Page 35 of Ruined by the Wrong Earl

‘Here! Here!’ other lords shouted.

The Speaker cleared his voice. ‘Lord Ralston’s bill shall be entered for the second reading. You can further debate the merits of the bill before voting.’

On the way out of the chambers after the session ended, Ralston ran into Lord Weber.

‘You are championing a losing cause,’ Weber said.

‘Oh? Are you concerned? What textile owner has paid a visit to your home?’ Ralston asked.

Weber scoffed. ‘I wouldn’t admit to anything even if it were true. You know what you propose is unpopular.’

Ralston was curious but kept his voice calm. ‘With whom?’

‘I have more lords on my side,’ Weber said with confidence. ‘Withdraw the bill before you are humiliated.’

‘You are that concerned I’ll win, aren’t you?’ Ralston knew Weber disliked being challenged and he hated being taunted. He’d watched his nemesis for over a year when he’d stood in front of the lords to argue or debate.

Lord Weber’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t say I didn’t give you proper warning.’

Ralston watched his adversary turn and walk away. He believed in his cause, but he also knew never to underestimate a snake like Lord Weber.

A microscope arrived in a wooden box a few days later. Nora had been fortunate that whoever had placed the order for the instrument no longer had the funds to purchase it and she was able to obtain one so swiftly. The housekeeper, Mrs Hanning, was the first to notify Nora of its delivery.

‘What is it, my lady?’ Mrs Hanning asked.

Nora had established a good rapport with the head housekeeper, and she knew she would rely on her expertise to run the household smoothly. ‘It’s a microscope,’ Nora explained. ‘I want to study shells as well as some mollusk specimens.’

The housekeeper blinked. ‘Pardon?’

‘Seashells.’ Nora described her interest as simply as possible. The two women had learned how to get along since the wedding. Mrs Hanning was competent and professional. Nora was happy not to intrude with her duties. It gave her time to pursue her science.

Mrs Hanning hesitated for the briefest moment before nodding. She eyed the wooden box. ‘Where should I have a footman store it?’

It was a good question. One Nora hadn’t considered the answer to. She cleared her throat. ‘My bedchamber.’

She could set up the microscope on her escritoire and open the drapes to let in sunlight so she could clearly see her specimens and make her notes. Her books had already been delivered and were currently in a crate in the corner of her room. Her precious shells had been carefully packed in paper and were stored in another crate. Her bedchamber was spacious, much more so than her bedchamber at home, but once she unpacked everything, it would quickly become cramped. At home, Nora had ‘inherited’ many items after her father’s death and had stored them in crates. There had been books, more precious shells, along with items he’d traded during his career, vases, snuff boxes and bronze bowls. No one else in her family had wanted the items. She’d kept a mother of pearl jewelry box for herself.

Mrs Hanning called over a footman and instructed him to deliver the box to Nora’s bedchamber.

‘Thank you, Mrs Hanning,’ Nora said. ‘I am grateful for your assistance.’

‘Of course, my lady. There is the garden party later today. His Lordship will return to escort you. Shall I have Jane lay out a suitable dress?’

Nora paused. The mention of Lady Leticia’s garden party sent a flutter through her chest, not of excitement but anxiety. At least it wasn’t a ball—those were much more formal, but a garden party was no refuge. Members of the ton would still be present, still watching, still whispering.

They would want to know how she, the daughter of a Middle Eastern merchant, had come to bear the title Countess of Ralston. They’d want to know details about how she and Ralston had met. Her concocted story, so unlikely and so at odds with their expectations, would surely invite scrutiny. She’d rarely associated with the ton and had little in common with the ladies.

And yet, her circumstances had changed.

Realizing Mrs Hanning awaited her reply, Nora composed herself. ‘Yes. Please ask Jane to expect me shortly.’ She’d brought her maid with her when she’d moved into her new home.

When Jane dressed her later that afternoon, Nora allowed herself to admire the gown—purple silk with slashed sleeves and embroidered roses adorning the hemline. Her auburn hair was upswept at the sides, held in place by twin pearl combs, with the rest left to cascade down her back. She studied herself in the looking glass and, for the first time since her wedding, acknowledged that she did, in fact, look the part of a countess.

Still, looking the part and feeling it were two very different things.

Ralston arrived just after the hour. The sharp lines of his navy coat emphasized his broad shoulders and his buckskin breeches hugged muscular thighs. His gaze swept over her slowly, appreciatively.

‘You look lovely,’ he said, voice low and warm. ‘The ladies will all want to meet you.’