The Earl's Countess 0f Convenience (Penniless Brides 0f Convenience Book 1)

by Marguerite Kaye

  A countess in name only…

  ...tempted by a night with her husband!

  Part of Penniless Brides of Convenience: Eloise Brannagh has witnessed firsthand the damage unruly passion can cause. Yet she craves freedom, so a convenient marriage to the Earl of Fearnoch seems the perfect solution! Except Alexander Sinclair is more handsome, more intriguing, more everything than Eloise anticipated. She’s set her own rules for their marriage, but her irresistible husband might just tempt her to break them!

  “So we must persuade them instead that we are genuinely in love.”

  “In love! I am not sure I would know where to begin. How does one stare in a besotted manner, for example?”

  He studied her smiling uncertainly at him, and found himself, wholly unexpectedly and entirely inappropriately, wanting to kiss her. Properly kiss her. Which would be a catastrophic mistake. Because he also wanted, very much wanted, Miss Eloise Brannagh to become his convenient wife.

  “I think,” Alexander said carefully, “that we can discount any besottedness.” He took her hand, lifting it to his lips. “Small demonstrations of affection will suffice.” He kissed her fingertips. “There will be shared glances, times when our eyes meet, when it will be obvious to everyone that we are counting the seconds until we are alone.”

  “I am not sure...”

  He turned her hand over, kissing her palm, felt the sharp intake of her breath and the responding kick of excitement in his gut, and met her eyes. Her lips parted. Dear God, but he wanted to kiss her.

  Penniless Brides of Convenience

  Four Regency Cinderellas say “I do”

  Orphaned sisters Eloise, Phoebe and Estelle Brannagh grew up in the shadow of their parents’ tumultuous passion. They are now making their own way in the world, penniless but proud. They are looking for freedom and security—definitely not love!

  Inspired by the experience of their close friend Kate, Lady Elmswood, they have decided marriages of convenience are the answer. But all four of them are about to discover that sometimes love is found where you least expect it...

  Read Eloise’s story in

  The Earl’s Countess of Convenience

  And look out for Phoebe’s story—

  coming next month!

  Marguerite Kaye

  The Earl’s Countess of Convenience

  Marguerite Kaye writes hot historical romances from her home in cold and usually rainy Scotland, featuring Regency rakes, Highlanders and sheikhs. She has published over forty books and novellas. When she’s not writing, she enjoys walking, cycling (but only on the level), gardening (but only what she can eat) and cooking. She also likes to knit and occasionally drink martinis (though not at the same time). Find out more on her website, margueritekaye.com.

  Books by Marguerite Kaye

  Harlequin Historical

  Scandal at the Midsummer Ball

  “The Officer’s Temptation”

  Scandal at the Christmas Ball

  “A Governess for Christmas”

  Penniless Brides of Convenience

  The Earl’s Countess of Convenience

  Matches Made in Scandal

  From Governess to Countess

  From Courtesan to Convenient Wife

  His Rags-to-Riches Contessa

  A Scandalous Winter Wedding

  Hot Arabian Nights

  The Widow and the Sheikh

  Sheikh’s Mail-Order Bride

  The Harlot and the Sheikh

  Claiming His Desert Princess

  Visit the Author Profile page

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  For the original Twinnies, my sisters Johanna and Catriona. You are nothing like the twins in this book, and despite what you think, neither of you are in the least bit musical, but I love you every bit as much as Eloise loves Phoebe and Estelle. Maybe even a wee bit more!

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Historical Note

  Excerpt from Unlaced by the Highland Duke by Lara Temple

  Chapter One

  Elmswood Manor—April 1827

  Kate, Lady Elmswood, burst into the morning room waving aloft a single sheet of thick writing parchment. ‘“Lord Fearnoch is most pleased to accept Lady Elmswood’s kind invitation to call at Elmswood Manor on Friday April the sixth, with the express purpose of meeting with her eldest ward, Miss Eloise Brannagh, to discuss the possibility of a marriage between the parties on terms outlined in his previous dispatch.” Goodness, that sounds as if it was written by his lawyer.’

