Praise for The Mistletoe Countess
“In The Mistletoe Countess, author Pepper Basham has composed absolutely endearing perfection. Grace is the most adorable heroine ever written, and readers will instantly find her a kindred spirit. And Frederick? Readers need to keep a fan or fainting couch ever close when he’s on the page. Grace’s imaginative but genuine heart, Freddie’s swoonilicious yet wounded soul, a haunted house, and a few mysteries afoot will keep you enthralled from beginning to end. I loved every word!”
–Carrie Schmidt, reviewer & blogger, ReadingIsMySuperPower.org
“With her trademark wit and whimsy, Pepper Basham has written a thoroughly charming story. The Mistletoe Countess, with its adorably quirky, mystery-loving heroine and dashing hero, pays homage to well-loved classic literature while also delighting modern readers. This marriage of convenience romance will make you wish for Christmas, mistletoe, and the magic of a kiss.”
–Kimberly Duffy, author of A Mosaic of Wings and A Tapestry of Light
“Charming and delightfully amusing, Pepper Basham has once again penned a story that will leave readers smiling long after the last page is turned”.
—Jen Turano, USA Today Bestselling Author
Delightfully witty and full of vivacity, The Mistletoe Countess proves that Pepper Basham is not only the queen of romance, she’s also the grande dame of characterization. Grace’s quirky innocence and plucky spirit will remind readers of another beloved literary redhead from North America, and the story will thrill readers from the meet cute to the daring (albeit somewhat bumbling) rescue. Destined to be a Christmas favorite for years to come. Keep a cold compress handy for the characters’ (and author’s) abject devotion to that foreshadowing in the title--mistletoe.
—Chautona Havig, author of Deepest Roots of the Heart and the Aggie Series.
A festive Christmas read, The Mistletoe Countess will really put you into the holiday spirit! Spunky heroine Gracelynn Ferguson is the perfect match for Lord Astley—too bad, though, that it’s her sister who’s supposed to marry him. There are so many fun twists and turns to this story that there’s just no stopping a huge grin as you read. Grab a hot chocolate and nestle down with a blankie for this winner!
—Michelle Griep, Christy Award-winning author of Once Upon a Dickens Christmas
Set in 1913, The Mistletoe Countess combines the energy of a new century with the formality of the British nobility. When Gracelynn Ferguson is made a substitute in her sister’s arranged marriage, bewildered Frederick Percy, Earl of Astley, gets more than he bargained for. While Grace’s unorthodox American behavior ruffles aristocratic feathers, the new couple soon learns that the biggest threat to their happiness isn’t their differences but a murderer hunting for the earl. A laugh on every page and a swoon-inciting encounter in every chapter, you don’t want to get caught under the mistletoe without this thrilling book.
—Regina Jennings, author of Courting Misfortune and Proposing Mischief
The Mistletoe Countess is a must-read for all romantics. Basham delivers an evocative story that feathers the heart with humor and stirs the soul with moving prose. The witty dialogue, sparky romance, and clever antics of a memorable heroine will captivate readers from start to finish.
—Rachel Scott McDaniel, award-winning author of Undercurrent of Secrets
A richly romantic literary romp, The Mistletoe Countess sweeps you into the embrace of irrepressible Grace and her far from fictional English earl. Overflowing with hope, heart, and hilarity, Pepper Basham crafts a sigh-worthy love story for every season, a melding of two people on different paths into an unforgettable, faith-filled whole that will make your own heart skip a beat. Beautiful!
—Laura Frantz, Christy Award-winning author of A Heart Adrift
The Mistletoe Countess © 2021 by Pepper Basham
Print ISBN 978-1-64352-986-8
eBook Editions:
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-64352-988-2
Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-64352-987-5
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the publisher.
All scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
Cover image © Greg Jackson, Thinkpen Design
Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., 1810 Barbour Drive, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.barbourbooks.com
Our mission is to inspire the world with the life-changing message of the Bible.
Printed in the United States of America
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Dedication
To my daughter, Lydia, who listened to me read scenes from this book as I wrote them and responded with giddy laughter and “I think Grace is your best character yet, Mama”.
Thank you for being excited for me, my imaginary friends, and these crazy stories, girlie.
And for thinking a mom who writes “kissing books” isn’t TOO embarrassing.
Love you BIG!
Acknowledgements
This was simply one of the most fun books I’ve ever written! And, of course, while writing and after writing, I had to share it with a multitude of people because Grace danced off the page an into my heart! Shouldn’t others experience her too? And so, I shared her with folks who helped encourage me to bring Grace and Freddie to the published page. There is no way I’ll remember everyone, but here are a few of the lovely people who have made this story extra special.
