The Accidental Countess (About An Earl #3)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

U nlike many rakes of his generation, Roderick Stratford, Earl of Kirkwood, actually believed in love. He had experienced it, after all, during the first fifteen years of his life, watching his besotted parents and their relationship, which often seemed to be plucked from the pages of a fairytale. It had created all his expectations of what his heart should feel for a future wife.

Their untimely deaths had shown him how deeply that same heart could break. But still, he believed, though he’d not yet found someone who engendered the tender feelings he required to wed.

“There you are! Having a brood, are we?”

Roderick stifled a laugh as he turned to face his old friend, Viscount George Lockhart. They’d been friends since school, thick as thieves, along with a handful of other young men, many of whom had taken their titles just as Roderick already had. Lockhart was still in waiting, though not with much anticipation, to come into his own earldom.

“A good brood is well-worth nursing,” Roderick said as he extended a hand for a firm shake. “Especially while waiting for a friend to intrude. How are you, Lockhart? We kept missing each other all Season. ”

Lockhart rolled his eyes. “As you well know, Ramsbury and Delacourt both married recently, so my mother spent the last few months aiming me at every young woman from the current crop of debutantes. I hardly had time for any fun at all.”

“And none caught your eye?” Roderick asked. “Made your heart flutter?”

Lockhart choked on a laugh. “You’re the only one fool enough to think there’s true love left in the world, friend.”

“I beg to differ. The two earls you just mentioned have been very public about being in love with their wives.”

“Ugh,” Lockhart groaned. “Yes. I fear I shall be one of the last bastions of rationality in this cold, cruel world!”

“Well, at least the Season is coming to an end. I assume you’ll go back to your estate in Derbyshire where you can hunt and carouse to your heart’s content without interference?”

“That is the plan.” His friend sighed. “But I have a ghastly duty to perform first.”

Roderick smiled at the theatrical tone of Lockhart’s voice. “And what is that?”

“Mama insists that I attend the party my aunt and uncle are holding over at their country home. She claims it’s on my way to my estate, though it makes me go twenty miles away from my route and will be as exciting as watching toast brown.” He stared at Roderick for a moment. “Why don’t you come with me?”

Roderick couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “After you just told me it was going to be boring and ghastly?”

Lockhart shook his head. “I was grousing, you know me. Not a serious bone in my body. It should be great fun.”

“You are the worst liar.” Roderick nudged him with his shoulder. “Why does your mother want you to go to this gathering?”

“Punishment for not finding a bride, first and foremost.” Lockhart sighed. “But also because someone in our family must be represented at the gathering. You see, my aunt and uncle are trying to match my cousin, Miss Clarissa Lockhart. ”

Roderick wrinkled his brow as he tried to recall his friend’s cousin. He could only find the brief image of a little girl with pigtails following Lockhart around when they were children. “I see. Was it her first Season?”

“No, her third.” Lockhart shook his head. “She isn’t quite a wallflower or a spinster yet, but I suppose that is the fear for the longer term. Hence the gathering where my aunt and uncle can better control who has access to her, and whether or not there are other eligible ladies in attendance to distract from her.”

Roderick stared at him for a moment. “Are you trying to convince me to come to match with her?”

“You?” Lockhart snorted out a laugh. “Don’t you worry. Not only would I never do that to you, I doubt you two would suit. Her obsession with propriety is legendary. She likely wouldn’t look twice at a renowned rake like yourself. And you would be bored to the roots of your hair after ten minutes alone with her.” He shook his head. “Don’t mistake me, she’s very kind and I adore her. But she’ll settle for some meek little country mouse of a man who will follow her lead when it comes to every proper address, thought and action.”

There was relief to that answer. Roderick hated it when ladies were thrown into his orbit. He truly believed that when he met the right one, it would hit him like a lightning bolt from above. He would know. They would know. One didn’t find that from forced arrangements.

“I can see you are beginning to agree to my request,” Lockhart said with a grin. “How about this—you come with me and spend a week and a half bearing a silly party, and then join me out at my estate for the real fun. We’ll bed some willing women and run the dogs and horses ragged chasing game and drink too much.”

