By Barbara Dawson Smith
this can be the tale of ways I, a penniless upstart, grew to become a countess.
I by no means got down to be the heroine in a romantic story of derring-do. As a spinster of five-and-twenty, i used to be a lot too sensible to visualize myself monitoring a perilous legal or falling prey to ardent nonsense. Nor did I ever envision myself coming into the gilded ballrooms of society the place indolent aristocrats nibbled cake and traded gossip. yet that used to be earlier than my father was once wrongfully imprisoned as a jewel thief.
decided to discover the genuine legal, I posed as an impoverished widow and secured a put up within the grand family of a noble kinfolk - the very relations that had cruelly forged out my mom a long time in the past. after all, they knew now not who i used to be. To them, i used to be purely a servant, an invisible hireling. And little did i do know, my bold plan might throw me into the trail of Simon Croft, the almighty Earl of Rockford.
boastful, captivating, and too good-looking for his personal reliable, he may need walked directly off a pedestal in a museum. I had no need for one of these rogue, but from the instant of our first assembly, he tempted my unruly center. and shortly, he threatened my schemes to boot, for Simon had secrets and techniques of his own….
--Claire, the Countess of Rockford
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Extra resources for Countess Confidential
The drawn curtains over the windows filtered the light of a sunny day, rendering the spacious pink-and-white chamber dim and shadowy. Although it was nearly noon, Rosabel reclined against a nest of pillows in the huge four-poster bed. Her spun-gold curls tumbled over her shoulders and the frilly white nightdress hugged her generous bosom. She looked sleepy-eyed and out of sorts, as she often was upon wakening. “What is it, Mama? ” Beaming, Lady Hester waved a piece of folded paper as she scurried to the bedside.
She must have had a reason for abandoning you,” Harry said with a grin as he directed his mount around a muddy spot alongside the gravel road. ” At the time, Simon had been frustrated in his investigation of the case. The thief had had the uncanny ability to slip in and out of the finest houses undetected—even Simon’s, where his mother’s diamond bracelet had gone missing during a dinner party. The only clues had been those taunting passages from Shakespeare left at the scene of each crime. Simon had wasted weeks pursuing leads and coming up empty.
An old woman next door pressed her nose to the window glass. Annoyed, Simon released Lady Rosabel, and Mrs. Brownley did likewise. Lady Rosabel giggled. “Don’t be silly, Mr. Newcombe. ” “Rather unsporting of him to browbeat a defenseless lady. And for such a flimsy cause. For shame, Rockford! ” Simon refused to be goaded. ” With unholy glee, Newcombe rubbed his palms. “Name your weapons. Pistols? I’ve a new set of beauties I’ve been itching to try. ” “Neither,” Simon said flatly. ” “Oh, but Grandpapa has forbidden Mr.
Countess Confidential by Barbara Dawson Smith