The Countess and the Baron ~ Prudence
The Baggington Sisters Book 1
By Isabella Thorne
A single kiss on a dark night at a lonely inn changed Prudence’s life forever...and not for the better.
Deemed “the Baggage” by the ladies of Nettlefold, Prudence Baggington held secrets they could never know.
She thought to marry an earl. Instead, she married a monster.
Fearful for her life, she runs, seeking safe haven at a convent.
As a married woman she cannot join the convent, nor can she marry again. How could love ever be in her future? Her only hope is for peace and simple friendship with the Abbess’ nephew, the Baron Halthaven.
But the evil that made her fear for her life is coming for her.
Will Prudence be forced to run again? Or will the Baron Halthaven show her that love really can conquer all?
An uplifting tale of survival and perseverance.
Trigger warning for those who are sensitive. Prudence runs from a past abusive relationship.
No graphic descriptions.
Part of
The Baggington Sisters Collection
by Isabella Thorne
Collection Includes:
The Countess and the Baron ~ Prudence
Almost Promised ~ Temperance
The Healing Heart ~ Mercy
The Lady to Match a Rogue ~ Faith
And Coming Soon
Love over Lords ~ Hope
Keep Reading for an inside look…
Prologue
Miss Prudence Baggington’s fine light brown hair had been arranged atop her head with a garland of minuscule white flowers that her maid called baby’s breath. She still wore her dressing robe, but the voluminous folds of her wedding gown were draped over the edge of the bed and ready to be worn. She still could not quite believe that this day had arrived. She expected someone to come and snatch the victory away from her.
Outside her window, dawn colored the sky with the most beautiful array of red and orange sunbeams that Prudence had seen in weeks. She had thought to have once heard a saying about a crimson sky in the morning being a cause for alarm, but shook her head and laughed at the silly, childish notion.
Of course there was nothing more beautiful than a rose-hued sunrise. The weather was beautiful and she was about to be wed. At last. She let herself breathe in the cool scent of the morning and sighed with relief.
Marriage. Escape was perhaps a better word, but marriage would do. Once married she would be safe. She had dreamed of little else for most of her life, and she had prayed most dearly for these past few years. At last her prayers were answered, though not in the way she expected.
Of course Prudence did not want to stay on as a spinster in her father’s home. Perish the thought. Still she had thought her groom would have been the wealthy and oh so handsome Duke of Kilmerstan, but Garrett Rutherford had evaded her every move, and eventually married that little mouse of a woman, Juliana Willoughby.
Prudence huffed. Juliana was on the shelf for years. How could she have succeeded where Prudence failed? The thought still irritated but Prudence pushed it from her mind. She could not be bothered by that now. It was her wedding day.
She may not be marrying a duke, but an earl would certainly do. She would be a countess. That status had to count for something. A bit of cheer bubbled in to halt her consternation. She would make all the hypocritical biddies who called her “the baggage” eat their words. She smiled at the thought, took up her wedding dress, and twirled around the room. She could not ever remember being so happy. She smiled at herself in the glass.
“Yes, Countess,” she said. “Right away, Countess.”
She carefully hung the gown again. It was true that her situation was not what she had once hoped, but there was good in it, she thought. One unexpected kiss of passion with a near stranger, an earl no less, had led to the marriage arrangement and the reading of the banns.
She had expected each Sunday to have someone object to her impending marriage, but looking around the church she saw no one speak to oppose it, not even the Earl of Fondleton himself.
At first, Prudence had been nervous about the marriage and about the earl’s absence at each reading of the banns, but the happy day had arrived. Marriage to an earl had not been her plan, but he was titled, and wealthy. He was not old, nor was he terrible to look at. What more could a lady ask? They would grow to know and love each other in time. She was sure of it. Certainly, this was a better option than her current situation.
She shuddered.
The truth was that Prudence would have married just about anyone to get out of her father’s house. She, and her mother, had been plotting for months to catch eligible gentlemen in the Nettlefold countryside, but all to no avail. No expense had been spared. They had ordered the most extravagant gowns and perfumes to catch the attentions of the gentlemen. Prudence had been hesitant at first to follow the advice of a London socialite, but her mother paid heavily for the designs, so Prudence capitulated.
She had shrugged her shoulders and gone along with the ploy, even attempting to enact an overly feminine accent that she had been instructed would appeal to the gentlemen’s ears. She thought she sounded akin to a banshee, but the gentlemen did take notice. Still, it was a relief to know that she could return to her normal tone, even if some said she had a voice like a man. Perhaps speaking normally would bring an end to the hoarseness and sore throat which plagued her in the mornings.
Prudence had thought all the glitter and glam a farce, but perhaps her mother was right. Perhaps such maneuverings worked. After all, the machinations did end with her engagement. She would be Lady Fondleton.
“Lord and Lady Fondleton,” she had whispered to herself in the mirror as the hope for her future lay ahead in an endless road of promise. While their meeting had been abrupt and, of course, improper, there was some romance to it as well. One could not be kissed in a stable without the thought of romance, she supposed.