Roderick shook his head with a laugh. “How could I deny you? Certainly, I’ll join you if you’d like. Assuming it’s agreeable to your aunt and uncle.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Lockhart waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll manage it. Then it’s decided.” He clapped Roderick on the shoulder. “ Now what do you say we abandon this gathering and go somewhere the ladies are a bit more receptive, eh? I could use some London fun before I resign myself to country manners.”

Roderick laughed as he followed his friend from the ballroom. Since he hadn’t found his lady love this Season, he saw no reason not to continue to indulge in the kind of fun Lockhart meant. One couldn’t be a reformed rake, after all, if one hadn’t been a rake to start with. So he’d continue to revel in his dissipation at places like the Donville Masquerade and shadowy corners of Covent Gardens until he found a lady who tempted him from it.

And he didn’t see that happening any time soon.

M iss Clarissa Lockhart was nervous as she paced her chamber, smoothing her white gown with her trembling hands, though she hadn’t a wrinkle in the soft fabric.

“This will not do,” she whispered to herself, and crossed to her bedside table. She snatched the book there and brought it to the fire where she could skim a few of the words better. Not that she needed to read them. She had pored over every word of this book, The Mirror of the Graces , since she had received it from her mother at the beginning of the Season. The pages of the etiquette manual were worn and dogeared from use, in fact.

“ Meek dignity ,” she read aloud. “ Chastened sportiveness and gentle seriousness .”

She drew a deep breath and set the book down before she turned to look at herself in the mirror one final time. She was wearing just the right thing, at least according to her book, a muslin gown in white, just as all her gowns were. It was pretty, but not too showy. It was supposed to represent her goodness and virtue. Her hair was done properly, as well, in a demure yet pretty chignon at the base of her neck. Her cheeks, which she was careful to never let sun touch without protection, had been rouged, oh so very lightly, with carmine in its powdered form. Yes, she looked…oh, how did the book put it? Wholesome . Yes, she looked wholesome.

“There is nothing else I can do,” she whispered to her reflection. She glanced at the clock on her mantel and sighed. It was time.

She left her chamber and took the winding route through the familiar halls of her childhood home. Over the years, she had watched the house become a little shabbier, though those things were covered up well enough for the gathering. It was up to her to raise the fortunes of her family. It always had been. She’d known that since she was twelve, almost a decade ago.

She reached the foyer and gave their longtime butler, Boulton, a smile. One she forced to fade more quickly than she might have once done. Her book had so many ideas on how friendly a lady should be to her servants, even ones she had adored since childhood.

“Your parents await you on the landing, Miss Lockhart,” Boulton said with a swift incline of his head before he handed over her hat.

She sighed as she placed it on her head and tied it at her chin. In years past, she might have forgone the headwear and greeted her guests more simply, but the sun was not to be borne by ladies’ skin, at least according to the author of her etiquette manual, so a hat it was.

She stepped outside and smiled at her parents. “Mama, Papa.”

“The first carriage is arriving,” her mother said with a nervous flutter to her hands. “Now, Clarissa, this is all for you, my dear. An opportunity I know you won’t throw away after all we’ve done for you.”

Clarissa drew in a deep breath as the weight of pressure came down on her shoulders and made her feel like she was sinking into the stone of the steps. “Yes, Mama. Of course, Mama.”

Luckily, there was no more time for further advice or nerve-wracking observation from either of her parents, because the first carriage stopped along the drive and servants rushed forward to assist the guests.

Clarissa forced a serene smile to her lips for the gentleman who exited the carriage and reached back to help a lady do the same. It was Viscount Crossworth and his mother. She felt a little relief at that, for at least the viscount was not ancient, nor entirely boring. Her mother and father had begun to shove her into the way of almost any eligible man around with a title or a fortune, regardless of disparate ages or situations. And though she had little choice but to honor their desires, she still hoped that whomever she matched with would be someone whose company she could bear for a lifetime.

