The Mistletoe Countess (FREDRICK & GRACE MYSTERY #1) by Pepper Basham EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: Pepper Basham
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.2 MB
- Price: Free
November 25, 1913
Willow, Virginia
Every fairy tale needed an appropriate castle.
Gracelynn Ferguson gripped the Model T’s window frame and leaned
forward, breath caught in a suppressed gasp. An unexpectedly warm
November breeze brushed against her heated cheeks, inciting a thrill of
anticipation. As if two black curtains rolled back on a stage, a pair of ornate
iron gates stood on either side of the drive, welcoming the car forward.
Grace angled farther, waiting for the great unveiling and holding her hat
in place against the wind.
One turn around a hedgerow of braided vines showcased this hidden gem
of the Blue Ridge Mountains. The palace of the Shenandoah.
Whitlock.
Framed by blue-tipped mountains and rolling green hills, the Italian-style
mansion stood as an edifice of white marble and colonnades, with two
dazzling towers at each corner gleaming in the late morning sunlight. Yes, it
was indeed very castle-like and the perfect place for her sister and the Earl
of Astley to begin their lifelong romance.
“Good heavens, Grace, sit back before the servants see you hanging your
head out the window like a dog.” Lillias’s reprimand sliced into Grace’s
whimsical admiration, but Grace shrugged off her sister’s rebuke with a
deep breath of…pine.
Ah, country life suited her sensibilities much more than their stuffy
Richmond town house. And Whitlock? Her favorite place in all the world,
with a labyrinth of familiar passageways and spaces to explore or hide in
from stuff-shirted wedding guests, as the case may be.
“Really, Grace. The wind is loosening your hair from its pins.” Her
sister’s voice pinched tight. “I’ll not have my future husband embarrassed at
the sight of you showing up in such a state.”
“No one will notice me when you’re near.” Grace pushed her loose
strands from her face and twisted her neck to appreciate how Whitlock’s
snowy towers contrasted against the azure sky. The towers served as
excellent hiding spots too.
“They’ll certainly notice if a ginger-headed wildling enters the house
instead of the refined young lady you are supposed to be.” Lillias’s volume
hovered on the edge of unladylike. “And Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock were so
kind to offer their home for the house party. Would you wish to embarrass
them too?”
Grace pulled her head inside so quickly she almost hit her cloche hat on
the frame. The last thing she’d ever wish was to bring pain to Whitlock’s
magnanimous master and mistress. Though she couldn’t quite understand
how her unruly hairstyle would shame the Whitlocks. If anything tempted
trouble, it was her scandalous red hair, whatever its coiffure.
“Grace.” Her father’s deep voice melted into the conversation, a soft
familiar rumble. “It’s a mercy that you’re not the one marrying an English
earl, or the poor man would have a job on his hands.”
Her grin perked at her father’s gentle teasing. “Which is why I’m
particularly glad my sister bears the burden of marrying for circumstance,
so that I can engage myself to some insignificant farmer and live in
obscurity with my garden, books, and passel of rambunctious children.”
“Oh, good heavens,” Lillias pressed her fingers into her forehead and
shrank back into the black leather seat. “You say the most ridiculous
things.”
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