The Earl's Countess Of Convenience. Marguerite Kaye

at her. ‘Do you like it?’

      ‘Like it! I love it. May we go for a drive?’

      ‘That was my intention. Excellent timing, Bennet,’ he said to the coachman who, having secured the reins of the two lively grey horses, jumped down, doffing his cap. ‘This is Lady Fearnoch.’

      ‘My lady, it is a pleasure to meet you. May I be the first to offer my congratulations.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      ‘Bennet is not a coachman by trade,’ Alexander said, as the other man opened the carriage door and let down the steps. ‘He is my personal servant. And I assure you,’ he added, pre-empting her anxious question, ‘very much in my confidence, and entirely trustworthy.’

      ‘Also, be assured, my lady, that I know how to handle the ribbons,’ the man said. ‘Now, if you will help her ladyship into the carriage, my lord, we can be off.’

      ‘My love?’ Alexander handed her, quite unnecessarily, up the steps, jumping in beside her. ‘Since this is your first day in London, and the first day of our new life together, I thought you might like a very short sightseeing drive.’

      ‘I would. I can’t think of anything more—it’s a wonderful idea, especially in a fine carriage such as this.’

      ‘It is called a barouche, and it is yours, as are the horses. There wasn’t time to have your coat of arms painted on the doors, but...’

      ‘I have a coat of arms?’

      ‘You are a countess. I am sure there must also be a cloak of ermine and a coronet somewhere, though I’m hoping that King George keeps his fragile hold on this earth for a few more years yet, and spares us the necessity of wearing either at the next coronation.’