A Companion for the Count: A Regency Romance

by Britton, Sally

  He leaned his forehead against the cool glass and offered a prayer—one of many, pleading for mercy shown to him for his foolishness, and asking that no matter the outcome of his circumstances, that Emma find happiness.

  A soft tap on the ballroom floor made Luca straighten, fixing his coat by pulling on its hem. A workman might have returned. Or perhaps Bruno had come searching him out.

  He turned, chin up and expression set to one of solemnity.

  The figure on the opposite side of the room didn’t belong to a man at all, but to a familiar woman. He knew her at once, dressed as she was in a deep green traveling gown with pink flowers wreathing her hat. She took another step, hesitant in the room lit only by the late-morning sun.

  “Luca?”

  He took one step toward Emma, and then another, and then he crossed the room with as much speed as he could. She met him halfway, her face turned up to his with roses in her cheeks. He extended his hands, and she placed hers in his without hesitation.

  No matter his misgivings, there was only one correct response to her sudden appearance.

  Luca drew her gently to him, hands clasping hers, and bent to kiss her. Emma met him halfway then, too. Her lips were soft as petals, her scent fresh as a spring rain, and it took everything in him not to wrap her in his arms and keep her there forevermore. When they parted, it was only for him to dip his head to kiss her anew, at a better angle than before, with a deeper token of his affection given.

  She sighed and leaned into him when he tried to move away, and what could he do but give in a third time?

  They had to part, though. Emma didn’t know the mess of things. She needed to know the precariousness of his position.

  “The duke had a letter,” she said, staring up at him with her gentle brown eyes. “Torlonia betrayed you.”

  For a moment, he stared at her in disbelief. Their first words to each other in over a month, he realized, were not what he would have expected. “Then you must know what that means for me. For us.”

  The gentleness turned into frustration. “Luca, I’m not going to give you up. Do not ask me to.”

  “How did you come to be here?” he asked, ignoring the unpleasantness for the moment. Touching her cheek with one hand. “I only received your letter three days ago.”

  “The day after I sent my letter to you, the duke received word from a contact in London. His Grace said you were in a difficult position, and I asked if we could come to offer you our support.” Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink. “I still cannot believe I asked such a thing of him. He’s the Duke of Montfort, for goodness’ sake.”

  “Your guardian,” Luca said quietly. “Who loves you, I think.”

  Her smile returned. “Yes, he does. I imagine my own father would have done the same for me. But you must see, Luca—with His Grace’s word added to yours, your king will understand. The duke has written to our king, lodged a formal inquiry with Parliament, written your court, and has invited you to dinner this evening.”

  The last of the list made Luca laugh. “This evening? Is the whole family with you?”

  Emma shook her head. “Only Simon and Josephine. And me. The rest will come after they have packed up the house for the Season. Luca, everything will turn out as it should. I know it.”

  She touched his cheek, her gloved thumb near his lips. Her eyes took in his. “I still have to help you find an English bride, you know.”

  Luca laughed and leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. “I think I have already found one. If she will have me.”

  “Englishwomen like to be courted properly before agreeing to marriage,” she said quietly.

  “Oh? And what constitutes a proper English courtship?” he asked, his lips hovering near hers again.

  “The usual things. Walks in the park. Morning calls. Dancing. Oh, and most importantly…pasta making.”

  His laugh barely escaped before she kissed him again.

  “I love you, Emma. I hope you have felt the truth of that now.”

  “My darling ambassador, I love you, too. With everything I am.”

  They left the ballroom to find the duke waiting in the entry hall, along with Simon and Josephine, Bruno standing quietly to one side. He must have brought them to the embassy to find Luca.

  “Your Grace.” Luca greeted the duke with a formal bow. “I would like to request permission to court your ward, Miss Emma Arlen.”

  The duke turned his attention to Emma. “I will approve the courtship, Lord Atella, though I will be honest with you. Emma has ever been her own woman. It will be her decision if she keeps you or not.”

  Emma looped her arm through Luca’s and leaned her head against his shoulder, the open display of affection rather perfect. “I very much expect to keep him, Your Grace.”

  They did not leave the embassy until Luca gave them a tour, the duke offering suggestions for security as well as where to find the best-trained staff. Everyone acted as though Luca’s position was assured, and for the first time in weeks, he felt hope that they were right.

  “You ought to move forward with all your plans, Atella,” Lord Farleigh said when they stood once more in the empty ballroom. “Hold a ball. Act as though you intend to be here a very long time. I think a statement like that would go a long way to showing both the English court and King Ferdinand’s that you are the right man for the position.”

  Luca listened, then gave a slow nod. “That is sound advice. I must consult with my chief advisor, though.” He looked down at Emma, who watched him with one raised eyebrow. “What do you think, chief advisor?”

  The smile that lit her face and beamed at him through her eyes enlivened him, heart and soul. “I think you ought to listen to Simon. He has a good head for politics. Nearly as good as mine.”

  They all laughed together, and Luca felt himself drawn into the family. They loved Emma, and by extension, they cared for him, too. With the Duke of Montfort and his family supporting Luca, his time as an ambassador would prove long and fruitful. He had to have faith in that.

