Becoming Countess Page 2

  Lady Killian's little tugs at her sleeve became a heavy-handed pull in the other direction, catching Emma off balance. She stumbled after her aunt down the corridor and around the corner. Lily skipped after them, but not before she gave a little wave to the earl, oblivious of the foul mood evident on his face.

  "I should never have let you do this," Lady Killian mumbled as she dragged Emma back to her bedroom. Baroness Lummis was waiting for them inside, a tray of food sitting on a little table.

  3.

  "Where have you been?" the baroness demanded, scowling at Emma and then at her sister.

  "We saw the earl!" Lily answered brightly before either of them could stop her. The baroness's gaze was like hot daggers shot in the direction of Emma and Lady Killian. "He's so handsome!" Lily sighed, clasping her hands to her heart. "Oh! Emmy! You are so lucky!" She spun in a giddy circle.

  "He couldn't have known who I was," Emma said in defense.

  "But he will!" the baroness cried. "Emmalin Beatrice Lummis! How could you be so careless!"

  Emma flinched at the use of her full name. It was rare that it was ever used which made it all the worse when her mother had cause to do so.

  "He's going to be disappointed one way or another," Emma retorted. "It's not like it will make much of a difference."

  "That's not the point," the baroness seethed. Again, Emma noted her mother didn't refute the claim of disappointment. "It isn't proper! And Vicky, you encouraged this?" she asked her sister.

  "I didn't encourage them," Lady Killian denied. "But Emma and Lily wanted to have a glimpse of the earl and the splendor downstairs, and I thought it better to go with them then to let them run about unattended."

  Neither Emma or Lady Killian dared to mention the earl's comment about blackmail, figuring it would only cause more trouble and anger.

  "I'm starved," Emma declared, crossing to the tray and grabbing a fluffy golden bread roll and dipping it into the bowl of soup. She really was quite hungry and the roll was gone in two bites.

  It seemed to be distraction enough for Baroness Lummis to drop the subject, and the four of them munched on the light meal while Lily chattered on about the dreamy Earl Garrick and her own future wedding. Soon after they finished, Marie arrived to help Emma dress. Lady Killian and Lily left, leaving Emma feeling bereft and lonely.

  "Are you satisfied now?" her mother asked as Marie laced Emma's corset.

  "Satisfied about wha-ah!" She sucked in a breath as Marie tugged forcefully.

  "Now that you've seen him," the baroness said. "I told you he was a fine man."

  "He is very handsome," Emma admitted softly. Marie tugged several more times as Emma's mind swirled with thoughts and emotions.

  There was no denying the man was attractive. It was the very thing that bothered her. If he was so handsome and so wealthy, already claiming his inheritance with the passing of his father, why was he marrying her? He could have any number of girls—noble, gentry, or otherwise. He certainly deserved a prettier wife on his arm than Emma. He mentioned blackmail. Was her father blackmailing the earl into marrying her – and what was the secret he felt so compelled to keep hidden he was forced to marry the plain, chubby, clumsy daughter of a baron? Disappointed would be putting it kindly.

  There would be no possible way, Emma felt, to find contentment under the circumstances. Her mother was right after all. Marriage was misery. In a few years, after siring an heir, she and the earl would both be glad to part from each other. She wouldn't be surprised if he sent her away the moment she conceived. Or sooner. And, she thought, he would likely spend all his time away at court with some pretty lover, both of them laughing about his absurd wife. All the better, Emma determined. Less she had to see of him.

  Emma leaned forward so Marie could slip the large skirt over her head, fastening it tightly around her waist. It flared wide on either side from the wide cage attached to her corset, the weight of the skirt making the reeds dig into her hips despite the little cushions there. Marie smoothed out the skirt then went for the bodice.

  The baroness watched the proceedings from her chair, making no comment except a few humming noises. But whether it was in approval or not, Emma wasn't sure. If history was any indicator, it was likely hums of disapproval.

