The Kiss That Made Her Countess
Author
Laura Martin
Reads
17.9K
Chapters
23
In celebration of Harlequin's 75th year, we bring you A Season of Celebration! Surrender to the emotion and passion that begins with an unforgettable Midsummer ball! One impulsive kiss… His countess for life! Desperate to step into Society just once before she's forced into an unhappy marriage, Alice sneaks into a masquerade ball… only to catch a dashing stranger's eye! He's also determined to be distracted from his troubles, and Alice can't resist ending their enchanting evening with a kiss. But the next day, when he comes to warn her that their encounter was observed, she learns he's the Earl of Northumberland… and the only way to save her reputation is to become his convenient countess!
Chapter One
Not for the first time that evening Alice felt ridiculous. She glanced down at the borrowed dress, the hem splattered with mud, and the delicate shoes. If they ever made it to Lady Salisbury’s ball she would trail dirt all over the ballroom floor.
‘Come, Alice. We can’t stop now,’ Lydia called over her shoulder before vaulting over a wooden fence. Alice followed a little more slowly, wondering how she had been dragged into this madcap plan. ‘We’re almost there. I swear I can hear the music.’
With as much grace and elegance as she could muster, Alice climbed over the fence, closing her eyes in horror as the material of her dress snagged on a protruding nail. There was the sickening sound of ripping fabric as she lost her balance and the dress was tugged free.
‘Lydia, wait,’ Alice shouted, looking up to see her friend plunging head first through a hedge. She had no choice but to follow, grimacing as she spotted the ripped area near the hem of her dress. Hopefully she would be able to mend it and clean it before her cousin even noticed the dress was missing.
She paused before the hedge, wondering how Lydia had made her way through the dense foliage, and then a hand shot out and gripped her wrist. Lydia was giggling as Alice emerged, an expression of surprise on her face, and soon Alice was laughing too.
‘Just think, in a few minutes we will be whirling across the ballroom in the arms of the most handsome bachelors in all of Northumberland,’ Lydia said as she gripped Alice’s hand. ‘Maybe there will be a dashing duke or an eligible earl to sweep you off your feet.’
For a moment Alice closed her eyes and contemplated the possibilities. It was highly unlikely she would meet anyone at the ball that could save her from the impending match that made her heart sink every time she thought of her future.
‘My last night of freedom,’ she murmured.
Lydia scoffed. ‘You make it sound as if you are on your way to the gallows.’
‘That is exactly what it feels like.’
‘Surely he is not that bad.’
Alice screwed up her face and gave a little shudder. ‘I am well aware I have lived a sheltered life so have not come across the scoundrels and the criminals of this country, but Cousin Cecil is by far the worst person I have ever met.’
‘Perhaps your parents will not make you marry him.’
‘I doubt they will save me from that fate.’ Tomorrow Alice’s second cousin, Cecil Billington, was coming to stay for a week with the single purpose of finalising an agreement of marriage between him and Alice. As yet he had not proposed, but Alice was aware of the negotiations going on in the background with her father. She hadn’t dared enquire as to the specifics; even just the idea of Cecil made her feel sick.
‘Then, tonight will have to make up for the next forty years of putting up with Cecil.’
Lydia grabbed her by the hand and began pulling her over the grass again. The house was in view now, the terrace at the back lit up with dozens of lamps positioned at equal intervals along the stone balustrade. Music drifted out from the open doors, and there was the swell of voices as those escaping the heat of the ballroom strolled along the terrace.
‘Someone will see us,’ Alice said, feeling suddenly exposed. There was only about thirty feet separating them and the house now, but it was all open lawn, and by the time they reached the steps leading up to the terrace it would be a miracle if they made it even halfway unobserved.
‘Then, let us act like we belong. We more than look the part. If we stroll serenely arm-in-arm, I wager no one will pay us any attention. We are just two invited guests having a wonderful time at the Midsummer’s Eve ball.’
Alice considered for a moment and then nodded. ‘You are right. If we try to creep in, it will be obvious immediately. The only way we have half a chance is by pretending we are meant to be here.’
Instantly she straightened her back and lifted her chin, trying to mimic the poise and confidence of Lady Salisbury, the hostess of the sumptuous masked ball. Sometimes Alice would catch a glimpse of the viscountess stepping out of her carriage or taking a stroll through the extensive grounds of Salisbury Hall. She looked regal in her posture and elegant in her movements, and Alice tried to copy how she held herself and how she walked.
