Becoming Countess

  Becoming Countess

  By Shae Mallak

  Acknowledgements

  I extend my gratitude to those who assisted me in the process of completing this novella, including (but not limited to) Lori Brown and Melissa Janulis for revisions and editing as well as Tod and Patty Salfrank for their support and encouragement. There are many more but I cannot possibly name them all here.

  Thank you!

  BECOMING COUNTESS

  Copyright © 2018 by Shae Mallak

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Photo courtesy of iStock, credit to Grape_vein.

  Cover design and formatting by Megan Salfrank

  1.

  Emma paced her bedroom until she thought she might wear a hole in the floor and fall straight through into the dining room. She would normally laugh at the idea of falling onto the large banquet table, her skirts over her head and landing in the pudding or perhaps on top of the smoked pig. The chefs worked all day to ready the grand feast waiting below her. But her humor left along with the winking night sky. Now the sun was risen and shining bright, mocking her dark, sour mood.

  "For heaven's sake, child, stop pacing and sit down. Wearing yourself out will not change anything," her mother admonished from her chair.

  The woman sat proudly, her back straight and chin tilted in the air. She had all the grace of a duchess and Emma always thought it was a tragedy that her mother had settled for the meager title of baroness. It was Emma who would marry into a grand title. It was unfortunate for her betrothed, Earl Garrick, that Emma inherited neither her mother's grace nor her beauty. Instead, she bore her father's angular features and wide waistline. The only traits she received from Baroness Lummis was her golden hair and her emerald eyes. But even they did not seem so beautiful, somehow, when Emma bore them.

  "I still don't understand," Emma snapped, ignoring her mother's advise as she kept pacing. "What does the earl want with me? Surely there are better matches for him than me!"

  "Don't you mind about the politics, Emma," Baroness Lummis replied. She waved her hand in the air like she was shooing the matter out the window. "Sit. Lily will be here momentarily and she's so excited for the wedding," she admonished. "If you can't be congenial for me, at least do it for her."

  Lily was Emma's young cousin and had lived at Montrellis since she was a babe. Her father died during an attack on their lakeside home and Lily and her mother, Emma's aunt Lady Killian, fled to find safety with family. The little girl was equally delightful and annoying and Emma loved her like she was her little sister rather than merely a cousin.

  "I suppose I could pretend," Emma conceded. "For Lily's sake."

  "Good," her mother nodded approval. "I really don't know what your issue is, Emma," she sighed. "You should be honored by such a match! The earl is a fine man and a wealthy one at that. The daughter of a baron is lucky to—"

  "I know, I know," Emma groaned, plunking down onto the vanity seat. She rolled her eyes at her mother's familiar lecture. "I am lucky to marry so well. My marriage to Earl Garrick not only is in my best interest, but my family's as well. Through my union, Lily will find a splendid husband someday. I know, Mama, you've said it to me a hundred times!"

  "Then why do you continue to sulk?" her mother asked sharply.

  "It's...it's just not what I expected, I guess," Emma said. "A little country manor, maybe, with a kind husband and a life of contentment."

  "Who is to say you won't be content with the earl?" the baroness asked. She scowled down her nose at her daughter in admonishment. "Earl Garrick is a fine man."

  "You said that already," Emma muttered. "Everyone keeps saying that. 'He is a fine man.' They say nothing of his demeanor. Is he compassionate? Shrewd? Intelligent? Prone to fits of anger? No one says a thing!"

  "What does his demeanor have anything to do with it?" her mother scoffed. "He is a wealthy nobleman, with a strong hold on his lands and fiercely loyal to the king. He will protect you and care for you and your children. That is all that matters."

  "What of compatibility?" Emma prodded. "I'd take a dangerous life of happiness over a safe life of misery!"

  "Don't be foolish," her mother sighed, waving away the subject again. "Marriage is always miserable. There's no avoiding it. You'd better set aside your childish, romantic thoughts, Emma. A woman must be practical and clever."

  "I am neither of those things," Emma replied. "You know that."