  Emma had to admit that the wedding dress was divine. The ivory silk was pristine, embroidered all over with little golden birds in different poses. Ivory lace ruffled around her neckline and the cuffs of her sleeves, and a necklace of pearls and diamonds circled her throat.

  "I wore these at my own wedding," her mother said softly as she fixed the clasp. Emma didn't know what to say, so she said nothing.

  Marie was quite talented with hair styling and Emma enjoyed watching her in the mirror as she fussed, pinned, and curled her golden hair beautifully atop her head, weaving pearls and gold cording among the curls and braids. When she finished, Emma blinked at her reflection dumbly, hardly recognizing herself. She looked like a princess.

  Her stomach fluttered nervously and Emma took small short breaths to calm herself. She couldn't have taken a full, deep breath if she tried with how tight Marie and cinched her. It was deceiving, she thought, making herself look pretty and slender only for him to discover the truth later, after the deed was done. A cruel lie, she thought gloomily.

  The sky shifted from blue to pink, orange, and violet hues as the sun dipped lower toward the western horizon. It was time. She was comforted only by the thought that, when the wedding was over, it would be night and the twinkling stars and shining moon would be out to greet her. She loved the night sky; it always had a way of calming and consoling her when she was troubled.

  The walk to the chapel took twice as long as usual, Emma unable to exert herself as much because of her apparel. Her mother walked beside her with Marie trailing behind them. As Lily claimed earlier, everything was decorated with flowers. They were wrapped around the banister, hanging from the ceiling and over doorways, and arranged in so many vases all over the place Emma couldn't count them all. The display spilled out into the courtyard and up to the chapel doors, where Lady Killian and Lily waited for them, both beaming at her.

  "You are beautiful," Lady Killian said, kissing her niece affectionately on the cheek.

  "You look like a princess!" Lily cried with a bright smile.

  "Thank you," Emma said to both of them.

  The women entered the chapel, joining the baron in the small foyer, lingering only a few moments until the baroness nodded at the footmen to open the doors into the sanctuary.

  Lily went down the aisle first followed by her mother, then the baron escorted his wife to the end of the aisle, standing aside and looking back at Emma expectantly.

  Emma didn't move. Everyone was staring at her—including the earl, his mother, and his uncle at the end of the aisle, not to mention her own family. Her mother was glaring at her and Lady Killian was wringing her hands nervously again.

  It was Lily who came to Emma's rescue, skipping back down the aisle and reaching out to hold her hand.

  "Are you scared?" Lily asked a little too loudly. Emma swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. "It's okay," the little girl declared. "I'll walk with you." Emma's grateful smile was genuine. Hand in hand, Lily and Emma walked down the aisle together.

  The earl was frowning at her when they reached him. Emma did what her mother would do and tilted her chin in the air proudly, though she hardly felt confident or graceful enough to pull it off. Lily kept hold of her hand until the priest started talking and Lady Killian whispered to her daughter to come sit down.

  The ceremony was long and drawn out, the priest chattering on longer than usual about the sanctity of marriage and roles of husbands and wives. Respect and Obey. No mention of love or happiness or even liking each other. The earl stood beside her but didn't touch her until he slid the ring onto her finger, his hands warm against her own. The frosted pearl glinted in the candlelight, reminding Emma of the moon when it was at its fullest. Then they were man and wife and Lily was clapping excitedly from her seat, the most exuberant of all their guests.

  The bride and groom led everyone back to the dining room where the wedding feast awaited. The earl sat in the place of honor at the head of the banquet table, his new wife sitting opposite him at the other end. Emma was glad for the distance between them, not sure what she would say to him if she were sitting next to him. At her end, she was near Lady Killian and Lily, who kept her pleasantly distracted through the meal. When it finished, the ladies didn't linger long, letting the men have their fill of drinks while the baroness and Lady Killian escorted Emma upstairs to her bedroom, where they were joined by Marie.

  Emma was glad to be able to breathe again with the loss of the extravagant dress, but shook as she thought about what was to come. She was a wife – the earl's wife. He would come to her bed that night and expect... she shivered.