Thank you to Courtney Clark, Courtney Cole, Jennifer Kracht, Susan Snodgrass, Rebecca Maney, Nicole Fremmerlid, Kara Grant, Marisa Stockley, Carol Moncado, Dawn Crandall, Katie Donovan, (and probably a dozen more I’m forgetting), who read an early copy of this book and shared their thoughts and love for it. It really does take a village to help me get over my insecurities sometimes! LOL
Carrie, Rachel Dixon, Beth Erin, and Joy, you guys have been unend-ing in your love for me and this story. I couldn’t wait to share new ideas and “quotes from Grace” with you all. But more than that, I appreciate how you encourage me through this writing process so that I keep writing and keep loving stories.
Thank you Debb Hackett, who made sure my British-ese was on point. You are such a fantastic encourager.
Laura Frantz, I love you. That is all.
Thank you to the fabulous Kim Duffy, Jen Turano, Michelle Griep, Rachel McDaniel, Carrie Booth Schmidt, Chautona Having, and Regina Jennings for your time it took to read TMC and your endorsements!
Becky Germany, thank you for taking this story and bringing it to the printed page! I’m so glad that you can put up with all my story excitement so well #
graphics Plus, thanks for encouraging me to turn it into a Christmas book
Chapter One
November 25, 1913
Willow, Virginia
Every fairy tale needed an appropriate castle.
Gracelynn Ferguson gripped the Model T’s window frame and leaned forward, breath caught in a suppressed gasp. An unexpectedly warm November breeze brushed against her heated cheeks, inciting a thrill of anticipation. As if two black curtains rolled back on a stage, a pair of ornate iron gates stood on either side of the drive, welcoming the car forward.
Grace angled farther, waiting for the great unveiling and holding her hat in place against the wind.
One turn around a hedgerow of braided vines showcased this hidden gem of the Blue Ridge Mountains. The palace of the Shenandoah.
Whitlock.
Framed by blue-tipped mountains and rolling green hills, the Italian-style mansion stood as an edifice of white marble and colonnades, with two dazzling towers at each corner gleaming in the late morning sunlight. Yes, it was indeed very castle-like and the perfect place for her sister and the Earl of Astley to begin their lifelong romance.
“Good heavens, Grace, sit back before the servants see you hanging your head out the window like a dog.” Lillias’s reprimand sliced into Grace’s whimsical admiration, but Grace shrugged off her sister’s rebuke with a deep breath of…pine.
Ah, country life suited her sensibilities much more than their stuffy Richmond town house. And Whitlock? Her favorite place in all the world, with a labyrinth of familiar passageways and spaces to explore or hide in from stuff-shirted wedding guests, as the case may be.
“Really, Grace. The wind is loosening your hair from its pins.” Her sister’s voice pinched tight. “I’ll not have my future husband embarrassed at the sight of you showing up in such a state.”
“No one will notice me when you’re near.” Grace pushed her loose strands from her face and twisted her neck to appreciate how Whitlock’s snowy towers contrasted against the azure sky. The towers served as excellent hiding spots too.
“They’ll certainly notice if a ginger-headed wildling enters the house instead of the refined young lady you are supposed to be.” Lillias’s volume hovered on the edge of unladylike. “And Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock were so kind to offer their home for the house party. Would you wish to embarrass them too?”
Grace pulled her head inside so quickly she almost hit her cloche hat on the frame. The last thing she’d ever wish was to bring pain to Whitlock’s magnanimous master and mistress. Though she couldn’t quite understand how her unruly hairstyle would shame the Whitlocks. If anything tempted trouble, it was her scandalous red hair, whatever its coiffure.
“Grace.” Her father’s deep voice melted into the conversation, a soft familiar rumble. “It’s a mercy that you’re not the one marrying an English earl, or the poor man would have a job on his hands.”
Her grin perked at her father’s gentle teasing. “Which is why I’m particularly glad my sister bears the burden of marrying for circumstance, so that I can engage myself to some insignificant farmer and live in obscurity with my garden, books, and passel of rambunctious children.”
“Oh, good heavens,” Lillias pressed her fingers into her forehead and shrank back into the black leather seat. “You say the most ridiculous things.”
“Besides, I don’t plan to think of marriage until I’m forced to by circumstances, will, or heart.”
“Our Grace has too many adventures to be had with her Sherlock Holmes, I’d say?”
Grace sighed at her father’s mention of the detective and his thrilling escapades. “Indeed, Father dear, I prefer my current, delightful predic-ament of being wholly unattached—except to my fictional heroes, of course. It’s a perfect occupation for watching Lillias’s romantic story unfold without having to delve into it myself.”
“This is a business transaction, Grace. Don’t try to romanticize it.” Her sister groaned. “And please refrain from your book discussions when Lord Astley is present, won’t you? Half of the time I can’t tell which people are real and which are fictional.”
Lillias looked positively exhausted, and with thoughts of her impending marriage being a business transaction, no wonder. Grace marveled at her sister’s ability to keep her emotions so well-controlled—and with training from the hawk-nosed tutor Father had hired to prepare Lillias for life in the British aristocracy, it made sense—but the past few weeks, her sister’s well-honed control had appeared a bit more frayed than usual. “I’ll only speak of all your many attributes to ensure Lord Astley falls in love with you before the week’s end so this business transaction will prove more about hearts than money and titles.”