  "Don't sell yourself short," her mother said. "You are intelligent. You've been allowed an education, which is more than most women in the kingdom, noble or not. Marry the earl, give him a son, and then you can do whatever you wish. Retire to a little country home if you please," she waved dismissively.

  "Endure misery for a few years in order to get what I want," Emma translated. "Is that what you did?" she asked. "Is that what we are? The misery on your path to what you truly want?"

  "And what is it you think I want?" her mother challenged. Emma noted she didn't try to protest her accusation. It hurt realizing her mother only thought to use her for her own purposes.

  "I don't know," Emma replied. "More money. More land. More power. A seat at court. The ear of the king. Whatever it is normal people want."

  "But you are not normal."

  It was a statement rather than a question, and it cut deep. There was never any great love between Emma and her mother, but she rather hoped her mother would defend her rather than put her down.

  "I never have been, Mama," Emma said, doing her best to keep her voice even and without a hint of the sorrow that was threatening to spill over onto her cheeks. There wasn't a moment for a response, however, as little Lily burst through the door into the bedroom a moment later with an exhilarated look on her face.

  "Emmy! Emmy!" Lily cried, throwing out her arms as she rushed toward her cousin. Emma embraced her with a smile, although somewhat forced. Lily didn't notice, already gone from her arms and spinning in delighted circles around the room. "Oh, it's all so wonderful! I can't wait until I get married!"

  "You have a while yet to wait," the baroness said with amusement.

  "It feels like ages!" Lily sighed, throwing herself onto Emma's bed dramatically. "As soon as I am sixteen, I am marrying the first man who asks me!"

  "He won't ask you," Emma commented snidely. "He'll ask your mother. Or the baron."

  "I don't care," Lily replied firmly, sitting up again, bouncing a little on the mattress. "I just want to get married! Everyone makes such a fuss over a bride!" she giggled. "The pretty flowers everywhere, the big feast! And the clothes!" She sighed dreamily, clutching her hands to her heart. "Oh! The beautiful clothes!" Her eyes suddenly went wide and she jumped from the bed and rushed over to Emma. "Emmy! You're not wearing your dress!"

  "Not yet."

  "Why not?" Lily cried like it was the worst thing she could imagine. "When I get married I will wear my dress all day and feel like a princess!"

  "And you will look like one too, my dear," the baroness told her. "But Emma cannot get dressed until Marie is finished downstairs."

  The low number of servants at Montrellis was a sore subject for the baroness. When Emma was younger, it seemed the fortress was always teeming with people hurrying everywhere at once. As the years passed, the servants slowly disappeared one by one until only a minimal staff remained. Everyone was often doing multiple jobs in order to have the place running semi-smoothly. With the wedding and the addition of the earl and his family, along with the guards and servants they brought, Montrellis was considerably busier than usual and yet there still seemed to be an endless shortage of help.

  Normally Emma did not bother with a maid to help her dress or do her hair like the fancy noblewomen of court, but her wedding day was an unavoidabl
e exception. After Marie finished with the baroness that morning she hurried downstairs to help in the kitchen with the feast.

  "The ceremony isn't until this evening," Emma said. "There is plenty of time. Besides, the dress may be beautiful, Lily, but it is incredibly uncomfortable!"

  "Not any more so than the usual gowns of a noblewoman," her mother retorted. "You will be a countess. You'll be expected to wear dresses more fashionable than..." she peered down her nose at her daughter in disapproval. "your glorified servant's frock."

  "At least I can breathe in it," Emma snapped back with a scowl.

  "And run and climb trees and chase goats through the fields!" Lily added with a delighted giggle.

  "You chased after goats?" the baroness cried indignantly.

  "They escaped," Emma defended. "So I helped Vinny catch them."

  "They didn't escape," Lily laughed. "You opened the gate!"

  "Lily!" Emma exclaimed at the girl's betrayal.

  "Emma!" her mother scowled in further disapproval.

  "It was just a bit of fun," Emma muttered. The argument was cut short by the loud growling of her stomach. She wrapped an arm around her belly and moaned a little. "I'm starved," she said aloud, despite its obviousness.

  "There won't be anyone free," her mother sighed, rising from her chair. "I'll bring a tray for us," she promised, and strode purposely from the bedroom as graceful as ever, despite the menial task she set out to do.