‘Wait,’ Lydia called and slipped a mask into Alice’s hand. It was delicate in design, only meant to fit over the upper part of the wearer’s face. White in colour, it had an intricate silver pattern painted onto it, a collection of swirls and dots that glimmered in the moonlight. Alice put it on, securing the mask with the silver ribbon tied into a bow at the back of her head. She looked over to Lydia to see her friend had a similar mask now obscuring the top half of her face.
Lydia slipped her arm through Alice’s, and together they strolled slowly across the lawn. Despite her urge to run, Alice knew this ruse would work best if they moved at a sedate pace. No one blinked as they ascended the stairs onto the terrace, and Alice heard her friend suppress a little squeal of excitement as they reached the doors to the ballroom.
Neither girl had ever been to a ball like this before. On occasion they would attend the dances at the local Assembly Rooms, but even those were few and far between. Once Alice had begged her parents to allow her and her sister to stay with some friends in Newcastle to enjoy the delights of the social calendar there, but worried about their daughters’ reputations, her parents had refused.
‘This is magical,’ Alice whispered, pausing on the threshold to take everything in. The room was large and richly decorated. The walls were covered in the finest cream wallpaper. At set intervals there were large, gold-framed mirrors, positioned to reflect the guests on the dance floor and make the ballroom seem as if it were even bigger than it was. From the ceiling hung two magnificent chandeliers, each with at least a hundred candles burning bright and illuminating the room. In between the mirrors on the walls there were yet more candles, flickering and reflecting off the glass and making the whole ballroom shimmer and shine.
The assembled guests added to the vision of opulence, the men in finely tailored tailcoats with silk cravats and the women in beautiful dresses of silk and satin. The theme of this masked ball was the Midsummer celebrations, and many of the guests had dressed with a nod to this in mind. Some women had freshly picked flowers woven into their hair or pinned to their dresses as they normally would a brooch.
‘I have never seen anything like this,’ Lydia said, her mouth open in awe.
‘Thank you,’ Alice said, squeezing her friend’s hand. ‘For making me come tonight. You’re right. I deserve one last night of happiness before a lifetime of being married to vile Cousin Cecil.’
Lydia leaned in close and held Alice’s eye. ‘Enjoy it to the utmost. Dance with every man that asks, sip sparkling wine like it is water, admire all the marvellous women in their beautiful dresses.’
‘I will.’
For a moment Alice felt a little overwhelmed. This was not her world, not where she belonged, and she was aware she didn’t know how to talk to these people. It felt as though someone might come and pluck her out of the crowd and announce Alice James, you do not belong here.
A young gentleman, no older than Alice and Lydia, approached, swallowing nervously. He smiled at them both, showing a line of crooked teeth, and then directed his focus on Lydia.
‘I know we have not been introduced, but may I have the pleasure of the next dance?’
Alice watched as her friend blushed under her mask. Lydia was bold and confident on the outside, but sometimes she would stutter and stammer amongst people she did not know.
‘I would be delighted,’ Lydia said, giving Alice a backwards glance as her partner led her off to the edge of the dance floor to wait for the next dance to be called.
Suddenly alone Alice felt very exposed, and she shrank back, aghast when she brushed against a large pot filled with a leafy plant with brightly coloured flowers. It wobbled on its table, threatening to crash to the ground. She lunged, trying to steady it, and as her hands reached around the ceramic she had an awful vision of the container crashing to the floor and the whole ballroom turning to her in the silence that followed, realising she shouldn’t be there.
‘Steady,’ a deep voice said right in her ear, making her jump and almost sending the pot flying again. An arm brushed past her waist, reaching quickly to stop the plant from toppling.
For a long moment Alice did not move, only turning when she was certain there was going to be no terrible accident with the plant in front of her. When she did finally turn she inhaled sharply. Standing right behind her, just the right distance away so as not to attract any disapproving stares, was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on. He wasn’t wearing a mask, and Alice reasoned there was no point. Everyone in the room would know who he was just by looking at his eyes. They were blue, but not the same pale blue of her own eyes but bright and vibrant, piercing in their intensity. He had that attractive combination of blue eyes and dark hair that was uncommon in itself but that, added to the perfect proportions of the rest of his facial features, meant he was easily the most desirable man in the room.
