"My dear Countess, if I did not know better, I would think you were using me for my connections to the Marquess of Kendal." He gave a dramatic sigh, followed by a wink. He had seen Ian wink hundreds of times at as many ladies. It always ended with the same response —tittering and blushing. The Countess, however, neither blushed nor tittered, which squelched Conrad’s earlier confidence. "It is good I know better,” he quickly amended. “I did present him with your invitation, but as always, he declined. I cannot fathom why you desire his presence. Everyone knows he is a bore and most disagreeable." Conrad had heard himself described in these terms many times over the years. Along with contrary, surly and disobliging. He had begun to wear the descriptions as a badge of honor.
The Countess waved away his words. "On the few occasions I have met Lord Kendal, I found him reserved, but not entirely unpleasant." A puzzled expression crossed her face before she turned her back and took up her seat. "Very well. I shall see you at dinner."
Not waiting for her to change her mind, Conrad bowed in her direction and made his way out of the room. He was almost to the door when her words stopped him. "Lord Kendal?"
Conrad turned. "Yes, my la…?" What had she just called him? Was it just a mistake on her part? He chanced a look in her direction, but her head was still down, her feather moving furiously back and forth.
"You will have to try harder if you are to persuade anyone here that you are, indeed, Lord Ian. Granted, I am more observant than most, but there are several attending who boast quite an intimate acquaintance with your brother. Namely Lord Anthony and Mr. Beauchamp."
Conrad's back stiffened at the mention of Ian's school chums. They were three men of the same ilk.
She finally looked up from her work. "I am surprised either of you believed you could fool me." There was a touch of arrogance in her voice.
Conrad shrugged. "I tried to tell Ian this would never work, but he was insistent. His visit with Miss Simmons overlapped by a few days. He was afraid of offending you."
"Thinking me a dimwit is what I find offensive." The terseness of her voice told Conrad she was not happy with their plan. Hope blossomed in him. Was she so offended she would ask him to leave?
She stood, moving back towards him. "I find I am intrigued with the possible outcomes of this little charade, not to mention honored to have the Marquess of Kendal at my little house party." She quirked a brow, her lips pursed. "Tell me, when is your brother expected?"
Conrad's shoulders dropped and he let out a heavy breath. Not soon enough. "Tomorrow next, my lady."
She clasped her hands, a wicked smile on her face. "Then we shall have to have our fun quickly, my lord."
Conrad shook his head. “Now that you are aware of this ruse, I shall be on my way.”
The Countess cackled. “Oh, no. You started this little game, Lord Kendal and you will see it though. At least until your brother turns up.” Her brows raised in challenge. “And then perhaps, you could arrive again…as yourself.”
Conrad smiled tightly at her as he gave a curt nod, barely stifling his groan.
* * *
"Tell me again how you procured this invitation, Mama?" Jes stared out the rain-streaked carriage window at the vast home visible between the birch trees lining the drive. The darkness of the storm clouds overhead merely made the expansive house look ominous.
"Do not act so astonished, Jes. We may be paupers now, but there was a time when all the grand homes in England were open to me. I was even dear friends with the daughter of the Countess Du'Brevan."
Jes turned sympathetic eyes to her mother. "We are not paupers, Mama." Not that it had mattered when they did have money. "Though, it still does not explain the invitation. Our less than winning reputation among society was made very clear during my last season." She knew her words were harsh, but none the less true.
"Come now, Jes." There was a hint of aggravation in Lady Rachel's voice. "Wipe that suspicion from your face. I did nothing dishonest. I simply made contact with an old acquaintance."
With each turn of the wheels, Jes felt her unease increase. These were not her friends. There were bound to be people in attendance she met while in London. They had not wanted her friendship then, why should they want it now? “Perhaps we could return to Aunt Lydia’s. There is bound to be a cottage nearby we could let with the money we have left.”
Her mother looked out the window, conveniently avoiding eye contact. "As to the remaining money, I am afraid the bulk of it is gone." At Jes's sharp intake of breath, her mother turned back to her. "We could not arrive here in a mail coach wearing rags, now could we? It was necessary to use the remainder of the money to…" Her mother paused. "Put our best foot forward. This is precisely the type of event that could change your life."
Jes shook her head. "But Mama, you said Aunt Lydia paid for all of this." She lifted the fabric of her new traveling dress.
Her mother shrugged. “I knew you would dig in your heels if I told you where the money was coming from. It is a risk, I know. But the risk I believe is necessary.”
"Do you not remember London? If I could not secure a match there, among dozens of eligible men, what makes you believe I would make one here?" Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper. "I will be seen as a fortune hunter." She turned toward the window, resting her forehead against the pane. A sigh of frustration puffed out her lips. How could her mother have done such a thing? This irrational woman was not the mother Jes knew. She whispered her newest fear into her hands. "It will all come to naught and we will be left with nothing."
Her mother placed a hand on her back, rubbing small circles, taking Jes back to her childhood. "It is not for me I am doing this. It is for you. I want you to be happy and well settled."
Lifting her head from the glass, Jes turned. "And I can only be well settled and happy with a gentleman of large fortune? It was not the life you chose for yourself."
Lady Rachel's head dropped to the side. "I loved your father and we had a good life, but that does not mean there were not difficult times. I am trying to help you avoid that."
Jes turned back to the window, her eyes widening as Somerstone came into clear view. "Everyone has difficulties, Mama. Even the rich and titled. You should know that as well as anyone."
The carriage moved forward, stopping in front of the curved steps. Jes moved to the edge of the seat, anticipating the footman opening the door. She was not, however, anticipating his very handsome face. He smiled, making her face warm slightly. Lady Rachel cleared her throat, moving Jes's feet just a little faster. Once they were both on the ground, he handed them off to another footman.
Jes entered the house, stopping in the entryway. Her mind could not process the opulence of the house. Lady Rachel touched her arm, leaning in so only Jes could hear. "It is amazing, is it not?"
Nodding, Jes whispered back. "Have you never been here before?"
Lady Rachel shook her head. "No, my associations with the Du’Breven’s was in London. Although, I did attend a house party at their estate in Kent one summer."
They followed the footman through a room filled with pillars and up one side of the rounded staircase. As they reached the first landing, movement on the floor above drew Jes's notice. She looked up. Her heart quickened and her breath caught in her throat. It could not be. He was here. She felt the wetness of her palms beneath her gloves. It had been nearly two years since she saw him last. In point of fact, she had given up the hope she would ever see him again. But here he was.
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An Unlikely Courtship: Regency House Party: Somerstone Page 11