  The baroness's absence was filled with the entrance of Lady Killian who stumbled into the room with a harried look on her face. She was so entirely different from the baroness it was hard for Emma to believe the two women were sisters. Where her mother was graceful and fair, Lady Killian was clumsy, freckle-faced, and her hair was a darker blonde that was almost brown.

  "Lily! Goodness, there you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

  "I've been here!" Lily said proudly, standing straight and proper next to Emma with a wide grin.

  "I see that," Lady Killian huffed. "You've already wrinkled your dress trouncing around everywhere," she sighed. "Goodness, child, do you ever stop moving?" The question was rhetorical, but Lily answered anyway.

  "When I sleep I do," she replied honestly.

  "Not even then," Emma commented with a chuckle. She'd shared a bed with Lily a few times and the girl tossed and turned all night, even kicking her in the shin once.

  Lady Killian was wringing her hands, looking as nervous as Emma felt. She always felt closer to her aunt. Somehow, she was more like Lady Killian and Lily than her own immediate family. Her aunt was warmer, too, when she wasn't fraught with worry over her rambunctious daughter. Whenever Emma was upset, it was Lady Killian she usually sought for comfort instead of her own mother. The baroness would merely tap her under the chin and tell her to be lady and stop crying.

  "You should sit down," Emma offered, gesturing to the empty chair her mother just vacated.

  "I'm too nervous to sit," Lady Killian admitted, but sank into the chair anyway, her hands still moving in her lap, one twisting around the other.

  "Why in heavens are you nervous?" Emma asked curiously. "Do you want to marry the earl instead, then?" she teased.

  "Goodness, no," her aunt balked, then laughed when she realized her niece was joking. "Oh, Emmy, I'm nervous for you," she said honestly. "I want you to be happy."

  Emma's smile contradicted the tears that wet her cheeks. It was heartening to hear that someone at least wanted more for her. Emma left her seat and knelt on the floor at her aunt's feet, laying her head in her lap. Lady Killian gently smoothed her hair with a sniff of her own.

  "I can still hardly believe you're old enough to be married," Lady Killian said. "When we first came here, you were hardly more than Lily's age. It seems like yesterday and yet an eternity," she murmured.

  "And I'm still not ready for it," Emma sighed. "What if he's horrible?" she asked, lifting her head. "What if he's mean? Or dull? Or – or drinks too much?" she asked. "I'll be miserable!"

  "I hear he's a fine man," her aunt replied.

  "Everyone keeps saying that," Emma grumbled. "I wish I could see him, at least. Before I'm walking down the aisle."

  "Why can't you?" Lily asked. The girl had clamored back onto the bed and was sitting cross-legged, her pink skirt bunched around her thighs. Even her pantaloons had little pink bows on them and it made Emma smile.

  "It's not done," Lady Killian replied. "It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding."

  "But he won't be seeing her," Lily protested. "She'll be seeing him! That's not bad luck, is it?"

  "Well, no...not that I know of," the woman admitted reluctantly. Lily popped up eagerly, standing on the mattress in her excitement.

  "Then we can go find him!" Lily declared, jumping on the mattress. "Oh!" she clapped her hands. "It'll be a great adventure! So romantic, spying on the groom before the wedding!" She dropped back down onto the bed, bouncing on her bottom with a giggle.

  "I don't see what is so romantic about it," Emma remarked. "But I would like to get a look at him, at least..." Maybe, she thought, she could get a glimpse of the sort of man he was by looking at him. People said a man's soul was found in his eyes.

  "It's really not proper," Lady Killian protested with a worried frown.

  "But it would make me feel so much better about everything," Emma begged. "I would be much more at ease, and then you too could relax, knowing I am content." She gave her aunt her best pleading look.

  "Alright," Lady Killian sighed. "A peek."

  "Yay!" Lily clapped her hands and jumped off the bed, landing on the floor with a loud thud. "Husband hunting!" she cried gleefully. Emma and Lady Killian both laughed at her enthusiasm.

