence.
She sighed.
If nothing else, Daphne Bridgerton had been named the season's incomparable. Lizzie supposed she had to be happy for the girl. Such publicity would gain her many suitors, and she'd be sure to make a fine match for herself and her family.
Lizzie leaned against the window of the enormous library of their city house, closing her eyes and relishing in the sensation of the sunlight against her skin. For a brief moment her mind wandered to soft kisses and hidden giggles in this exact spot at this exact time, her father off managing his own duties.
She recalled the soft lips against her own, the way they pepped down her arm, her thighs, until they reached her core, their tongue knowing exactly where to go to make Elizabeth scream in delight, her moans echoing off the walls as everyone except the servants remained in ignorant bliss.
Those same moans escaped her mouth now, fingers wandering the same areas her lover's tongue had, pressing against the walls between her thighs until they found exactly what they were looking for, her moans growing louder, more frantic, wetness coating her index and middle finger as she pulled them out, teasing herself to the edge before letting herself climax, the sensation never growing old.
A smile spread across her face, beautiful green eyes staring her down in her dreams, the tension of the day melting away. Wetness continued to pool, but she didn't care. Her mind was preoccupied with the memory of blonde hair and sweetness in the air.
"Lady Elizabeth?"
The Countess shot up at the sound of Sybil's voice, scrambling to make herself presentable and using her handkerchief to try and clean up what had just occurred. "Yes?" She asked, grimacing inwardly as she realized she would have to find a new hankie before the ball tonight.
"Mrs. Downing wanted me to ask when you plan to change for tonight?" There was hint of mirth in the maid's voice. It made Lizzie's stomach flop over.
Although she quickly shut her eyes in frustration when she realized what time it was. Shit. Aunt Cora was going to kill her. "Tell Mrs. Downing that I shall be in my room within the hour." Lizzie looked around, trying to come up with a plausible excuse for all this, "Although I'd prefer if she leave the dressing to you."
Sybil chuckled and responded with a kind 'yes ma'am' before leaving the Countess to her own devices.
Fuck.
Ladies of the ton weren't supposed to know about such things. Not that her reputation mattered anymore. She was a Countess. Technically she could do what she wanted.
Lizzie let out a relieved sigh before turning her gaze toward the disgusting rag in her hand, bundling it up and tucking it in her pockets. "Sybil?" She called out, hoping the maid was still there. There was no response so she called out again, this time opening up the door, coming face to face with the housekeeper herself.
"Yes, Your Ladyship?" Mrs. Downing's kindly voice responded, something dancing behind her eyes. Lizzie felt her cheeks grow red.
"Uh, nothing too important Mrs. Downing, just..." She let out a disappointed sigh, turning around to see the mess she had made, "Please have one of the maids clean the cushions in the library, I think Percy got too comfortable on them again."
As if on cue, the mischievous puppy barked at the mention of his name, wagging his tail back and forth as he bounded off the couch, providing her with the perfect alibi. Not that Mrs. Downing was....unaware of her activities.
Tala quickly followed after the energetic pup, brushing her fur against the legs of her mistress, stretching from her nap.
Avoiding eye contact with the woman, Elizabeth picked up the tabby cat and rushed upstairs to her room to get ready for the Danbury ball, Percy not far behind her.