  With Emma on his arm, Luca could hope for the best, and expect it, too.

  * * *

  Two months after her arrival in London, Emma entered the ballroom at the embassy. This time, it blazed with light from several chandeliers hanging above, their crystals throwing the light even farther. The whole room glowed with warmth and life, with couples dancing and members of parliament standing along the walls with their families and friends.

  Luca escorted her, with Emma tucked close to his side. “This is stunning, Luca,” she whispered so only he could hear. “It is magnificent.”

  Her handsome Italian chuckled and bent to murmur in her ear. “You only say that because I followed every single one of your suggestions for the evening.”

  Emma wrinkled her nose at him. “You ought to have asked a married woman to be your hostess, you know. That is how it is done.”

  “But not how I will do things. You are the only woman who will ever plan a ball, or a social, or a picnic, in this embassy. Or any of my houses, for that matter.” He took her hand and led her to the ballroom floor.

  Tonight they would announce their engagement, turning the ball into a celebration of love rather than a political gathering. She couldn’t ask for anything more wonderful.

  They took the lead position and other couples joined, the foremost among them Lady Josephine on the arm of some young lordling who did not have any chance of claiming a second.

  “Do you think anyone will mind that we are going back to the castle to be married?” Luca asked as the music began.

  “I don’t care,” Emma responded. “I have dedicated my life to you and your role in everything but this.”

  The way he smiled at her, broad and happy, free of worry, made her wish they were alone instead of at the center of a ballroom.

  Spring couldn’t come soon enough.

  Epilogue

  The first blooms of spring always appeared in the duchess’s Japane
se garden. The magnolia tree adorned itself in flowers of pink and white, wreathed more gloriously than any lady at court. Emma had invited only a few others to join the family there for a picnic the day before her wedding.

  She sat next to Luca beneath her favorite tree, leaning against him while their friends surrounded them. Mr. and Mrs. Rupert Gardiner sat together, he examining the drawing she had sketched of a fallen bloom. The duke and duchess sat a little further away, and the dowager near them in a chair brought out at her demand.

  Rosalind and Isabelle were chattering about the wedding and which flowers Emma ought to wear in her hair. “I still think roses would be prettier than wisteria,” Rosalind said. “I shall have roses when I wed.”

  “Of course you would, but I want wisteria,” Isabelle said. “And Emma will have the magnolia blossoms.”

  James played with his new dog, a little pup meant to live in the kennels, but the animal somehow ended up in the boy’s room more nights than not.

  And Josie sat on Emma’s other side, under strict instructions to avoid bickering with Andrew.

  “I want you both to get along for a day or two, as a wedding present,” Emma had asked a mere hour before the picnic.

  “That is a horrid present. Let me give you a better one. I have ordered the entire collection of Arabian Nights for your new library. Even the books my father said we had no business reading.”

  Emma had been hard-pressed to remain firm in the face of such a thoughtful gift. But she had managed. “That’s lovely, and I thank you for it. But still. No bickering.”

  Luca’s arm stole around Emma, and he leaned back against the trunk of the magnolia tree. “Sono in paradiso, amore mio.”

  Even being under the dowager’s watchful eye couldn’t keep Emma from snuggling closer to him. “It is rather heavenly, isn’t it?” She released a contented sigh. “Even still, I look forward to tomorrow. When I become Lady Atella. I so wish your family could have come.”

  “We will go to them soon enough.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Perhaps this summer, when the fields are green, and then my mother will cook for you.”

  Alice gasped suddenly, making everyone look at her. Though she was not what one would call large yet, the slight protrusion of her stomach well communicated that they would add a little one to their nursery that summer. Expectant women suddenly gasping would make anyone nervous, Emma decided.

  The entomologist’s wife took off her spectacles. “I nearly forgot. I have a gift for you both.” She pointed to the basket near her husband. “Rupert, if you would?”

  He took out a rolled sheet of cream-colored paper, tied by a pink ribbon. He reached across the blanket and handed it to Luca. Luca leaned back against the tree while Emma sat forward to untie the ribbon. He unrolled the paper to reveal a sketch of her, in repose, staring dreamily away from the viewer.

  “Bellissimo,” Luca murmured. “It captures Emma perfectly. When did you draw this, Mrs. Gardiner? I feel I have seen it before.”

  “You really must call me Alice,” she said with a dismissive wave. “That was on the day of the boat race when Emma seemed terribly out of sorts. Except, of course, when she spoke of you.”

  Emma’s cheeks warmed, and she stared at the picture a little closer. “Perhaps I was already falling in love, even then.”

  “Were you?” Luca asked, masculine pride deepening his voice. “Thank you, Alice. We will frame it and hang it in our personal quarters at the embassy.”

  “Yes. Thank you.” Emma watched her soon-to-be husband roll the paper up carefully, and she tied the bow back in place.

  Tomorrow, her life would begin anew. No more longing for adventure or waiting for change. With Luca, Emma would see the world, and learn everything about it she could. Someday, they would teach their children to approach new things with curiosity and a sense of adventure.