The viscount had finished his greetings to her parents and stepped over to her. He had blonde hair and dark brown eyes that flitted over her face for a moment before he said, “Miss Lockhart. I’m so pleased to see you. I think the last time we met was at that garden fete mid-Season.”

She nodded. “You’ve a good memory, my lord. I think you are exactly right. I’m so pleased you could join us.”

“As am I. You recall my mother, yes?”

She spoke for a moment to Lady Crossworth, after which they entered the house to be escorted to their chambers. The guests arrived swiftly then, as if they’d all left London at the same time and caravanned their way to her doorstep. She greeted a marquess, this one older than her father, a few second sons with elevated positions, and another viscount before there was a lull in the arrivals.

She turned toward her parents. “You’ve found yourself quite the crop of eligible gentlemen for this gathering,” she said carefully, trying not to offend even as she pressed her question. “Do we not worry that it will make it too obvious that you are on the hunt for a marriage for me?”

Her father shot her a side look. “Any lady worth her salt is always on the hunt for a marriage, Clarissa.”

Her mother nodded. “At any rate, it won’t all be gentlemen for you. Your cousin George will be here. And I invited the Earl and Countess of Ramsbury.”

Clarissa’s smile was more genuine now. “Oh, that’s lovely. I saw them at the opera at the beginning of the Season and congratulated them on their marriage. I do enjoy the countess’s company so much. ”

“And now that she isn’t a spinster who could bring you down a peg, you can mine that friendship for the connections it could bring you,” Mrs. Lockhart insisted with a pat of her hand.

Clarissa pursed her lips and turned her face away. How she hated the mercenary aspects of her parents’ husband hunt. It had all grown all the worse in the last year, when Clarissa staggered into her third Season and they seemed to fear that meant she was failing.

Sometimes she felt the same, despite still being invited to every event and asked to dance by many gentlemen. Marriage was the only mark of success that mattered, and it was hard not to feel the sand of her life being pulled away, rushing her toward the next step when she would be bound to some man who would elevate her parents…and herself. Though she was an afterthought.

“And I think that is your cousin now,” her mother said with a wave at the horses that were coming down the lane. “But who is with him?”

Clarissa lifted on her tiptoes to peer down the curve in the drive. Yes, it was George out front, she recognized her beloved cousin’s gait on his mount, but the second man was not known to her. “Perhaps one of the other gentlemen, come from London on a horse rather than in a carriage?” she suggested.

But as they neared, Mrs. Lockhart lifted a hand to her chest. “Oh, that is the Earl of Kirkwood, I believe. I didn’t think to invite him, myself. It’s well known he isn’t looking for a bride.”

Clarissa wrinkled her brow. “You didn’t invite him and yet he arrives with my cousin?” she repeated, and looked toward the rapidly approaching gentlemen again. “That is very rude, to come to a house party uninvited.”

Certainly her handbook would have said so. She narrowed her gaze as the men grew ever closer.

“Well, he’s rich and powerful,” Mr. Lockhart said with a quick glare in her direction. “Imagine if you could land the unlandable! You were certainly raise all fortunes by doing so.”

Clarissa pursed her lips as the men pulled their horses to a stop, each swung down and handed over the reins to waiting grooms. She examined the earl, especially. He was well-favored, of course. Tall, of lanky build and with dark hair that looked a little mussed from the road since he didn’t wear a hat. His skin was slightly tanned, probably from the travel and when he looked up the stairs with a bored expression, she could not help but notice the finest dark green eyes she’d ever encountered. Ones that slid over her parents and then settled on her for a long moment before he had the audacity to wink at her as he followed her cousin up the stairs.

She huffed out a breath. Rich and powerful or not, this man already had two strikes against him for absolute rudeness. First to arrive without invitation and second to dare to engage himself with a lady he didn’t even know.

“My dearest Uncle Marcus and Aunt Violet, I’m pleased to see you both,” George said as he shook her father’s hand and bussed her mother’s cheek. “I hope you do not mind that I have come with a friend.”