‘Thank you,’ she said, her heart still pounding in her chest from the worry that she was about to cause a scene with the crashing décor. ‘That could have been a disaster.’
Simon smiled blandly at the pretty young woman in front of him and turned to leave, not wanting to get caught up in conversation with someone he should probably know. There were hundreds of young ladies in Northumberland he’d been introduced to, and he could never remember their names. It was one of the tribulations of being an earl: everyone knew you, everyone recognised you, and most expected you to remember them.
His brother had been good at that sort of thing, remembering every face and name, making connections between members of the same families. When out on the estate or visiting the local village Robert would stop and talk to almost everyone he met, enquiring after the health of various ailing relatives or newborn babies. Robert had been loved by their tenants and staff in a way that was impossible to follow, especially when Simon had trouble remembering even a fraction of the names of the people he encountered in the local area.
As he turned he spotted his sister-in-law entering the ballroom. He had a lot of time and respect for Maria, the dowager countess, but right now he did not want to see her. Recently she had been urging him to marry and settle down, which was the furthest thing from what he had planned for his life. Tonight no doubt she would have a list of eligible young ladies lined up for him to dance with, all perfectly nice and decent young ladies, but there was no point in him seeking a connection with anyone, not now, not ever.
Not wanting to get caught by Maria and her list of accomplished young ladies, he hastily turned back to the woman in front of him.
‘I don’t think we’ve been introduced,’ he said.
‘Miss Alice James,’ she said, bobbing into a little curtsy. She looked up at him expectantly, and he realised she was waiting for him to introduce himself.
‘Lord Westcroft,’ he said, seeing her eyes widen. Unless she was a consummate actress it would seem she hadn’t known who he was. He didn’t like to view himself as conceited, but generally most people did recognise him when he entered a room. It was one of the disadvantages of being an earl.
‘A pleasure to meet you, my Lord.’
‘The dancing is about to begin, Miss James. I wonder if I might have the pleasure of this dance?’
‘You want to dance with me?’ She sounded incredulous, and he had to suppress a smile at her honest reaction.
‘If that is agreeable to you?’
She nodded, and he held out his arm to her, escorting her to the dance floor just as the musicians played the first note of the music for a country dance.
He had been dancing all his life, and over the years been to hundreds of balls and danced countless dances. Before his brother had died he had quite enjoyed socialising, but everything had lost its shine after Robert’s death. Miss James stood opposite him and beamed, looking around her in delight. She was young, but not so young that this could be her first ball, and he wondered if she approached everything with such irrepressible happiness.
The dance was fast-paced, and as it was their turn to progress down the line of other dancers, Miss James looked up at him and smiled with such unbridled joy that for a moment he froze. Thankfully he recovered before she noticed, and they continued the dance without him missing a step, but as they took their place at the end of the line he found he could not take his eyes off her. Even with her mask on he could see she was pretty. She had thick auburn hair that was pinned back in the current fashion, but a few strands had slipped loose and curled around her neck. Her eyes were a pale blue that shimmered in the candlelight, but the part of her he felt himself drawn to was her lips. She smiled all the time, her expression varying between a closed-lip, small smile of contentment to a wider smile of pleasure at various points throughout the dance. When she got a step wrong, she didn’t flush with embarrassment as many young ladies would, but instead giggled at her own mistake. Simon realised he hadn’t met anyone in a long time who was completely and utterly living in the moment and, in that moment, happy.
As the music finished he bowed to his partner and then surprised himself by offering her his arm.
‘Shall we get some air, Miss James?’
She looked up at him, cheeks flushed from the exertion, and nodded.
‘That would be most welcome.’
Simon saw his sister-in-law’s eyes on him as he escorted Miss James from the dance floor to the edge of the ballroom, stopping to pick up two glasses of punch on the way. The ballroom was hot now, with the press of bodies, and it was a relief to step outside into the cool air.
‘I think Midsummer might be my new favourite time of year,’ Miss James said as they chose a spot by the stone balustrade. She leaned on it, looking out at the garden and the night sky beyond.
‘What has it displaced?’ Simon asked.
‘I do love Christmas. There is something rather magical about crackling wood on the fire whilst it snows outside and you are all snug inside. But I will never forget this wonderful Midsummer night.’
‘Forgive me, Miss James, but have we met before?’
‘No.’
‘You seem very certain.’