She brought her fingers to her lips, remembering. The kiss was rather abrupt and rough, but she supposed the earl had not thought so well of her at the time. He did not know she was a lady. In the dark he seemed to think her someone else, perhaps a kitchen wench or some drab. She would not censure him, she decided, if he wanted to take a mistress, as long as he was discreet and she was with child first. He would want an heir, of course. She tapped her fingers nervously with the thought. She remembered the first and only time she had met her soon-to-be husband.
Upon literally bumping into one another in the stables of the Inn, Prudence had nearly fallen off balance. She was sure she wind milled her arms in a most unbecoming way, and her hat had fallen askew, but instead of being put off by her unladylike stance, the man caught her. Overcome with passion in that moment, he had swept down upon her, gathered her close to his very masculine form and planted a hard kiss upon her lips.
She had not been prepared. Never before had she felt quite so overwhelmed. She had perhaps just this once earned the nickname of baggage, because she was so thrilled in the moment, that she had not decried his boldness. Instead, she had allowed the kiss. Well, she supposed she did not really have a choice in the matter. She did not even have time to be afraid.
He had her in his arms, one hand laced through her hair and the other clasped her to him in a very ungentlemanly way. She should have been afraid. He was so audacious and overwhelmingly male, she found herself as meek as a kitten. She could not even utter a squeak. Such was not a disposition that others expected of Prudence – lioness perhaps, or jackal, but not kitten. She was certain that the earl’s passionate kiss had been a sign of their destined future, and then they were well and truly caught.
Once caught in such an embrace there had been no explaining it. Prudence had swooned in his arms and he had held her. He had kissed her quite thoroughly and she imagined that she looked quite flushed and disheveled with the whole affair when Mrs. Hardcastle came upon them and exclaimed her outrage. She couldn’t even blame Mrs. Hardcastle for outing them. After all, the woman knew Prudence was contending for a husband. Mrs. Hardcastle knew her situation, and she saw a solution. Prudence took it. Perhaps she should thank the woman.
Prudence twirled a recalcitrant curl around her finger, tucking it into place.
Perhaps the earl loved her, Prudence thought suddenly. She wondered, could it be love at first sight on his behalf? She could only hope that love might grow between them, but no matter. It would be better than home. She had to believe that.
Still, as the passion of their wedding night approached, Prudence could not help but worry. She remembered the earl’s embrace. It had not been full of love, but full of lust. She shuddered with the thought, but she reminded herself, she would be his wife. She would have stature.
He was simply overcome with passion in the stable. He would not treat his wife so callously. On their wedding night she was sure he would apologize for his previous behavior, and she would forgive him. He would be her husband and offer her his protection. She would suffer his embrace. This she could do.
He would be more caring this time, she thought. He would be gentler and gentlemanly. She had thought of little else but the wedding night for weeks prior to today, though she had never had the opportunity to be alone with her betrothed. In fact, she had not seen the earl at all. If she were not currently looking at her wedding finery, she would have wondered if this was really the morning of her nuptials.
Father would walk her down the aisle. With any luck this would be the last time the man would touch her. She remembered Father’s reaction when the news of her indiscretion reached him. He was, as was to be expected, furious. But after today, his wrath would not be able to touch her. She would be under her husband’s protection. She smiled.
Prudence was just pleased to have escaped her father’s grasp once and for all. Now, with a wealthy husband, she could lead the sort of life that she, and her many sisters, had always dreamed of. Her sisters. She would allow them all to visit as often as they could. She would shelter them. She would not abandon them like her older sister Temperance had done, running off to a convent rather than marrying. No. She, Prudence, would help them, just as soon as she was married to the earl.
“Mama,” Prudence had called. “I am ready.”
Her mother had entered the room with a smile as bright as the rising sun.
“You shall be beautiful,” she whispered into her daughter’s curls.
Prudence bit her lip. With several sisters well known for their timeless beauty and remarkable features, Prudence was more than aware of her plain face. Plump cheeks and a voluptuous frame softened any definable structure that was applauded in the willow thin bodies of her siblings. Even her eyes were nothing that would cause prose to be written in the throes of passion and love. Brown. Brown. Brown. Nothing more, nothing less. There was nothing special about her, Prudence thought. It was for that reason that she had allowed her mother to doll her up in extravagant costumes that might help her to stand out amongst the crowd of beautiful debutantes.
As Prudence stepped into her wedding gown, which was soon pulled tight by her mother’s practiced fingers, she began to worry.
“Mama,” she whispered. “Lord Fondleton… he is a good man, is he not?”
“He is an earl,” her mother replied as if that were all the answer needed.
Prudence thought on her mother’s words for a long while. Titled gentlemen were expected to be above all others in regard to their morality and character. Still… she wondered. He seemed nice enough. He offered plenty of smiles and compliments, but so did her father. In public, he seemed the perfect gentleman. In private, he was a monster.
“Papa is a viscount,” she muttered but, if her mother heard her, the Viscountess Mortel did not respond.