  Emma was quite certain the next day would be only the beginning of her happily ever after.

  * * *

  Sir Andrew, though a mere baronet, had been part of the duke’s family in practice if not in reality for most of his life. Watching his cousin nestle happily against her chosen gentleman, and surrounded by people who had known him since infancy ought to have been a peaceful situation.

  Instead, he kept shifting his weight. First he leaned back against his hands, then crouched forward; he tried kneeling as well as sitting with legs crossed. But he was too unsettled to remain still for more than a few moments.

  When Lady Josephine caught him squirming like a youth in church, she gave him a withering glare. He fully expected a tart remark to follow, but instead she heaved a put-upon sigh and smiled at him. “Would you like to walk with me a moment, Andrew?”

  Sensing a trap, he agreed anyway. If he had to sit and watch his cousin exchange doe-eyed glances with her betrothed, he might well say something that would earn him a set down. Not that he begrudged Emma any happiness. But he hated the change.

  They strolled away from the group at a leisurely pace, the two of them silent for a number of steps. Andrew watched Josephine from the corner of his eye, noting the way her expression changed with her thoughts.

  “You have been remarkably quiet today,” he noted.

  Josie shrugged one shoulder. “Emma said not to enter any battles with you today.”

  He chuckled. “So we are incapable of having a conversation without argument? That makes us seem like spoiled children.”

  Her lips twitched. “Precisely what I was thinking. It is rather awful of us, isn’t it? Can we not agree on anything?”

  “I am certain we agree on many things. I just like to torment you by offering counterpoints.” He grinned broadly when she glared at him. “But if my cousin has decreed no arguments today, we had better adhere to her wishes.”

  With a regal nod, Josie faced forward again and tucked her hands behind her back. “I will miss her terribly when she leaves with him, though I am happy for her. Emma has been with me as long as I can remember.”

  “You two were rather like twins all those years ago.” Only five years Emma’s senior, Andrew could well remember the early years when his cousin had first come to be with the duke’s family. “Whatever will you do with yourself, Josie?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “You aren’t supposed to call me that, you know. I am far too grown up. And so are you. Only my family calls me that.”

  That stung. Andrew forced a smile. “Forgive me, my lady. I overstepped.”

  She huffed. “Don’t you dare—”

  “No, I insist upon offering my deepest apologies. I, a lowly baronet, presuming to use a familial pet name—it is inexcusable.” He bowed deeply to her, flourishing his hand as he did. “I must owe you a forfeit for such a breach in etiquette. Or else you may name a champion to duel me for your besmirched honor.”

  “You are ridiculous, Andrew.” Josephine put one fist on her hip and glared at him. “Why do I even bother trying to interact with you at all? You are nothing more than a little boy who has outgrown his leading strings.” She turned and went back the way they had come, marching with shoulders stiff, straight as a soldier.

  Andrew chuckled to himself as she went, then turned his attention to James and the dog. He shrugged. If she thought him a little boy, he might as well enjoy himself like one.

  He went to play with the boy and dog, pretending not to notice whether Josephine looked his way again. Someday, he’d best her in their continual battle of wits and wills. Once and for all, he’d win their friendly little war.

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this gentle tale of love, and you’re wondering about Sir Andrew and Lady Josephine’s on-going battle of wits and teasing, you ought to know that the next book in the series is all about them.

  Sir Andrew and the Authoress, available Autumn 2021, can be ordered now.

  You can also keep up with Sally Britton’s release dates and other work by signing up for her newsletter.

  Author’s Notes

  Or �
��What is Real and What I Made Up.”

  Castle Clairvoir is largely based upon the real-life Castle Belvoir (pronounced Bee-ver), the seat of the current Duke of Rutland. The history of the family who built the current castle (as several have existed in the same spot before) inspired the history of my Duke of Montfort and his family, with a few notable exceptions. The inspiration for the gardens came from following Castle Belvoir on Instagram. You should take a peek if you want a good feel for the setting of this book.

  The Kingdom of the Two Sicilies was quite real. That’s the first question readers have asked about this book. It existed for a brief time in the 19th Century. It was a fascinating time in Italian history—Italy as we know it today was divided in two, between Austria and Spain. Secret societies formed in an effort to unify Italy under its own flag, or to take it back to its original city-states. England and the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies had several treaties and trade deals, so it would not be entirely hard to believe an ambassador from the fledgling country would spend a lot of time in England.

  All the books and titles mentioned in this novel are real, and they would have been available at the time this story takes place.

  My female characters are often frustrated by the lack of rights they are given, and their lack of voice. At this period in time, women were working harder than ever to be understood. By the mid-nineteenth century, this became the suffragette movement. Prior to this, there certainly were women who worked behind-the-scenes in the political world to influence change.

  The pasta-making scene was my absolute favorite to write. While I hope it provides entertainment to readers, please do not use it as a guide to make your own pasta. My cooking experiences never end well, so this scene was written with input from those with more experience and a LOT of online videos.

  Italian dialects are all quite different. Rather than try for historically accurate Italian or (likely more appropriate to the hero) Sicilian, I chose to use modern Italian.