The Accidental Countess

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The Accidental Countess Page 3

by Valerie Bowman


  “He is not,” Pen retorted, crossing over the thick carpet and staring at herself in the same looking glass that Cass had recently abandoned. “He’s not my intended yet. Nothing is settled definitely.”

  Pen’s mother plunked her hands on her hips. “I don’t care if he’s a cadet. He’s going to be your husband one day and he’s made the trip all the way out here to say good-bye to you before he leaves. You’ll do him the courtesy of speaking with him.”

  Pen rolled her eyes and stuffed a fat brown curl behind her ear. “If you insist, Mother.”

  “I most certainly do. Now, I’ll go and greet him. You come down to the rose salon in ten minutes, miss.”

  Pen’s mother strode from the room, giving her daughter a stern stare.

  “I wish she wasn’t so set on my match with Julian Swift,” Penelope said, after her mother had vacated the room. “For all I know he’ll be gone for five entire years. Five years! Can you imagine?”

  Cass shook her head. In part because she truly couldn’t imagine Julian being gone for such a long time and in part because the thought brought tears to her eyes and she was already desperately fighting them. “No,” she murmured. “I cannot.”

  “He might not even return at all,” Pen pointed out.

  Cass could only nod, but her cousin’s words stung her heart.

  “I may never see him again,” Pen added.

  Cass walked silently back over to the looking glass and took her cousin’s hand. “Is that why you don’t want to speak to him, Pen? You’re afraid of getting close. In the event that he … d-dies.” She closed her eyes on that last word. Unthinkable. Unimaginable.

  “Not really,” Pen replied, tugging her hand from Cass’s grasp. “I just cannot bear to think of myself growing old and ugly waiting for a man who might not be coming back. It’s completely unfair, don’t you think?”

  Surely Pen didn’t know how harsh her words sounded. Surely she didn’t mean them the way they came across.

  “I’m sorry, Pen,” Cass said simply. “It must be quite difficult for you.”

  “You’ve no idea,” Pen replied. “And I’m sorry, too. Sorry that Mother and Father chose a second son with a target on his back to be my groom. I know I’m not the best catch of the Season, but surely they could find me someone who isn’t about to go cavorting all over Europe. They only want this match so that they can be connected to the Swifdon title.”

  Cass couldn’t disagree with her cousin. It was true that the Swifdons were an illustrious family. But how could Pen not want Julian? Tall, handsome, kind Julian? Why, Cass had been in love with him since the day she’d first seen him.

  “What are you going to do, Pen?” Cass smoothed her hands down her skirts.

  “What can I do?” Pen asked with a sigh. “I’m going to have to go speak with him. Say good-bye.” Just then, Pen’s eyes lit with fire. “Do me a favor, Cass. Come and save me in five minutes.”

  Cass blinked rapidly. “Save you?”

  “Yes. Come down to the rose salon and interrupt. Tell me you’re about to begin the celebration or something. Anything. I cannot bear to stay there and endure an awkward discussion with Lieutenant Swift for Lord knows how long.”

  Cass shook her head. She couldn’t imagine not wanting to savor what might well be her last moments on earth with Julian. “Oh, no, I cannot—”

  “Of course you can. Do it, please. For me?” Pen squeezed Cass’s shoulder and flew from the room saying, “Thank you, Cass, you’re such a dear,” on her way out as if Cass had agreed.

  Shaking, Cass turned slowly and took another look in the mirror. She’d gone white as a ghost, whiter, even, than she had been before if such a thing were possible. Perhaps she’d turn translucent next. Translucent with freckles, what a lovely combination. She sighed. What was she to do? Pen was expecting her to barge in on her last private moments with her future husband and interrupt them. Cass paced in front of the mirror, pondering it all for a moment. There was one good thing to consider.

  If Cass did it, in the end she’d be alone with Julian. Possibly.

  Very well, she would do it. It was her birthday after all, wasn’t it? What better birthday present could she ask for than a stolen moment with the man she loved?

  Cass waited the interminable five minutes before carefully making her way down to the rose salon. The door was shut. She bit her lip. Oh, surely she’d be interrupting something. Then she remembered that was the entire point.