  ‘Perhaps, but it’s just as likely he wrote it himself.’ Eloise looked up from her position on the floor, kneeling in front of Phoebe to pin the hem of her sister’s new gown. ‘Remember, Kate, until he inherited the title, he was merely Alexander Sinclair, some sort of clerk at the Admiralty, so well used to penning memorandums, one would imagine.’ She smiled. ‘It’s certainly not the most romantic proposal I’ve ever come across. Does he proffer any other endearments?’

  ‘“Should either party conclude that the match does not fully satisfy their requirements, then negotiations will be terminated without prejudice. Should both parties prove amenable, however, it is imperative that the nuptials are concluded by the second of June, Lord Fearnoch’s thirtieth birthday, whereupon, under the terms of the Fearnoch entail, failure to be of married status would result in the Fearnoch title and estates passing to a cousin.” And he looks forward...et cetera, et cetera,’ Kate concluded. ‘What do you think, Eloise? It all sounds a bit cold and heartless. It’s not too late to write back and say you’ve changed your mind.’

  ‘But I haven’t.’ Eloise inserted a final pin. ‘Turn around slowly, Phoebe. Yes, I think that will do nicely. Your turn, Estelle.’

  One twin replaced the other on the footstool, Eloise resumed her pinning and Kate dropped into her usual chair by the fire, surrendering the letter over to Phoebe to read. ‘You know, you could make a very handsome living if you set yourself up as a modiste. Those gowns are beautiful.’

  ‘Madame Eloise, dressmaker to the aristocracy,’ Estelle said in a dreadful French accent. ‘You would have a very exclusive little boutique in...’

  ‘Bond Street,’ Kate supplied for her, smiling.

  ‘Bond Street. And Phoebe could bake cakes to serve to your ladies while they wait to be fitted, and I could entertain them by playing on the pianoforte. Am I done?’

  ‘You are.’ Eloise stood up, shaking out her own skirts and returning her pin cushion to her sewing box before sitting down opposite Kate. ‘May I?’

  Phoebe handed her the letter. ‘I shall bake my special spicy biscuits for Lord Fearnoch. I would have preferred to offer him a fruit cake, but you can’t make a good fruit cake in three days, it needs at least a week for the brandy to soak in.’

  Estelle threw h
erself down on the sofa beside her twin. ‘I’m not sure the biscuits are a good idea, Phoebe, they’re very brittle. Not ideal for a man with no teeth.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake!’ Eloise handed the letter back to Kate, laughing. ‘I’m sure he has a perfectly good set of teeth.’

  ‘Yes,’ Estelle said, grinning, ‘but the question is, are they his own?’

  ‘Perhaps I should make a sponge cake, then,’ Phoebe said, her eyes alight with mischief. ‘If he does have wooden teeth...’

  ‘A man as rich as Lord Fearnoch will surely have ivory,’ Estelle interjected.

  ‘Yes, but he’s not rich yet, is he? Unless he marries Eloise, he’ll have to revoke the title and will have nothing but his salary from the Admiralty to his name. So I think perhaps I will make a sponge, after all. What do you think, Eloise?’

  ‘I will leave that momentous decision in your capable hands, Phoebe.’

  ‘You’re quite right, you’ve more important things to worry about. Such as what to wear. I think the cream dress with the emerald trim is your most becoming gown. Lord Fearnoch will be so dazzled by your radiant beauty that he will be rendered quite speechless, and without further ado will fall at your feet and beg you to be his.’

  ‘Now you are being ridiculous,’ Eloise said, colouring. ‘You know very well that I am the bookish sister. It is you two who have the kind of looks which cause carriage accidents.’

  ‘That does not make a scarecrow of you!’ The twins leapt up of one accord, pulling her over to stand in front of the empty fireplace. ‘Take a look in the mirror, for goodness’ sake.’

