The Accidental Countess (The Aristocrat Diaries 3)

“That is very true. I do remember when the rumours came out that your mum was considering marrying your father. Oh, gosh.” Eleanor waved a hand through the air, shaking her head. “I didn’t know her then, of course, and everything I heard came through Aled and the circles in London.”

“Was it bad? She never talked about it. I don’t think she ever wanted to upset Dad.”

“It was quite dramatic at the time,” Eleanor continued. “You have to remember that it’s only been in recent years that we commoners have been accepted into the aristocratic classes.”

She punctuated “commoners” by making bunny ears with her fingers—quite an amazing thing to see from such a dignified woman.

“Not to mention that the Leicester dukedom is an older one, so she really was expected to marry someone of a similar standing.” She sipped her tea. “Your grandfather mostly got over it, especially when you girls were born.” Eleanor glanced at me. “No doubt, though, he’d be thrilled to have a countess and future duchess for granddaughters.”

Matthew poured his own cup of tea and raised it to me with a questioning look. When I shook my head, he said, “I don’t understand the antiquated way of thinking. I know Nan came from an aristocratic line, but you didn’t, and that didn’t affect your ability to be the countess for as many years as you were.”

“No, but that doesn’t always mean you’re accepted into certain circles. I didn’t move with many others unless your father was with me because, well, people are arseholes.”

Amen.

A thousand times, amen.

“Anyway, that’s enough of that for the day. I have a meeting about spring ball for the Farmer’s Alliance.”

I pursed my lips. “Isn’t that an inconvenient time for them?”

“You’d think,” Eleanor said brightly. “I think that’s why they like the party then. Gives them a day off.”

That made sense.

She stood up, then turned back to me. “I’m visiting some local artists on Friday to get some artwork for the gift shop. Ffion said you were going ahead with the postcards. Are we looking at starting those soon?”

I blinked at her. “Um, I suppose it depends how quickly some could be sketched and printed.”

“Of course. Why don’t you come with me?”

“Come with you?”

“Yes, when I visit the artists. I can introduce you to everyone, and you might find some kindred spirits.”

“I would love to,” I replied, only half-lying. “Thank you.”

She reached over and squeezed my hand. “It’s a date. Now go and take a nap—you look exhausted, my dear.”

She left on that note, and I looked to Matthew, who shrugged his shoulders.

“You do look tired,” he said, taking a step backwards.

“I’d be annoyed if I didn’t feel it.” I finished my juice and got up to put my glass by the sink.

He beat me to it, snatching up the empty glass and setting it in the sink, then smiled at me. “Come on. Nap time.”

“Are you coming, too?”

“Only until you fall asleep, then I’ll go and get some work done. My builder is going by the house today to get some quotes.”

I yawned and let him pull me off the stool. “Fine, but if you wake me up, I’m going to kill you.”

“Fair enough.”

• • •

“I’m six weeks pregnant, Matthew. We have plenty of time to sort out a nursery.”

He looked up at the ornate ceiling rose. “I know, but it needs work. Trust me when I say almost every room in this place needs some form of renovation before it’s liveable, so we should probably look into getting started on it now.”

I cast my gaze around the room.

Sure, it was dusty, and the furniture in here was all under sheets and dust cloths, but all it needed was a good clean out. That wouldn’t take a few months.

“I don’t see anything that needs that much work,” I said. “It’s just unused and a bit dusty.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Everything looks fine,” I repeated, walking further into the room. “I’m really not sure what you’re—ah!”

Matthew reached out and snatched me against him, away from the floorboard that had just broken in two under my feet.

My heart was thumping insanely fast, and I stared down at the section of the floor that was now snapped in two.

“Uh.”

“That’s exactly what I was talking about,” he said grimly. “This place is around four hundred years old, Eva. Even the stuff that looks sound might not be. When you think that this used to be my nursery…” He looked around with a grimace. “It hasn’t been used in thirty years, pretty much. It’s nothing but a storage space, and I’m not sure it’s had any love in a hundred years.”

I looked around the room, still tucked away in his arms. “Isn’t there another room we can use in that case? My old room? The one Adelaide or Olympia stayed in?”