“You read too many books, Grace.” Lillias sighed, her pale eyes suddenly older than they ought to be. “Love isn’t necessary. Money is.”
Grace’s entire soul revolted against the idea. “But I’m certain it’s helpful, particularly related to marriage.”
“How little you understand the world.”
“You could seek one and gain both,” Father added, his eyes velvety with memory of their mother—a woman of substantial means in her own right before their father, with his new money, wooed her into mat-rimony…and then love.
But marrying someone you didn’t find the least bit fascinating? Grace shrugged off the incomprehensible possibility. “Even though you only met Lord Astley’s mother on your last trip to London, it doesn’t mean your groom isn’t going to give you his heart as soon as he sees you. Who wouldn’t? He’ll hardly be able to wait a week to make you his bride.”
“Don’t marry me off so quickly, Sister dear.” Lillias’s sharp look stilled Grace’s smile. “Be sure, I intend to make wise use of the full week I still have as Lillias Ferguson, and despite his dowager mother’s many accolades of her son and initiation of this entire arrangement, we are still strangers.” She offered a weak laugh, a distraction, if Grace knew her sister at all. “Besides, I wouldn’t wish to leave my family too soon, you understand.”
A twinge of something indefinable pricked Grace’s mind, and she gave her sister another lingering stare, studying the shifting of her gaze, the dip in her brow. Grace turned her attention back to the house. If Lillias did express more “high emotions,” as her father called them, who could blame her? Marrying a complete stranger for a title? Any thoughtful woman should flinch at the very idea!
But something else pearled beneath the surface of her sister’s mood-iness. Or else Grace’s imagination had taken another indulgent turn. Of course Lillias had always wanted a grand and glorious life, so perhaps it would be worth the cost to her. She’d never been the sort to jettison an audience of admirers. Grace almost cringed. An audience of admirers? How positively dreadful!
“I’m certain you’ll find Lord Astley quite agreeable, Lillias.” Father tapped the cane he held between his knees. “Distinguished man. Most distinguished. A proper gentleman with an excellent understanding of landscapes.” Grace caught her chuckle in her gloved hand. Landscapes. The very pinnacle of romance. Her smile paused. Romance and marriage proved such daunting prospects in reality, but hidden within the pages of her beloved books, their appeal sparkled with magic and mystery. She sighed up at the familiar mansion, her attention drifting to the floor-to-ceiling windows of the library on the far left of the house.
Books were so much safer.
Their car rolled to a stop in front of a portico, where a few servants waited to greet them in their usual style. Ivy strung across the front, and red bows dotted at perfect intervals to create a lovely contrast against the bleached stone. Christmas at Whitlock! A house built by a besotted husband in honor of his beloved wife. Truly, how could Lillias and Lord Astley not fall in love at such a romantic house during such a romantic time of year?
With the customary welcome and care of Mrs. Evangeline Whitlock herself, Grace and Lillias were shown to their rooms. And as usual, the estate mistress placed Grace in the bedroom closest to the bac
k library stairway—easy access to thousands of books and wonderfully far from the rest of the house. Grace had barely removed her cape before her feet turned in the direction of her heart.
“Don’t even think about it, Grace.” Lillias snatched Grace by the arm. “I saw your face when Mrs. Whitlock mentioned the most recent additions to the library. We meet Lord Astley in less than three hours, and I’ll not have you missing it all because of some book.”
But what a book! Fire in Stubble! Grace’s face warmed to the memory. Oh, roguish Michael… “If you’d read the book you’d understand.”
Lillias’s eyes wilted closed. “No I would not, because I recognize books for what they are. Pretty words, paper, and binding.” Lillias really shouldn’t refer to books in such a dismissive way, and Grace would have said so if she’d thought it would have made a difference. Grace tossed a lingering look to the secret stairway and released a sigh. Social engagements interfered with the most delightful bookish discoveries.
“I need you with me.”
The sudden quaver in the timbre of Lillias’s voice pulled Grace’s attention away from the coveted library doorway and into her sister’s pale gaze. Something uncommonly vulnerable flashed in those eyes, tugging Grace a step closer. “You don’t have to go through with this, Lillias. Are you so desperate for a title?”
Lillias opened her mouth as if to speak but snapped her lips closed, her expression stilling to placid. “I’ve become accustomed to a certain lifestyle and expectations. This marriage provides both and will only succeed in bringing our family into the best circles.”
“Can’t you wait? Spend a few more weeks getting to know your future husband?”
“No.” Lillias’s attention shifted away, and she dropped her hold on Grace’s arm. “There’s no need to wait.”
An undercurrent of something uncertain rippled through Grace. She touched Lillias’s cheek until her sister met her gaze. “He will fall in love with you, Lillias. I am sure of it. What man could do less?”
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