  Laughing, Eloise did as she was bid, catching her breath at the reflection of herself flanked by the twins. Though they were not identical, one strawberry blonde and the other Titian, they were both quite ridiculously beautiful. Her own auburn locks were tarnished in comparison, and though all of them had the same hazel eyes, her face was not a perfect oval, and her skin, though the same creamy colour as the twins’, was marred by a sprinkling of freckles. What would Mama, the former toast of Dublin society, think if she could see her daughters now, the younger two grown into such beauties as would put her in the shade? Ha! And there would be the rub, for Mama never could bear to be anything other than the centre of attention, the most beautiful woman in any room.

  ‘No one would ever mistake us for anything other than sisters,’ Phoebe said, kissing Eloise’s cheek affectionately.

  ‘True,’ she agreed, ‘though no one would deny that I am very much a watered-down version of you two. And besides,’ she continued, cutting short her sisters’ protests, ‘my appearance is quite irrelevant. Lord Fearnoch is not in need of a beautiful wife, but a practical, pragmatic one.’

  ‘Just like Aunt Kate.’ Phoebe gave her guardian a quick hug. ‘Practical, pragmatic and pretty. And don’t say that old married ladies cannot be described as pretty because you are neither old nor married—at least, not in the conventional sense.’

  ‘I am twenty-eight years old, young lady, and have been married to your Uncle Daniel for six years,’ Kate retorted. She rolled her eyes. ‘Uncle Daniel! It makes him sound positively ancient, but he has only just turned thirty-four.’

  ‘And despite the fact that he is our guardian, we have never actually met him.’

  ‘That is because he has been overseas ever since we tied the knot, a year before your arrival.’

  ‘Yes, but before that...’

  ‘There were nine years between Mama and our uncle. When I was born, he’d only have been...’ Eloise wrinkled her nose as she calculated. ‘Ten, I think.’

  ‘And by the time he was sixteen,’ Kate said, ‘he was already off on his first expedition to exotic foreign climes.’

  ‘The wilds of rural Ireland can’t have held much appeal in comparison, I suppose,’ Phoebe said.

  ‘No, but even if they had, Papa wouldn’t have made him welcome.’ Eloise grimaced. ‘Any more than we would have been welcomed with open arms here, at Elmswood Manor, when Papa was alive. Even if our grandfather had forgiven Mama for eloping, Papa would not have set foot over the threshold, nor allowed any of us to.’

  ‘How Papa loathed our grandfather for implying he was not good enough for Mama,’ Phoebe said.

  ‘I don’t know about not good enough, but they were certainly not good for each other,’ Estelle added.

  ‘Nor for us,’ her twin concluded sadly. ‘Papa was forever saying he would not darken our grandfather’s doorstep again, which was all very well for him, but we were not permitted to darken the doorstep once, while our grandfather was alive.’

  ‘I’ve always thought that old Lord Elmswood could have said nothing more completely designed to guarantee an elopement, than to forbid your mother from seeing your father,’ Kate interjected. ‘Though I was too young to know anything of the precise circumstances, I knew Daniel had an older sister, but it was only after I was married and found that portrait of her hidden away in the attics that I realised there must have been some sort of scandal. It is such a shame you didn’t get the chance to know your grandfather. I’m sure, if he’d met the three of you, the breach could have been healed.’

  ‘Not if our father had anything to do with it,’ Eloise said grimly, recalling Papa’s regular, vicious diatribes on the subject.

  ‘No,’ Phoebe agreed with a shudder. ‘And now it’s too late. Isn’t it odd, that our only close living relative is a man we’ve never met. Which makes it all the more peculiar, don’t you think, that he offered up Eloise as the perfect wife to a total stranger.’

  ‘You make it sound so dramatic!’ Eloise exclaimed, shaking her head. ‘Uncle Daniel’s letter made it clear that he has known Lord Fearnoch for many years and that he is an honourable man whom he would trust with his life.’

  ‘Or, in this case, his niece’s life. I’ve been racking my brains,’ Phoebe said, ‘and I can’t remember him ever mentioning an Alexander Sinclair in any of his previous letters.’

  ‘But Uncle Daniel rarely mentions anyone in his letters to Aunt Kate,’ Estelle reminded her. ‘Half the time, we don’t even know where he is and what it is he’s doing.’