Clarissa saw Lord Kirkwood glance at George swiftly as her mother stepped forward. “Oh no, not at all! We’re so pleased you have increased our party by one so lauded as the Earl of Kirkwood.”

Kirkwood bent his head over her mother’s hand as he lifted it to his lips. It was a showy act of chivalry, but it didn’t ring entirely true. “I see my reputation proceeds me,” he drawled. “Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart. Your grounds are spectacular—I was admiring them as soon as we entered the estate.”

“Couldn’t stop waxing poetic about them,” George agreed. Then he turned to Clarissa. “And there is the lady of the hour. Clarissa!”

Clarissa didn’t have to force her smile for her cousin. He was a rapscallion, but she still adored him. Once upon a time her mother had thought she might be matched with him. After all he, too, would one day be an earl. Happily that notion had passed. George was more like a brother to her and he was wild as the day was long. A match would have been miserable.

“Dearest George,” she said, and took his hand with both of hers. “You look a fright. ”

He laughed as he reached up to smooth his hair. “Do I? Well, that is only because I’m standing to one of the prettiest ladies in all the country.”

Clarissa almost rolled her eyes, but then stopped herself. The Mirror of the Graces would never approve such behavior. Even less so in front of a stranger who was her better.

As if he sensed her thoughts about the earl, George turned toward him. “Have you had the pleasure of meeting my dear cousin, Kirkwood?”

“I haven’t,” the earl said, and stepped away from her mother. He smiled at her and she returned the expression with the smallest one of her own she could manage. She still thought this man abominably rude for inviting himself to a party and she couldn’t let it go without some small consequence.

“The Earl of Kirkwood, I present Miss Clarissa Lockhart. My favorite cousin,” George said.

Kirkwood reached out to take her hand and for a moment Clarissa thought he might lift it to his lips as he had done with her mother. Instead she shook it briefly and then withdrew. She thought his lips quirked a little in amusement, which she equally ignored.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord,” she said. “Though unexpected, indeed.”

She saw her mother glare at her over the earl’s shoulder and so she added a little curtsey to her comment out of respect to his rank. Mrs. Lockhart stepped forward. “George you will be in your usual chamber, and my lord, I’ll give you the one just down the hall so you two friends may be close. Let me follow you in and tell our butler of the addition.”

She motioned toward the door and George took her arm to lead her in. Kirkwood held Clarissa’s stare a moment and then smiled. “I look forward to getting to know you better, Miss Lockhart. Good afternoon.”

He followed her cousin and mother inside and Clarissa glared after them. When her father touched her arm, she jumped, for she hadn’t realized he had moved closer as she focused on the departing party.

“You’ll wrinkle if you look so cross,” Mr. Lockhart said.

She bit back a little retort. One was to always receive advice from one’s parents with deference, after all. Or so her book stated. She drew a breath. “Thank you, Father. You are likely correct. And I suppose if you and Mama aren’t upset by the earl’s unexpected arrival, then I shouldn’t be either.”

“No, not when he could be the best potential match here,” her father said, and rubbed his hands together.

“But as Mama said when he approached, he doesn’t seek a bride,” Clarissa mused as she returned her attention to the drive and the next vehicle that was rumbling down the packed sand lane.

“By hook or by crook, every man of his rank must marry.”

Clarissa glanced at her father. His eyes were lit up with plans. Even though the earl was a known rake, even though he would be so bold and uncouth. Even though surely a match between them could be nothing but dreadful. She could already tell they were polar opposites, more likely to be enemies than fall in love. Not that she expected love. Marriages were meant to be meetings of name and fortune, but she also hoped temperament and shared values.

But she didn’t say any of that to her father. She couldn’t because it would be going against what propriety demanded in a good daughter. And because she was interrupted by the next in a parade of gentlemen meant to be tempted by what she could bring to a union in her comportment and connection.

But the threat of matching with someone like the Earl of Kirkwood made her focus more fully on the matters at hand. She would just have to make herself even more tempting to the men who did align with her values in life. Then her parents couldn’t be so foolish as to foist her off on someone frivolous and inappropriate. Handsome or not.