An Unexpected Countess. Laurie Benson

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An Unexpected Countess - Laurie  Benson


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ruined, never to grace a ballroom or garden party,’ she admitted wistfully. It was so sad.

      ‘Ruined? But you just purchased them. What happened?’

      ‘It’s a long story,’ she said with a sigh. ‘What breed of horse did you purchase?’

      ‘A four-year-old thoroughbred colt.’

      ‘That sounds promising. You must be very pleased.’

      ‘I suppose.’

      ‘You don’t sound very pleased.’

      ‘It’s a long story.’ He raised his glass slowly and the crystal touched his lips. For a moment he savoured the taste before his Adam’s apple slid up and down with his swallow.

      Her stomach did an odd little flip. It happened now and then, whenever she witnessed him doing the most mundane things. When he was not consciously trying to charm people, he was magnificent to watch.

      ‘Speaking of things we’d rather forget,’ he continued, ‘reassure me you will not be traipsing about any rooftops in the near future. If I hadn’t been up there to grab you, you would have fallen to your death.’

      ‘If you hadn’t been up there, I wouldn’t have been startled enough to slip. You owe me an apology.’ She wished he’d forgotten about their encounter. The last thing she needed was Lord Hartwick poking into her affairs.

      ‘An apology?’ he replied indignantly. ‘I saved you!’

      ‘Which would not have been necessary if you had simply ignored me.’

      ‘I didn’t know it was you. If I had, I most certainly would have ignored you. Since you have yet to thank me for saving you, I’ll accept your unspoken gratitude and say it was my pleasure.’ He smirked at her and cocked his head.

      There were times it was impossible not to roll her eyes at him.

      ‘And that is the response I’m given. I see. Well, the next time I find you in need of assistance, I will ignore you. Is that to your liking, Miss Forrester?’

      ‘That would suit my needs very well, my lord.’

      * * *

      The problem was, as much as Hart hated to admit it to himself, he enjoyed matching wits with Miss Forrester and had no desire to ignore her. Women fell into one of two camps. Either they would throw themselves at him or run the other way, afraid of his rakish reputation. Sarah Forrester was different. He had no idea how to charm her and he wasn’t completely certain she even liked him. Not that it should matter if she did. Which it did not. It absolutely did not. But he was discovering how much fun it was to provoke a reaction from her.

      He should excuse himself and return to his place across the room, from where he had been contemplating how to steal Lady Everill’s bracelet. Placing that much physical distance between them was the proper thing to do, considering they were both unmarried. Instead he gave her his most charming smile, settled back into the red brocade cushions and waited.

      She let out a long, exasperated sigh, which caused her breasts to rise and fall in her yellow-and-white-striped gown. He took another sip of brandy.

      ‘Must we continue to converse?’ she moaned.

      He laughed at the audacity of that statement by an American to a peer of the realm. ‘We don’t have to. We could sit in companionable silence. I’ll enjoy my brandy and you can read your book.’

      Those keen brown eyes of hers, which he knew missed very little, narrowed. ‘I cannot imagine you could remain silent for very long.’

      As hard as he tried to prevent it, a small smile snuck out. ‘I find one can learn many things about a person when neither is speaking.’

      ‘I imagine you can. However, in this instance, the both of us are clothed.’

      He almost spat his brandy back into his glass. He knew she was looking for a reaction and, dammit, he had given her one. This round went to Miss Forrester.

      Katrina poked her head into the room, breaking their game. ‘Sarah, I’m terribly sorry about—Oh... Good day, Hartwick.’ She walked towards them and waved him off when he began to stand. ‘I wasn’t aware you were here today.’

      ‘I was instructed to wait in here,’ Miss Forrester blurted out.

      Heaven forbid Katrina think she wanted to spend time with him. Now it was his turn to roll his eyes. ‘I doubt Katrina assumed you were spending time with me by choice...alone...in a room.’

      ‘I am simply clarifying the situation.’

      Just then, Julian stepped into the room and raised his brows at the sight of the women. Perhaps cowbells were in order in this house to keep track of everyone. Earlier, he had encountered the Dowager Duchess. Was she to walk in next?

      ‘You’re back from shopping already?’ Julian asked.

      Katrina glanced at Miss Forrester in an apologetic way. ‘I fear my shopping trips will be brief for some time.’

      Some silent communication passed between the couple, before Julian nodded in understanding. Was Julian suffering from financial difficulties? He wished his friend had come to him if he needed funds. Hart would be happy to help him.

      The thought of money had him recalling the debacle at Tattersall’s. He took a large gulp of brandy, finishing off the glass.

      Katrina turned back to them with a bright smile. ‘It’s actually a happy coincidence we have the two of you together. There is something we wanted to ask you.’

      Miss Forrester placed her book on the table beside her and looked as perplexed as he felt.

      ‘It’s about Augusta,’ Katrina continued.

      He knew absolutely nothing about children. He had been one once, of course, but he was an only child and had never even seen a baby before Augusta. What in the world could they want to ask him?

      It was obvious Katrina was being polite. She must want Miss Forrester’s opinion on something and didn’t want him to feel slighted. That was just like her. He turned to the woman next to him who was looking at her friend like a startled deer. Apparently Miss Forrester was not at all comfortable with the turn of this conversation either.

      ‘Go on, Katrina,’ she said before licking those soft, pink, full lips of hers.

      He brought his glass to his lips. Bloody hell, he needed more brandy.

      Katrina looked to Julian, who stepped up to her side and slid his arm around her waist. ‘Katrina and I were wondering if you would do us the honour of serving as Augusta’s godparents.’

      Hart’s brow wrinkled in confusion. ‘Exactly who are you asking?’

      ‘Both of you,’ Katrina replied, looking between them.

      He turned to Miss Forrester, who had grown unusually mute. There were tears in her eyes—actual tears.

      ‘Katrina, you do not have to... I will buy another—’

      ‘Sarah, don’t be foolish. I’ve wanted to ask you this since the day Augusta was born. You are like a sister to me.’

      ‘You’re certain?’

      ‘Of course, we both are.’ She looked to Julian, who gave Miss Forrester a reassuring smile.

      The women hugged and now it appeared Katrina was tearing up, as well. Oh, hell, he hated to see women cry! He sat back with a sigh and looked across at a life-size portrait of one of Julian’s ancient relatives. From the man’s expression, it appeared he couldn’t abide crying women either. Could he leave now, without causing offence?

      Eager to get away from the emotional display, Hart stood and walked to his friend. ‘I don’t exactly understand your choice,’ he said, shaking his head.

      Julian leaned closer. ‘Katrina insisted on


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