  4.

  "Close the window, Vicky," the baroness told her sister.

  "No, please," Emma protested, halting her aunt's hand. "Leave them open. I want to see the sky."

  "You don't need the whole of Montrellis listening beneath your window," her mother admonished. "Close them," she ordered again.

  Emma blanched at the implications of her mother's words. She knew the basics of what was to transpire between her and the earl. Lady Killian gently explained it to her a few months before. It sounded awful and uncomfortable and she would be grateful when it was all over. Maybe after he left she would sneak out and lay under the stars one last time before they left for the earl's home at Demmroch and she would be expected to behave like a countess. Countesses didn't sleep under the stars in fields like common folk. But Emma did and she yearned to be outside, gazing up at the night sky.

  The ni
ghtgown they gave her to wear was thin and sheer with a low-dipping neckline sewn with pearls. She would have to change for sure before she snuck outside. She would put her old dress back on and use the old brown cloak hidden in the back of the closet. And her good boots. Not the fancy slippers and heels her mother insisted she have for her life as countess.

  Lost in thought about her escape, she didn't realize Marie, the baroness, and Lady Killian all left, leaving candles lit about the room and the fireplace crackling. She stood awkwardly in the middle of her bedroom, uncertain what she was supposed to do next. Was she supposed to wait in the bed for him? Or be seated by the fireplace? Her stomach twisted and she crossed to the window, pushing it open for fresh air and so she could gaze up at the sky. She heard the door open and close again behind her, but she continued to stare at the moon.

  "It's a lovely night," the earl commented. The casual remark surprised Emma, turning and gawking at him. He joined her at the window, gazing out. "It's beautiful land here," he said.

  "What?" Emma blinked a few times, then refocused her gaze on the shadowy hills. "I suppose it is," she agreed. "I never really noticed, I guess."

  "Then what were you staring at?" he asked curiously.

  "The sky," she answered honestly.

  He tilted his head up. "Like diamonds on velvet," he murmured.

  "Pardon?"

  "Diamonds on velvet," he repeated. "It's how Juli—" he faltered and started again. "I heard the sky described that way once," he said instead. Emma wondered about the mysterious person he didn't want to talk about. Perhaps she was his lover, waiting for him to hurry back to her and steal away from his wife.

  "Would you be honest with me?" she asked suddenly. "If I asked you a question?" He thought about it before answering right away, but did eventually agree. She thought about asking him if he had a lover, but refrained. "Why is my father blackmailing you?" she asked instead.

  Earl Garrick strode angrily away from the window, banging his fist fiercely against the stones of the fireplace, a few bits of mortar crumbling to the floor. Emma flinched but watched him carefully, waiting to see if he would refuse to answer after all or start shouting in a fit of rage.

  "I'm sorry," she apologized, though she really wasn't. "But I overheard earlier and I need to know."

  "Why?" he grunted.

  "I need to know why you married me. When you could have anyone. I am hardly a prize," she scoffed. "I am not beautiful or thin or graceful or anything a countess should be."

  He turned to her with a look of surprise on his face. "Of course you are beautiful," he replied. Emma didn't believe him. "Why would you think otherwise?" he asked.

  "Because I know beauty when I see it," she retorted, "and it isn't me."

  "You're wrong," he said.

  Emma shook her head. "You don't know the real me," she warned him. "This—" she gestured to her hair and the fancy nightgown, "is all a facade created by my mother and my aunt to make you think I am something I am not."

  "And why would they want me to think that?" he asked.

  "To make you think you are getting a good deal," she shrugged, then narrowed her eyes at him. "Why is my father blackmailing you?" she asked again, realizing he avoided the question.

  "Because he discovered a secret I would rather keep hidden," the earl replied vaguely.

  "That much is obvious," Emma sighed, rolling her eyes. "Why can't you tell me? I won't tell anyone my husband's secrets. That much at least I can promise you."

  The earl, however, shook his head. "How do I know I can trust you?" he asked.