  ‘Exploring far-flung corners of the globe! And the more dangerous and remote the place, the happier he is. As the three of you know perfectly well, because you’ve read every one of his very occasional missives, all he ever writes is a brief scrawl to let me know he is still alive. He never even acknowledges my replies. Half the time, I wonder if he even reads them.’

  ‘Well, there you must be in the wrong of it,’ Eloise pointed out, ‘for he has read enough to deduce that I might fit the bill for the Earl of Fearnoch’s vacancy for a wife. Though he did not offer me up, as if I were a dish of stew, he merely suggested, if I was amenable, that the match might suit me.’

  ‘And we are all agreed, having discussed nothing else since Lord Fearnoch’s first letter arrived three weeks ago, that it will suit you,’ Kate said. ‘At least,’ she added, frowning over at the twins, ‘I thought we had?’

  The twins gazed silently at each other for a long moment. Eloise knew they were sharing their thoughts in that disconcerting manner they had demonstrated from a very young age. ‘We have,’ Phoebe said, speaking for the pair of them. ‘Truly, Eloise, we haven’t changed our minds. Though we were dead set against it at first, and we hate the very notion of losing you, and if there is any chance that you think you would be the least bit unhappy you must not—but we’ve been over and over this, haven’t we, so I won’t rake over old ground.’

  ‘Anyway, even if this match didn’t make excellent sense, we really had no choice but to agree, did we, Phoebe?’ Estelle said irrepressibly, slanting a smile at her twin. ‘Because we know that you live in terror, dear Aunt Kate, of Uncle Daniel returning home and giving you merry hell because his nieces are still cluttering up the place.’

  ‘One down, only two to go,’ Estelle chimed
in. ‘After five years, the Elmswood Manor coven is breaking up.’

  ‘Stop it,’ Kate said, laughing. ‘You know perfectly well that all of you are welcome here for always, if you wish.’

  ‘The twins are just funning.’ Eloise cast her sisters a reproving look. ‘Seriously, we’ve been round the houses on the arguments for and against my meeting Lord Fearnoch, and I thought we were all agreed that it is an opportunity I would be a fool not to explore, at the very least.’

  ‘That’s what I just said.’ Phoebe’s smile was conciliatory. ‘Though goodness, do you remember when Kate first read Uncle Daniel’s letter out, in this very room, we thought it must be some sort of joke.’

  ‘I must admit, I thought he must have been suffering from too much desert sun when he wrote it,’ Kate admitted. ‘It seemed so very odd to think of him sitting in the shadow of the pharaoh’s tombs proposing Eloise as the solution to Lord Fearnoch’s dilemma.’

  ‘And such a dilemma, as we finally discovered when we eventually had a letter from the man himself. Lord Fearnoch, you must marry before you attain your thirtieth birthday, following the death of your elder brother, the Earl,’ Estelle intoned in the voice of doom, ‘else you will forfeit one of the largest fortunes in all of England.’

  ‘I still find it very odd though,’ Eloise said, squinting at the needle she was holding up to the light to thread. ‘Why on earth would there be such a condition attached to the earldom?’

  ‘An attempt to ensure that it always passed through the direct line, I expect,’ Phoebe replied. ‘What is even odder is why an earl with a fortune must ask a complete stranger to be his wife.’

  ‘And I’ve told you several times,’ Kate retorted, ‘that it is not an easy thing to do, to secure a platonic marriage. I was the perfect solution to your Uncle Daniel’s problems when his father died. By that time, my poor ailing papa had been forced to delegate almost all of his duties as estate manager to me. Having grown up on the estate, I knew the lands better than anyone else.’ Kate gazed out of the morning room window to the view of the back gardens rolling gently down to the lake. ‘Old Lord Elmswood, Daniel’s father, had let this house fall into a sad state of neglect by the time he died. I think the whole sorry business with your mother affected him greatly. When I was a girl, I used to dream of living here. I had all sorts of plans for restoring the place to its former glory.’