The Accidental Countess (Accidental #2)(86)


“Yes, eventually,” Jane allowed. “But that could be said of all Lucy’s schemes.”

“Oh, Cass. I promise, promise, promise, never to do anything like that to you again,” Lucy said.

“Do you promise the same for me?” Jane asked with an expectant tone in her voice, pulling the book away from her face.

“Absolutely not,” Lucy replied. “Who knows what I may have to do to see you happily settled, Janie?”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Just don’t make it too ludicrous, please.”

“Duly noted,” came Lucy’s reply.

Derek put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “I hope you are done with your schemes, Lucy. I don’t think any of us can take any more.”

Lucy gave Jane a sidewise smile. “Of course. Only we must see Jane settled first and then—”

Garrett nearly spat out his drink. “Miss Lowndes is getting married?”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Of course not, you dolt. Lucy’s promised to help me to stop my mother from constantly trying to trot me out and get me married.”

Garrett sighed. “I suppose I should be thankful that the worst you called me was a dolt. It is nice to see you back to your normal waspishness, Miss Lowndes.” He gave her a tight smile.

Jane lifted her chin and returned the tight smile. “My pleasure, Upton.”

Lucy clapped her hands together. “Now that the funeral is behind us, we must next help Cass plan the wedding, of course. Then we’ll see to Jane.”

“And will that involve a scheme?” Derek asked his wife.

“Not necessarily.” Lucy blinked at him innocently.

Derek groaned.

“Just leave me out of it,” Garrett said. “Owen nearly beat me to a pulp last time.”

“I cannot guarantee anything.” Lucy laughed. “Some plans require a bit of help from your friends. In fact, they go best that way, I find.”

“Not if the help involves a scandal,” Garrett replied.

“That’s not true at all,” Lucy said, lifting her nose in the air. “The more scandalous, the better. That is why it is so very important to be scandalous from time to time.”

“Yes, well, I’d volunteer to join the Sisters of Perpetual Hope, but I highly doubt they’d approve of my reading material.” Jane shook her head and shuddered. “And the Bible is so dreadfully dull.”

They all laughed. Then Jane asked, “Have you heard anything from Penelope lately, Cass?”

“The last I heard, she eloped to Gretna Green with Mr. Sedgewick.”

“Who is Mr. Sedgewick?” Lucy asked.

“I have no idea,” Cass replied. “I suppose we will meet him when they return.”

“Are her parents beside themselves?” Lucy asked.

“They are indeed.” Cass leaned her head back against Julian’s chest and took a deep breath. “I suppose we should just be thankful that my parents finally came around to the idea of our marriage, darling.”

“They didn’t have much of a choice,” Julian replied.

“Are you jesting? They came around because you’re an earl now, Julian,” Jane said, just before clapping her hand over her mouth. She cleared her throat. “With apologies for being so blunt.”

“There is that.” Julian grinned.

“It’s quite nauseating really,” Cass said. “Them getting their way under such awful circumstances.” She shook her head.

Lucy tapped her finger against her cheek. “No matter, dear. You’re soon to be a countess, whether accidental or not.”

Julian pulled Cass’s hand up to his lips and kissed it. “I like that. I like it very much. You are my one true love, my accidental countess.”





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CHAPTER ONE


London, April 1816



“Sir, the coach awaits you.” Garrett Upton glanced up at the butler who stood in the doorway to his study. The two roan spaniels lying on either side of his chair lifted their heads and wagged their tails at the butler.

“I’ll be there in a moment, Cartwright.” Garrett finished sanding the letter. Then he sealed it and stamped it with the heated wax in front of him. He didn’t have much time. The coach was waiting to take him to friends’ wedding house party in Surrey. The Earl of Swifdon was finally marrying his bride, Lady Cassandra Monroe, after six months of grieving for the earl’s older brother, Donald, had passed.

Garrett turned over the letter and stared at it. He let out a long breath. It contained what it always did, a bank draft, an inadequate message. No mention of Harold.

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