  She glanced down at her pretty dress and a bit of confidence flooded through her. She straightened her shoulders and knocked.

  “Come in!” Penelope’s overly eager voice rang out.

  Cass pushed open the door and tentatively made her way into the room. Pen was there, sitting on a settee in the center of the room. Julian stood across from her with his back to the fireplace, his hands folded behind him. He wore his uniform and the sight of him in it was amazing, but it also brought tears to Cass’s eyes. He looked so handsome and noble and … Julian was an officer in His Majesty’s army. He would be in harm’s way in a matter of days.

  “Yes, Cass? What is it? Are you all right?” Pen stood and Cass got the distinct impression that her cousin would have run from the room already were she not waiting for Cass to voice the reason why she must. She stared at Cass with hope brimming in her dark eyes.

  “Good afternoon, Lady Cassandra,” Julian said, bowing to her.

  Cass fought her blush and curtsied back. “Lieutenant Swift. So good to see you again.”

  “What is it, Cass?” Pen asked, a note of petulance back in her voice.

  “I … uh … er … Mother wanted to see you, Pen,” Cass murmured. As excuses went, it was particularly weak, but Cass had been preoccupied with the thought of seeing Julian. She hadn’t spent a moment of the last five minutes planning what she would say to extract her cousin from the room.

  Penelope obviously didn’t need a better excuse. “Oh, dear. I must go and see what she wants. Do take care, Lieutenant Swift. Safe travels.”

  Julian held out a hand to her. “Penelope, wait—”

  She was gone from the room without a backward glance and Cass was left alone with a crestfallen Lieutenant Swift. She was a bit embarrassed by her cousin’s behavior. “I … I’m sorry,” she said, not quite knowing what else to offer him.

  He stared at the empty space that Penelope had just occupied, a chagrined look on his face. “I was going to ask Penelope to write to me.”

  Cass pressed her hand against her middle, trying to quell the nervous flight of butterflies there. “Pen isn’t much of a writer, I’m afraid. She rarely answers my letters from the country.”

  “She didn’t seem quite eager to … Still, it would be nice to get a letter now and again.”

  “I’ll write to you.” The words flew from Cass’s lips before she had a chance to examine them. She nearly clapped her hand over her mouth for her impertinence.

  He turned to her with a bit of hope in his gray eyes. “You would do that?”

  She tilted her head up to face him. He was so tall, so tall and—“Yes. I adore writing.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes. I can tell you what Pen is up to, keep you informed,” she offered.

  He smiled at her, his white teeth flashing, making Cass’s insides feel all squishy. “I’d like that very much, Lady Cassandra.”

  Cass blushed and glanced away. Had it been horribly forward of her to volunteer to write to her cousin’s intended? Would her mother be angry? Would Pen? Would her aunt? Cass tried to summon the requisite shame, but all she felt was an overwhelming sense of happiness. Contentment. She grinned like a fool. She would have a connection to Julian while he was gone. They might merely trade the usual bits of information, but it would be something, better than nothing, better than waiting to hear the odd piece of news from her cousin. Yes. It was just perfect.

  “Thank you,” Julian finally said, and Cass dared to meet his gaze.

  “Think nothing
of it, Lieutenant Swift,” she replied, digging the toe of her slipper into the thick carpet.

  Julian scrubbed a hand through his hair and pointed toward the door. “I suppose you’ll want to get back to the party.”

  “It is my birthday.” Cass glanced toward the door as well. She hesitated. She couldn’t very well tell him that she’d rather spend the entire day alone in here just staring at him rather than set foot out the door again. That would be entirely inappropriate. Wouldn’t it? She nearly laughed aloud at her own thought.

  “Happy birthday, Lady Cassandra,” he said. “I must admit I don’t have a gift for you. Please accept my apology.”

  She smiled at him. “No apology necessary, Lieutenant.”

  Cass turned to the door and stepped toward it. Unless. A voice stopped her, a clear undeniable voice. The voice of a devil, a devil who had not heretofore made his presence known to her. But now he was undeniable and he was standing directly on her shoulder, whispering in her ear. She’d never been so bold, had never even considered it. But somehow the devil nudged her with his fiery little prickly pitchfork and she turned back to face Julian Swift.