She smiled at him. There was no guile in her expression, and he realised that she had no expectation from him. Most young women he was introduced to looked at him as something to be conquered. Their ultimate aim was to impress him so they might have a chance at becoming his countess. It was tiresome and meant he had started to avoid situations where he was likely to be pushed into small talk with unmarried young women. Miss James had no calculating aspect to her; she was not trying to impress him. It was refreshing to talk to someone and realise they wanted nothing from you.
‘I think I would remember, my Lord.’
‘You are from Northumberland?’
‘Yes, my family live only a few miles away.’
‘Then, our paths must have crossed at a ball or a dinner party, surely.’
He saw her eyes widen and a look of panic on her face. He wondered for a moment if she might try to flee, but instead she fiddled with her glass and then took a great gulp of punch.
‘I have a little confession,’ she said, leaning in closer so only he could hear her words. ‘This is my first ball.’
‘Your first?’
‘Yes.’
He looked at her closer, wondering if he had been wrong in assessing her age. He’d placed her at around twenty or twenty-one. Young still, but certainly old enough to have been out in society for a good few years. It was hard to tell with the mask covering her eyes, but he did not think he had got his estimation wrong.
‘I have been to dances,’ she said quickly. ‘Just not to any balls like this.’
‘How can that be, Miss James?’
She bit her lip and flicked him a nervous glance.
‘If I tell you, you might have me escorted out.’
It was his turn to smile.
‘I doubt it, Miss James. Unless you tell me you sneaked in with the sole purpose to sabotage Lady Salisbury’s ball or steal her silverware.’
Miss James pressed her lips together and then leaned in even closer, her shoulders almost touching his.
‘You are half-right,’ she said, her voice low so only he could hear.
‘You plan to steal Lady Salisbury’s silverware.’
She flicked him an amused glance. ‘No, I am no criminal, but I did sneak in.’ As soon as she said the words, she clapped her hands over her mouth in horror. ‘I can’t believe I just told you that. It was the one thing I was meant to keep secret tonight, and it is the first thing I tell you.’
Simon felt a swell of mirth rise up inside him, and he realised for the first time in a long time he was having fun. Fun had seemed a foreign concept these last few years. In a short space of time he had lost his brother, inherited a title he had never wanted and been forced to confront the issue of his own mortality. He’d been forced into making monumental decisions over the last few weeks, everything serious and fraught with emotion.
‘You sneaked in?’
She nodded, eyes wide with horror.
‘Are you going to tell anyone?’
‘I am not sure yet,’ he said, suppressing a smile of his own.
‘Lydia is going to be furious,’ Miss James murmured.
‘There are two of you?’
She closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘I need to stop talking.’
‘Please don’t, Miss James. This is the most fun I’ve had for months.’
‘Now you’re mocking me.’
‘Not at all.’
‘You’re an earl. This cannot be the most fun you’ve had. Your life must be full of luxury and entertainment.’
‘I find it is mainly full of accounts and responsibilities,’ he said. ‘That is unfair and very... I am well aware of the privileged life I lead. It is full of luxury and extravagance, as you say, but not fun.’
‘That is sad,’ Alice said, and she touched him on the hand. It was a fleeting contact, but it made his skin tingle, and he looked up quickly. There was no guile in her eyes, and he realised the furthest thing from her mind was seduction—whether because she had a young man she fancied herself in love with or because their backgrounds were so far apart she knew there could never be anything between them.
‘It is sad,’ he said quietly. ‘So tonight I charge you with lifting this grumpy man’s spirits.’
‘And in exchange you will not expose my deception.’
‘We have a deal. Tell me, Miss James, how did you manage to sneak in without one of the dozens of footmen seeing you?’
She motioned out at the garden beyond the terrace. Only the terrace was lit, the grass and the formal garden beyond in darkness.
‘We crept through the garden.’
He glanced down and laughed. ‘I can see there was a little mud.’
‘I was terrified when we arrived that I might have foliage in my hair. We had to squeeze through a hedge to get into the right part of the garden.’
‘That is commitment to your cause. What made you so keen to come here tonight?’
She sighed and looked out into the darkness.
‘I doubt you know the feeling of helplessness, of not being in control of your own future,’ she said with a hint of melancholy. She was wrong in her assumption, but now was not the time to correct her. ‘Soon I will not be able to choose anything more thrilling than what curtains to hang or what to serve for dinner.’
