The Countess

The Countess Ever Lilac The Countess Copyright © 2023 by Ever Lilac. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. 1. Carolina This has to be every girl’s nightmare, marrying a man who doesn’t really want her. I naively used to think that every girl gets her dream man when she grows up but instead all I got is...a dark Count. I’m even a little scared to look straight at him. He has that kind of scowl that burns right through you and leaves you crying in agony. It’s a sharp contrast to the silky soft voice he uses, whenever he makes small talk or business. He used it when he said yes to my father’s suggestion that the two of us should marry. It wasn’t even the Count’s idea! Or mine. This is an arranged marriage, and yes they do still exist especially among the upper echelon. And here I am now, about to be married to a man that terrifies me and a tear slides down my cheek before making a splash in my extravagant bouquet consisting of orchids and roses. The count notices, giving me a side-eye and the scowl deepens. Already he’s displeased with me and I want to blush until I burst into flames. I’m not even pretty enough to be standing next to him. He’s a wild, dark, magnetic stallion while I look like I broke a mirror and am now doomed to seven years of pastiness and frazzled hair. I wish I was pretty enough to make him dumbfounded whenever he looks at me, pretty enough to make him crawl but I’m just not blessed in that way. My mother tells me I’m blessed in other ways, that I have a positive mindset and child bearing hips which any man would want to hold on to when he plunders me. I want to shiver every time she mentions my hips (and plundering), especially since I doubt the Count will ever want to use me in that way. I guess I’m sort of more like a portrait to him. A thing that will just float around in his manor, or preferably hang on the wall so that he can point at me and say, that’s wifey just in case anyone asks if he’s married. He’s older than most men I’ve ever been around and my baby brother grimaces every time somebody mentions our age gap. Ten years. That’s not a whole lot, is it? I feel myself tearing up even more when are vows are being exchanged. I’m going to leave everything behind just to go with this man who I don’t even know. Tomorrow I will wake up as Countess Lacoste instead of plain, old Carolina. The tears increase and I accidentally let out a snort that makes me sound like a little piglet. “Stop that,” the Count hisses from the corner of his mouth and his grip hardens around my hand. I take a couple of deep breaths, wishing he’d show some sympathy or even an ounce of warmth but there’s no damn warmth in him. The man’s an icicle, cold enough to discourage the glaciers from melting. I fear being in his bed, rolling around in the middle of the night just to accidentally bump into him and wake up with a runny nose and a cough. Turning around, I look at the crowd sitting in the pews. They watch us with mild expressions that make me want to scream. I want to end this, be one of those cool runaway brides that race down the street with their hair flowing behind them and a grin on their face that would make Julia Roberts jealous, but I just don’t have that privilege. If I did that, I would humiliate the Count and if there’s one thing he can’t tolerate its humiliation. His reputation means everything. He would hunt me down, chase me down the street , then drag me into his car and do who knows what? Maybe he’d hold a knife to my throat, or maybe he’d tell me to drop them underwear... I feel my face go red and I’m suddenly dizzy from the thoughts in my mind. Why did I even think that when he hates me? Maybe because I’m deep down a sucker for a looker and maybe I deep down yearn for him to like me. Really like me. Be crazy for me, rip my clothes off and growl as he bellows that I’m the love of his life. That won’t ever happen though. He’s just not the kind of man who...well, loves. I’m not completely sure what happens during the rest of the ceremony. It feels as if I’m in the middle of a dream and I think both of us say yes and when I look down at my hand, there’s a ring glimmering on my finger. I can’t even remember the Count putting it on. At least he finally got my name right because he kept calling me Clarissa, the first time we met in my father’s office. The one thing that pulls me out of the fog I’m in is the kiss he presses on my lips. It’s cold enough to make me twitch but soon after a stinging follows as if his mouth scorched me. This doesn’t bode well and I want to break everything off right now! But my now husband’s is too powerful and I’m now his kept woman. Somebody send help...Weak in the knees and with a faint smile on my face, I kiss my family goodbye. I take my time, trying not to weep and