  “Unless…” She murmured the word the devil had whispered in her ear.

  Julian’s eyebrows shot up. “Unless?”

  “There may be something you can give me for my birthday.”

  His brows furrowed. “Indeed?”

  It was as if she was no longer in her own body. Instead she was floating somewhere high above it, near the ceiling of the drawing room, staring down at the plucky little freckled blond sixteen-year-old whom she’d never met before. The same little blond sixteen-year-old who walked back over to Lieutenant Swift, stared up into his impossibly handsome face, and said, “You could give me my first kiss.”

  If Lieutenant Swift was shocked or horrified by her request, he did not betray himself by word or deed. Instead, he let his hands fall to his sides and blew out a long breath. “You’ve never been kissed before?”

  Cass shook her head. “No.”

  “No, I don’t suppose you have at your age.”

  Cass had promptly closed her eyes and puckered her lips, lifting her chin to meet his mouth.

  The touch was feather light. But it was not his lips on hers. It was the back of his fingers against her cheek. He softly rubbed her skin. He was standing so close to her that she could smell the scent of his wool uniform, the barest hint of his soap, the spicy tinge of his cologne. A scent she would cherish and remember for years. Still, she remained in that position, her lips tightly puckered, waiting, waiting, for a kiss that never came.

  Instead, the light sweep of his fingers against her cheek turned into a flicker near her ear. He pushed a soft curl behind her lobe. Cass opened her eyes, blinking. She didn’t understand. Wasn’t he going to kiss her?

  “Happy birthday, Lady Cassandra.” He leaned forward and the warm brush of his lips against her forehead nearly singed off her eyelashes. She would never wash her forehead again. All right, perhaps that was a bit too much. Was it?

  “I look forward to your letters,” he said softly. Then he turned on his heel and strode from the room, the sharp click of boots against the marble floor resounding in Cass’s soul.

  Cass had never forgotten that moment. At first his refusal to kiss her on the lips had stung but over the years she’d come to realize that he couldn’t have done anything else. It would have been entirely inappropriate and ungentlemanly of him to kiss the sixteen-year-old cousin of his future wife even if it was a birthday request. And frankly, the kiss on her forehead had been enough to hold Cass over for the last seven years.

  Lucy’s voice penetrated Cass’s memories. “Haven’t we always talked about how you wished Captain Swift would come back safely from the war and you would have a chance with him?” Lucy said. “Don’t you see? I’m giving you that chance.”

  Cass leaned her head against the back of the settee and groaned. “I wished that but I never expected it. Julian and Pen have been all but engaged since they were children. Their parents decided on the match years ago. They’ve only been waiting for Julian to return to officially announce it. A chance with him is not possible.”

  “Not with a thought like that, it’s not,” Lucy continued, completely undaunted. “Besides, we’ve always known Pen isn’t exactly in love with the man. She’s run away from him, after all. Hardly the actions of a besotted future bride.”

  “That’s beside the point. It’s just not right for me to … to…” Cass rubbed her hand against a temple. The headache had returned and this time it was wielding a scythe.

  “To what? Be in love with him? You can hardly help that, dear.” Lucy smiled and patted Cass’s hand with her free one.

  Cass slumped her shoulders and sighed. “Oh, Lucy, you know I would never do anything to hurt Pen, or Julian. I must go to him. I must tell him the truth immediately before this gets any further out of hand. I—”

  Lucy set down her cup with a clatter and turned to face Cass. She plunked both hands on her hips. “No one will get hurt. It’s nothing more than a lark. We’ll have the house party at my parents’ country estate. They’ve gone up to Scotland for the autumn. The servants adore me. They’ll play along. I’ll explain everything to them.”

  Cass shook her head, pressing her fingertips to her temples. “No. It’s madness. Simply madness.”

  “Why? What could go wrong?” The look on Lucy’s face was pure innocence.

  Cass’s mouth fell open. “What could…? The fact that you would even ask such a question is evidence of what a lunatic you are. What about your husband?”

