Chapters (40)
- The Accidental Countess
- An Accidental Seduction
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Epilogue
- The Accidental Countess
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Epilogue
- Newsletter
- Excerpt from The Accidental Princess
- Also By Michelle Willingham
- About the Author
He’d been gone for only three days, but Emily’s uneasiness grew with each passing hour. Was the earl all right? Had his wounds healed fully?
Stop it. She took a deep breath and knelt down on the soft lawn of Falkirk House beside the herb garden. He’s gone. That was what you wanted.
But no matter how she tried to slip back into her former pattern of living, it wasn’t the same. With a pair of scissors, she hacked several handfuls of fresh thyme for the roasted chicken she had planned. Despondency seemed to settle over her shoulders, like a familiar burden. Normally the gardens lifted her spirits, particularly the scent of fresh herbs. And here, the large grove of Arbor vitae hid her from the house in a quiet green space.
What if the earl never came back? Or what if he divorced her? Her throat ached with unshed tears, even as she ordered herself not to cry. He hadn’t loved her when he’d offered to marry her. And now she simply had to live with those consequences.
A rough palm covered her mouth. She tried to scream, but her attacker’s fingers encircled her throat.
“If you make a sound, I’ll snap your neck,” he whispered. In a swift motion, he shoved her to the ground, pressing her face against the damp earth. Emily couldn’t breathe, her heart seizing with fear.
“You know what happened to your brother, don’t you?”
Her pulse raced at the knowledge that Daniel’s enemies had found her. She tried to nod.
“I want his papers, ledgers of all his investments. Where are they?”
He released his grip upon her mouth.
“I—I don’t know,” she stammered, lifting her chin to gasp for air.
Her attacker forced her back into the dirt, his fingers squeezing her neck. “Don’t lie to me.”
“Perhaps at my father’s house—”
Before she could say another word, she heard Royce calling out to her. “Aunt Emily!”
“Tell no one of this,” her enemy warned. “Or his children will suffer for it.” A fist collided with her ear, and she bit back a cry of pain.
When she turned around, the man was gone. Royce continued calling out to her, and Emily stumbled to her feet. With trembling hands, she wiped her face clean of the dirt.
They’ve found us was all she could think. Daniel’s enemies, perhaps even the man who had killed him.
She clenched her skirts, her gaze traveling down to the trampled herbs. Why did the man want her brother’s ledgers? His demands made no sense. Daniel’s business investments had never been anything but failures.
They weren’t safe here any longer. She could not allow Royce or Victoria to fall prey to her brother’s enemies. Wild thoughts of sending the children somewhere far away, maybe to America, crossed her mind.