  "Even if he does see me," Emma said, standing, "It wouldn't really count since I'm not in the wedding dress yet," she pointed out.

  "I suppose," her aunt replied, still a little hesitant. "But don't be running up to him or anything. Just a peek and then we all return."

  "Just a peek," Emma promised.

  2.

  "Oh, this is so exciting!" Lily cried. "Where do we look first?" she asked. "The hall? The chapel? The stable, maybe?"

  "Where does an earl go before getting married?" Emma asked, looking to her aunt.

  "Your father is in the library," Lady Killian answered. "Perhaps he is with him."

  "To the library!" Lily cried, and swung open the door and started running down the hall, Emma and Lady Killian following at a slower pace.

  The library possessed very few books in actuality, but her father claimed that all important men had libraries and so, thus, he was to have one as well. A shelf of books was erected on one wall and the rest of the room was filled with her father's varying interests. Over the years he dabbled in many, and the room became a strange conglomeration of knick knacks and forgotten hobbies. Emma hardly ever went into the room, always feeling out of place in her father's domain.

  The three of them crept down the hall as quietly as they could with Lily in the lead. They stopped beyond the closed parlor door while Lily listened for anyone inside. She shook her head, and the three of them continued to tiptoe toward the library doors. Emma almost laughed when she turned to see her aunt with her hands over her mouth as if her hands alone would keep her silent. Merriment danced in the woman's eyes, and Emma grinned back. It was the sort of fun Emma was used to, sneaking around Montrellis on little adventures with Lily or discovering secrets of her own.

  "The door is open," Lily whispered rather loudly, pointing to the library entrance. Emma and Lady Killian both refocused their attention. As Lily said, one of the double doors was ajar, held open by a footman just out of view. Emma felt panic seize her as they waited. Lily stood just beyond the door frame, and Emma inched closer to listen to the conversation.

  "I commend you, Garrick," Emma's father said in a loud, robust voice. Emma guessed the baron was drinking merrily with the other men, his words slightly slurred already despite the early hour. br />
  "For what?" came the reply. The voice was deep, but steady and clear. Emma shivered, thinking of the man that belonged to that voice and how she would be married to him by midnight.

  "For being so commendable!" her father replied cheerfully. Emma was embarrassed for her father.

  "You make no sense, Noland," another voice declared. It was deep as well but rough and scratchy like Vinny's beard when he forgot to shave. "Pray, tell me why my nephew is so commendable." It was the earl's uncle, Lord Farley. Emma saw him from a distance when the party arrived; he was short and round with a head full of gray hair. She rather hoped the earl did not take after his uncle.

  "For marrying my daughter, of course!" the baron cried.

  "It's hardly as if I had a choice in the matter," the earl replied, a dangerous edge in his voice. "Succumbing to blackmail is hardly commendable, I'd say."

  Emma and Lady Killian both gasped, Lily frowning in confusion.

  "Come away," Lady Killian whispered, plucking at Emma's shoulder. Emma nodded, taking a step backward.

  "No, I want to see him!" Lily whined softly. She leaned around the corner to the silent protests of her mother and cousin. She gasped and scurried back to her mother as someone exited the library.

  Emma was frozen to her spot as she watched the rotund uncle leave the room, glancing at the three of them coolly, then striding off in the other direction.

  "Let's go," Lady Killian whispered. But someone else was leaving the library, and Emma was rooted to her spot, torn between her curiosity and her fear.

  A moment later, a tall stranger stepped through the doorway to follow after his uncle. Emma's eyes went as wide as Lily's as she stared at him. His shoulders were broad, nearly as wide as the single opened doorway, and his muscles were well defined, even through the thick cloth of his jacket, which was tailored close to his frame. He was already dressed in his wedding attire, looking as fashionable and as wealthy as royalty. No wonder her mother was so eager for the marriage to take place.

  His hair was black and combed neatly back and held by a slender blue ribbon that matched his jacket. His jaw was clenched tight and Emma worried she would be getting a temperamental husband. Lily sighed dreamily next to her, catching the earl's attention. His eyes were icy blue and just as cold when he turned his gaze to them. His gaze was full of contempt and Emma shivered.