  Lucy’s grin widened. “Derek is leaving for the Continent soon. He’ll be gone for at least a fortnight. It’s perfect timing. He’ll never know.”

  “Fine. What about my parents?” Cass continued.

  “We shall tell your parents you’re at Miss Bunbury’s house party. Chaperoned by me, of course.” Lucy’s smile was unrepentant.

  Cass tightened her grip on the arms of her chair. Lucy had an answer for absolutely everything. Lucy always had an answer for absolutely everything. The worst part of this entire thing was that somewhere in the back of her mind, Cass was actually beginning to consider it. A lark, Lucy had said. No one will get hurt, Lucy had said. Was that possible? Truly?

  Cass concentrated on breathing, breathing and thinking. It was as if the devil was back, sitting on one shoulder whispering, “Do it, Cass. Say yes!” While an angel had made her home on the other, whispering, “I cannot believe you’re even considering this, miss.”

  Cass buried her face in her hands. Why was it becoming increasingly difficult to come up with reasons to say no? “My parents still haven’t forgiven you, Lucy,” she offered lamely.

  Lucy shrugged. “They may not have forgiven me, but they very much appreciate that I am a duchess and can introduce you to eligible gentlemen.”

  Lucy had her there. Cass’s parents were still distraught because Cass had allowed a duke to slip from her grasp, but they were mollified a bit knowing the new duchess was Cass’s closest friend. They hoped the alliance would help to secure a fine match. But still, Cass mustn’t allow Lucy to confuse the issue. “Fine. But what about the fact that you just told Julian that Penelope would be at the house party? Do you expect Penelope to arrive at a party if she knows Julian will be there, and play along with this farce? She made it up to get away from him.”

  “Of course I don’t expect Penelope to attend.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “That would ruin everything.”

  Cass splayed a hand in the air. “Then why did you tell Julian she would be there?”

  Now Lucy was giving her an I’m-speaking-to-an-imbecile look. “So he would come, of course.”

  Cass shook her head. “This makes no sense.”

  “It makes perfect sense. We’ll tell him Pen was waylaid along the road or had to turn around because she forgot something. Who knows? I’ll think of something.”

  “That’s your plan? Are you jesting
?”

  “Yes, it’s my plan. And no, I’m not jesting. Honestly, Cass, you act as if we’ve never done anything like this before.”

  Cass groaned. Oh, she remembered only too well. “If you’re speaking about your little stint behind the hedgerow last summer, might I remind you that that didn’t work?”

  Of course Lucy was speaking about the hedgerow incident. When the Duke of Claringdon had returned from battle last June, he’d taken an immediate interest in Cass. Alarmed, Cass had asked her blunt friend Lucy to be her voice and discourage the duke. That had ended with Lucy hiding behind a hedgerow in a garden and feeding Cass lines to say in an effort to discourage him. Later, Lucy had hidden atop a balcony pretending to be Cass, and, well, there had been a great deal more egregious behavior before it had all ended in the obvious conclusion that Lucy was perfect for the duke herself.

  However, as usual, Lucy remained undaunted. “Yes, but it all worked out in the end, dear, and that is what’s important. Be bold!”

  There they were, Lucy’s two favorite words. Cass had known her friend would say them before long. Lucy used be bold as her reasoning for doing everything she shouldn’t do. In fact, the tenet had got them both into a great deal of trouble. Cass sighed. Yes, boldness spelled mischief. Though Cass couldn’t deny that her friend was now happily married and madly in love with her duke of a husband as a result of being quite bold, indeed.

  Cass placed her hands back on her hips. “What precisely do you think will come of this little scheme, Lucy? What do you hope to be the result after it’s all over?”

  Lucy grinned. “Now who’s being ridiculous, Cass? Why, I expect that Julian will fall madly in love with you, of course.”

  Cass closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Even if that were true, are you forgetting that he’d be falling in love with Patience, not me?”

  Lucy nodded. “Yes, Patience whom he is already very much infatuated with.”

  Cass gave her a look that indicated she was quite certain the duchess had lost her mind. “What are you talking about? He was in my company for only a few minutes.”

 

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