Never Fall for Your Fiancee
- Автор: Heath Virginia
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: St. Martin's Publishing Group
- Жанр: Исторические любовные романы
Электронная книга - «Never Fall for Your Fiancee». Краткое содержание книги:
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Virginia Heath's fun characters and situations will have you laughing out loud! Don't miss this wonderful read! - Sabrina Jeffries, *New York Times* bestselling author**
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The first in a new historical rom-com series, a handsome earl hires a fake fiancée to keep his matchmaking mother at bay, but hilarity ensues when love threatens to complicate everything.**
“And this is my youngest sister, Miss Vee Merriwell.”
Minerva looked ready to strangle her outspoken sibling but hid her annoyance under a brittle smile, although her glare at Diana was quite frightening. Giles was, of course, enjoying himself immensely and looked intent on continuing to spar with the outspoken sister, as did she. To spare them all from it, Hugh stepped forward and shook the youngest Miss Merriwell’s hand. Unlike the other two, she was fair, yet had the same feline green eyes behind her unbecoming spectacles, eyes that looked thoroughly overwhelmed and troubled.
“I don’t recall a Roman goddess called Vee. Or anyone called Vee, for that matter. What an unusual name.” Hugh smiled at her, attempting to put her at her ease.
“Vee loathes her name,” said Diana with more than a hint of mischief. “She thinks it improper. So we call her Vee for short…”
Minerva glared. “Thank you, Diana…”
“But really it’s Venus. The goddess of beauty and lo—”
“I said, thank you, Diana.” Again Minerva intervened before the outspoken sister could finish, as their youngest was too mortified to do anything other than blush, something she did with crimson aplomb, the poor thing. He had to rescue her.
“I sympathize on your being saddled with a name you despise, Miss Vee. My middle name is Peregrine. How dreadful is that? But where are my manners? Come … sit.” Hugh smiled, offering his arm, and the youngest sister smiled shyly in return as she took it, allowing him to maneuver her out of the line of fire. “Payne is rustling up some refreshments for us all. You must be exhausted from your travels. London is so inconveniently far from Hampshire.”
Once they were all seated, the heavy veil of awkwardness descended on the proceedings. Small talk felt inappropriate. However, so did bluntly tackling the topic of the planned deception. Exactly how did one converse with one’s fake fiancée and her family upon their first meeting? There was so much to do and potentially so little time to do it in. He wanted to get started straightaway. Just in case.
“How was your journey?”
“Very pleasant, my lord. Your carriage was very comfortable.”
“Splendid.” Hugh’s eyes took in the sisters’ tatty frocks and well-worn boots. “Excellent news.” There was another awkward conversation that would need to be had. Anticipating their wardrobes would not be up to scratch, he had already engaged a team of seamstresses who would arrive tomorrow to measure them all for acceptable new clothes and produce them with haste. And new clothes weren’t the only things Miss Merriwell and her sisters would need. He had done a great deal of planning in the last two days. He’d made lists, issued countless instructions, and even prepared notes on everything his temporary fiancée would need to know. Seeing as he had anticipated all that, why the blazes hadn’t he worked on a few tactful sentences to broach difficult subjects? Or preempted his odd and overwhelming reaction to Minerva? “And the inn you stayed in last night … Was it to your satisfaction?”
“It was lovely, my lord.” Minerva forced a smile. “And very comfortable, too.”
“Excellent.” He racked his brains for something more erudite. Anything …
No.
Depressingly, there was nothing else. The ormolu clock on the mantel ticked more loudly than it ever had before. “Excellent.” That was apparently the full extent of his vocabulary today. His toes began to curl inside his boots, so he looked at Giles in the hope he might take pity on him. But his friend stared back with deliberate blandness, his eyes dancing with amusement.
Excellent.
“Is this your first visit to Hampshire?”
“Indeed it is, my lord. The scenery was very lovely from the carriage window.”
Well, that was another inane question answered as fully as could be expected. Hugh wanted to die. Miss Merriwell didn’t appear any more comfortable, but bless her, she was trying. Her outspoken sister was glaring, the shy one staring at her lap as if her life depended on it, and Giles was barely holding in a laugh. When Hugh heard the rattle of teacups in the distance, he almost cheered out loud. “The refreshments are coming! Excellent.” He was coming to loathe that bloody word. He resisted the urge to greet his butler like the prodigal son. “Step lively, Payne. The ladies must be starving.”
His butler rolled his eyes and set about organizing the distribution of the delicately cut finger sandwiches with a pair of tongs while they all watched the maid pour the tea with much more scrutiny than the task warranted. They then unanimously focused on nibbling on them the second the servants left them alone. Only Minerva resisted tucking in, preferring to stare at her plate mournfully.
“Egg sandwiches,” drawled Giles, eyeing one with relish before winking at Diana. “How very fitting. Do you suppose the kitchen kept the eggshells? Because if they did, perhaps you can call Payne back and have him scatter them liberally over the carpet so we can all walk on them?”
“Might I speak plainly, Lord Fareham?” Minerva had steeled her shoulders.
“Hallelujah!” Giles again. “I wish you would. Somebody needs to.”
She ignored him to stare intently at Hugh, those stunning green eyes swirling with an emotion that he couldn’t fathom but which managed to make him distinctly uneasy nevertheless.
“It occurs to me we are all embarrassed at the Great Unsaid, therefore, I shall be the one to say it so we can all breathe again.” She seemed to stare directly into his soul. “You are currently mortified to have been silly enough to get yourself into such a predicament you had to resort to hiring me—a complete stranger—to pose as your fiancée. And I am mortified I am in such dire need of money that I agreed to it.” She exhaled loudly and relaxed her shoulders and threw out her hands. “There! It’s done. Now we have acknowledged the awkwardness, I’m sure we’ll all feel much better about it.” Although she didn’t look better, she looked agitated. Very agitated. “Actually, Lord Fareham—might I have a word … in private?”
“Yes … of course. Follow me.” With a sense of impending doom, he led her from the drawing room and into his study. In an attempt to put them both at ease, he sat in one of the wingbacks and gestured for her to do the same. She didn’t sit. Or stand still. Instead, she paced in a haphazard circle on the Persian rug.
“Is everything all right?”
“No, Lord Fareham! Absolutely nothing is all right. I’ve made a dreadful mistake in coming here.” She suddenly stopped and gesticulated passionately at the paneled walls. “I have no experience in this sort of life, my lord. None. I’ve never seen such grandeur let alone pretended I am comfortable with it. I am completely out of my depth and you have made a dreadful mistake in hiring me to help you.”
For some inexplicable reason, he wanted to pull her close and murmur reassurances against her hair.
“I disagree.” Hugh tried to keep the panic out of his voice. He couldn’t allow her to back out, any more than he could risk sniffing her seductive hair. The ramifications didn’t bear thinking about. “My mother is expecting to meet a genteel lady rather than a blue-blooded aristocrat, and you certainly have the voice and bearing of a genteel lady. In fact, I think she would positively approve of the lack of aristocratic blood in your veins. Since she married an American, she has developed exceedingly liberal ideas about class and claims to detest snobbery. They are a very egalitarian lot, the Americans. Not that my mother was much of a snob in the first place. She’s very down-to-earth. Just like me.”
She stared at him as if he were mad.
“Lord Fareham, whilst you strike me as a very personable man, I can assure you there is nothing down-to-earth about all this.” She spun a slow circle on the rug. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. To think you live in this? This!” Her expression was suddenly distraught. “I never would have agreed if I had known I was to impersonate a woman destined to live in a palace.”