The Cinderella Countess

‘I hardly think you were that, Miss Smith. Entertaining is more the word that comes to mind.’

‘You are kind.’

‘Often in life I am not.’

She ignored that. ‘Your friends were kind, too.’

‘Have you ever drunk wine before?’

‘No.’

‘God.’ His laughter was not quite what she expected.

‘I hope as a consequence you don’t want your ten pounds back now for I have spent it already.’

‘I know of that. You sent me a note, remember. I did not realise that small sum of money could purchase so much. I commend you, Miss Smith.’

‘Belle.’

‘Pardon.’

‘Belle. You can call me that. Everyone else does. It means beautiful in French, but I do not think she should have named me such for I am not.’

‘Hell.’

‘You are swearing again, my lord Earl. I’m not sure you should. It is more than rude and, while I am not a high-born lady, I am still a woman.’

He knocked on the window and the conveyance stopped. ‘Take the long road around London for at least an hour, Barnes, and stop at the next shop that sells lemonade.’

‘Lemonade, my lord?’

‘In a very large bottle.’

Chapter Four (#ueb27a586-fbfb-5111-b7c0-00af0c6a2a39)

She had gone to sleep on his shoulder, her head pushed against him and one hand lying in his lap. His fine embroidered jacket was creased and the hat he had worn was on the floor beside him. Outside the day looked a lot later than it should have been.

‘What time is it?’ she asked, jerking away with horror. Her mouth felt furry and her stomach nauseous.

‘Half past twelve.’

‘We have stopped?’

‘The horses needed a rest from walking.’

‘Oh, my God.’ She placed her head in her hands and said it again. ‘You are telling me that we have been driving around London because I fell asleep? This is worse than Stanley, worse than the waistcoat, worse even than my trying to clean you up...’ Trailing off, she groaned again before relapsing into silence.