  "I will tell you one of my secrets, then," she promised boldly. She wasn't sure why she wanted to know so badly, but she did.

  "You can if you want," he shrugged, easing into the chair her mother perched in earlier. "I won't promise to do likewise."

  Emma chuckled, moving to sit at the vanity and pull the pins and pearls from her hair. She felt around with her fingers for them as she spoke. "Fine. But maybe it will make you trust me a little," she said. "Alright. Here is my secret. When I was thirteen years old, I stole a horse from the stables and snuck out of Montrellis in the middle of the night. I rode out far into the farmers' fields until I could barely see the tip of the fortress. There is a little stream that cuts through some of the land to the north, and that's where I went. I stripped down to nothing and swam in the stream in the moonlight. It was magical.

  "Then one of the farmers caught sight of my horse and started shooting his rifle – more to scare off vagabonds than to really hurt anyone – but I was so scared I bolted out of the stream and climbed back onto my horse without even bothering with my clothes! I rode that way all the way to Montrellis."

  "How did you get back inside without anyone seeing you?" he asked, clearly amused.

  "We don't have many guards here," she said. "Just a lone watchman on the wall. I came around the other side so he wouldn't see me and snuck back in the way I came out. I tried to steal a horse blanket in the stables to cover myself and was caught by Vinny, our gamekeeper. He promised never to ask where I'd been if I promised never to get caught again without my clothes. We've both kept our promises."

  "Well, that is quite the tale," the earl laughed as Emma finished with the last of the ornaments in her hair. She shook it out to be sure there were no more pins hiding, raking her hand through it several times before starting to braid it. "But that isn't a secret," the earl said.

  "Pardon?" Emma's hands stilled, staring at the earl in the mirror.

  "It's a story, not a secret," he clarified. "Though a rather funny one."

  "Of course it's a secret," she protested. "To this day, my mother has no idea what happened to that dress or my blue cloak. She thinks it was pilfered by a disgruntled servant."

  "And you never thought to correct her?" the earl asked curiously.

  "And admit to my mother – the epitome of gentility and modesty – that I was skinny dipping in the middle of the night and snuck back home naked? No, thank you!"

  "And what of the blamed servant?" he asked.

  "She didn't blame a specific servant," Emma replied. "We had so many that left, she thought it could've been any of them."

  "Why did the servants leave?" he asked curiously.

  "No money to pay them I expect," Emma shrugged.

  "Now that is a secret," the earl declared, pointing his finger at her emphatically.

  "I didn't realize it was," Emma admitted. "I thought it was common knowledge."

  "Your parents hide it well," he replied coolly.

  "Was that part of the bargain?" Emma asked next. Earl Garrick frowned at her, not understanding. "My father, did he blackmail you for money too?" she asked.

  "He did, as a matter of fact," the earl admitted. "A hefty sum, I'd say."

  "It must be some secret you're hiding," Emma whistled. Having finished her braid, she turned in the seat to face her husband. "You really won't tell me?" she asked again. He shook his head, making Emma sigh in frustration. "Is it about a woman?" she prodded.

  "What makes you say that?" he asked with a deep frown.

  "Just a guess," Emma shrugged. "A man as handsome as you is bound to have a few women falling at his feet and women, in my experience, are troublesome." All the women she knew, anyway.

  The earl laughed heartily at her comment. "Indeed," he agreed. "Women can be very troublesome. But they can also be wonderful."

  "So it's a woman you love?" she guessed. His eyebrows rose in question. "The troublesome one you don't want anyone to know about," she prompted.

  "No," he denied. "It's not a woman I love. Not the way you are thinking, anyway," he said. "My heart is unattached."

  "Your heart is unattached but your body is married," Emma murmured. "I know the feeling," she added softly.

  "Well, we are not quite fully man and wife yet," he pointed out. Emma blushed, but didn't say anything. The earl stood and went to her, kneeling in front of her and covering her hands in his. "Emmalin," he whispered.