Her cheeks brightened and she took a hesitant step toward him. “Please forgive my sisters, sir.”
Clearing his throat, he lifted his chin and proceeded out the door. The younger girls gasped and quickly scurried away. But the older sister stood stiffly, her gaze fixed on him.
“I apologize for my sisters trespassing on your lands. It shan’t happen again.”
“I would hope not,” Adrian snapped. “That is very ill-mannered.”
Her cheeks tinted pink as she scanned his attire. “Are you… one of the earls?”
“I am not. The Earl of Hanover and his brother, Lord William, aren’t currently at the manor.”
Her eyes widened, and he realized they were a lovely blue. For a moment, he thought they resembled the sky on a clear day. He quickly pushed that sappy thought out of his head.
“Shouldn’t the earl and his brother be getting ready for the party this evening?” she asked.
Adrian chuckled. “They will be ready, I assure you. We expect them to arrive very shortly.”
“Oh.” Her gaze slid over him. “Are you, um… one of the servants?”
“No. I’m their cousin from…” His mind scrambled to find a word. “Whitby.”
She curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Miss Bridget Hartwell. Our small farm is not more than two miles east of here.”
“Will you be attending tonight’s event?” Adrian asked.
“I suppose, since my father and my sisters were all invited.” She sighed heavily. “That’s assuming, of course, we are still invited after what my sisters have done. I must apologize again for their unseemly behavior. They should not have trespassed.”
Adrian tried not to grin. This woman had read his thoughts. “I thank you for saying that.” He bowed slightly. “I suppose I should leave now so I can ready myself for the party.” He picked at the dirty jacket. “My cousin would be appalled if I showed up looking like this.”
Her laugh was light. “Then I hope to see you later this evening.”
“And I hope to see you as well, Miss Hartwell.”
He watched her leave as he slowly made his way back inside the manor. Well, now that he had put his plan in motion, Collin couldn’t possibly object. From here on out, Adrian would be the country cousin from Whitby.
Pausing at the door, he frowned. His brotherdidmake it a habit of disagreeing with everything Adrian wanted to do. It would be interesting to see who would win tonight’s argument.
Chapter Two
In Bridget Hartwell’sworld, there was no such thing as peace and quiet. Unless she left the house. Of course, being the eldest sister, there was bound to be some bickering back and forth, some tattling and some yelling, and alargeamount of whining. Their mother had died ten years ago, leaving the raising of four daughters to their father. Sadly, most of the time Bridget felt more like a mother than a sibling.
The carriage bounced her in the seat as she stared out the window. Her father rode his horse next to the carriage as they made their way toward Hanover Hall. Sighing, she frowned. She envied her father, who didn’t have to be in the cramped space with her two arguing sisters. And she wasn’t looking forward to this ball as much as her sisters. Bridget did not do well mingling with high society.
Thankfully, her other sister Priscilla—who was a year younger than Bridget—was more mature than Jannette and Felicia. It was nice to have someone in her family who understood Bridget’s dreams and disappointments, and who would remain her closest friend until they were old and gray.
As the carriage turned onto the path toward Hanover Hall, the three-level manor with two adjoining wings stood out majestically. Outdoor lanterns were placed along the walkway heading toward the manor, and bright lights from the windows of the lower-level rooms helped guide the guests to the front porch.
Nervously, Bridget wrung her hands in her lap. Not more than an hour ago, Pa had taken her aside and explained how necessary it was to secure a wealthy husband. The farm hadn’t been producing as much, and the little funds they had been living off were quickly being depleted. Soon they would be penniless and living in squalor, unless a miracle happened.
Bridget believed in miracles, and she must do as her father instructed. She clenched her jaw. Being the eldest meant that she willingly took on the burden of finding the right man to wed for her family’s sake, and she prayed everything would happen the way it should.
She glanced at Priscilla sitting next to her. In Bridget’s opinion, Prissy should be the sister to land a wealthy husband. Her black, curly hair, bright blue eyes, and fair skin made her exceptionally pretty. Whereas Bridget could only describe herself in one word: drab. She had plain brown hair that was almost too curly for her ringlets to look natural, and the sprinkle of freckles across her nose proved how much she enjoyed being outdoors without a bonnet. She didn’t even enjoy wearing brightly colored dresses.
The rhythm of the horse’s hoofbeats decreased, and the two younger sisters gasped and practically hugged the window as they spied the manor while the driver prepared to stop.
Bridget’s stomach twisted. Even though she loved dancing, the very idea that she was here tonight to find a husband ruined her mood.
She shivered and clutched her shawl tighter around her shoulders.