‘You are to be married.’
The expression on her face told him she was not happy about the prospect.
She straightened and turned to face him. ‘I am to marry my second cousin, vile Cecil.’
‘Vile Cecil?’
‘It is an apt description of him.’
‘I already feel sorry for you. What makes him so vile?’
Miss James exhaled, puffing out her cheeks in a way that made him smile. He didn’t know her exact background, but by the way she spoke and held herself he would guess she was from a family of the minor gentry. Perhaps a landowner father or even a vicar. She knew how to conduct herself but hadn’t been subject to the scrutiny many of the women of the ton had to endure, so the odd shrug of the shoulders or theatrical sigh hadn’t been trained out of her.
‘Where to start? Imagine you are a young lady,’ she said, and he adopted his most serious expression.
‘I am imagining.’
‘Good. You are introduced to a distant relative about fifteen years older than you,’ she said and held up a finger. ‘The age gap is not an issue you must understand. I am aware women are of higher value to society when they are young and beautiful and men when they are older and richer.’
‘I did not think you would be such a cynic, Miss James.’ Simon was surprised to find he was enjoying himself immensely. There was something freeing talking to this woman who was a total stranger and had no expectations of him at all.
‘Is it cynical to observe the truth?’ She pushed on. ‘This distant relative is unfortunate-looking, with a lazy eye, yellowed teeth and rapidly thinning hair that he arranges in a way he hopes will hide the fact he hasn’t much left. But you have been raised to appreciate no one can help how they look so you push aside all thoughts of their physical appearance.’
Simon pressed his lips together. Miss James had an amusing way of telling a story, and he urged her to continue. ‘I am channelling those very thoughts,’ he said.
‘Good. Then he reaches out and with a sweaty palm lays a hand on your shoulder. A fleeting touch you could forgive, but the hand lingers far too long, and all the while his eyes do not move from your chest.’
‘He is not sounding very enticing.’
‘Then throughout the evening he makes his horrible opinions known on everything from how the poor should be punished for the awful situations they find themselves in to slavery to how it is God’s plan for the lower levels of society to be decimated by illness that spreads more when people live in close conditions.’
‘I am beginning to see why he is vile.’
‘And he does all this whilst trying to squeeze your knee under the table.’
‘Your parents are happy for you to marry him?’
Miss James sighed. ‘Last year my sister...’ She bit her lip again, drawing his gaze for a moment. ‘I probably shouldn’t tell you this.’ Then she shrugged and continued. ‘Yet our paths are never going to cross again.’
‘What if I add in the extra layer of security by swearing I will never breathe a word of this to anyone.’
‘You are a man of your word?’
‘I never break an oath.’
‘Last year my sister was caught up in a bit of a scandal. Rumours of late-night liaisons with a married gentleman. For a month she and I were forbidden to leave the house, and my parents thought we might even have to leave Bamburgh and move elsewhere. Thankfully a friend of my father’s stepped in and proposed marriage to my sister to save her and the rest of our family from scandal.’
‘Did it work?’
‘Yes, although there are still a few people who cross the street to avoid my mother and me if we are out shopping. My sister is happy as mistress of her own home, living down in Devon, and she has a baby on the way. All things for a short while we thought she might never have.’
‘This has pushed your parents to make an unwise match for you?’
‘I think they are panicked. They are aware the taint of scandal can linger for a long time, and they keep reminding me I am already one and twenty. There are no local unmarried young men of the right social class so they decided they would arrange the only match that was assured.’
‘Could you not refuse?’
Miss James laughed, but there was no bitterness in her tone, just pure amusement.
‘We live in very different worlds, my Lord. I have no money of my own, no income, no way of supporting myself. I cannot even boast of a very good education so I doubt anyone would employ me as a governess. My value comes in marrying someone who can support me and any future children and remove that burden from my parents.’
‘Vile Cecil is wealthy?’
‘Moderately so. Enough to satisfy my parents. He is eager to be married and comes tomorrow to stay to discuss our engagement.’
‘He has not asked you yet?’
‘No, but that part is a mere formality.’ She closed her eyes. ‘So you see, this is my one last chance to dance at a ball with whoever I choose, to get a little tipsy with punch and to take ill-advised strolls along the terrace with mysterious gentlemen.’
‘Then, we must ensure you have the best night of your life.’
