Laurie Benson - An Unexpected Countess

‘Oh, do hush, Hartwick. If I could push you over right now, I would.’

The teasing grin on his face made it difficult to hold back her smile.

As they resumed walking, his attention dropped to the hem of her skirt and his brow wrinkled. ‘Have you injured your foot? Has Boreham finally done permanent damage to one of his dancing partners?’

If only she could use the clumsy lord as her excuse for the way she was walking. She attempted to adjust her gait, trying not to step directly onto the bracelet lodged in her shoe. Deflection was her best option. ‘What do you know of Lord Boreham’s knack for harming his dance partners?’

‘Since we were at Cambridge, I’ve witnessed many a woman leave the dance floors of England with a limp. So what is causing yours?’

‘I do not have a limp.’

‘Forgive me, your hobble.’

‘I tied my slipper too tight.’

‘Then we should stop so you can adjust it.’

‘It will loosen as we walk.’

‘Or it will loosen faster if we don’t stop and you retie it.’ He tugged her arm, bringing them to a halt.

She could retie it twenty times and it would not make one bit of difference. ‘It is best not to keep the others waiting. I assure you, it’s no inconvenience on my part. It will loosen on its own.’

Those sharp eyes narrowed on her, making her palms sweat.

A curious smile spread across his lips. ‘You are an unusual creature, Miss Forrester.’

As they finally reached the doorway of the library, Sarah was relieved she hadn’t jingled once during their short walk. However, she could not have the bracelet remain in her slipper the entire night. Eventually her hobble would give her away.

She noted Hartwick’s attention was drawn to the far end of the room where Sarah’s mother was speaking with Lady Everill.

‘Are you acquainted with her ladyship?’ Sarah asked, taking note of his furrowed brow.

‘We’ve met once or twice.’ He looked over at Sarah. ‘We don’t generally move in the same circles.’

‘I imagine conversing with chaperons is not your preference.’

‘I avoid it at all costs, if I’m honest. I don’t want them assuming that I’ve decided to find a bride.’

The Dowager cleared her throat, bringing everyone’s attention towards where she stood on the opposite end of the room near the massive fireplace. ‘I have invited you all here tonight to share with you the wonders of electricity.’

Sarah glanced at Hartwick, who eyed her sideways. All Sarah knew of electricity was the experiment she heard Mr Franklin had conducted with a kite over thirty years ago and Signor Galvani’s experiments on the reactions of muscles to electricity.

‘I’ve purchased an electrifying machine,’ she continued, stepping to the side and revealing a small cylinder on legs that came up to the petite Dowager’s knees. ‘It is ingenious really. If we crank this handle, it will create friction, which will carry an electrical shock from the machine through this string. If someone holds the string and you touch that person, the electricity will flow through them and into you.’ She looked around eagerly at her guests. ‘If one person would like to crank the machine, the rest of us can hold hands and receive a spark. Doesn’t that sound exciting?’

It did actually. How many people could say they knew what it was like to feel electricity move through their body?

‘Is it safe?’ Sarah’s father asked sceptically.

‘They would not sell them if they were not.’

He bobbed his head from side to side. ‘I don’t believe that’s entirely true.’

‘You may be our cranker, if you like, Mr Forrester,’ she said, apparently not wanting to miss the electrical shock herself.

Sarah’s father approached her side. ‘Do not hold that string,’ he quietly warned her.

Since Alexander died, he had become very protective of her. As a child, he had encouraged her adventurous nature. He had found it amusing. But now he feared he would lose her, too, and she was all he had left of his children. Yet how could he expect her to miss all the fun? Who knew if she would ever have the opportunity to try this again? And it was safe. The Dowager had confirmed it.

So when the stately old woman asked who would like to hold the string, Sarah couldn’t stop herself from immediately stepping forward—at the exact moment Hartwick did the same. They looked at each other and surprise flickered in his eyes.

There was a distinct clearing of her father’s throat behind her.

The Dowager clucked her tongue. ‘Only Lord Hartwick and Miss Forrester are brave enough to have a go?’

Katrina eyed the machine near her foot. ‘What does it feel like?’

‘A wonderful zing moves through your body,’ the Dowager replied, looking pointedly at Lord Sissinghurst.

‘Perhaps it’s best if a man holds the string,’ Sarah’s father said, still not convinced she would not spontaneously combust if she held it. ‘His body is more sound,’ he continued. ‘It will hold the greater amount of shock.’

Hartwick bounced on his toes as if he was restraining himself from going after the string. ‘Fear not, Mr Forrester. I shall be the sacrificial lamb and spare your daughter.’

But Sarah wanted to feel the shock first! Why should men have all the excitement in life? As the daughter of a diplomat she was forced to suppress her daring nature and appear subdued—or as close to subdued as was possible for Sarah. Back home, her brother had taught her how to ride a horse sitting astride without a saddle. She had climbed trees, swam in the ocean and had allowed two different men to kiss her. She lived for new experiences—experiences like having electricity run through her body.

‘The shock will be the same regardless of the size of the person holding the string, Mr Forrester,’ the Dowager replied to his question.

‘How long will it last?’ Lord Everill enquired from where he was inspecting the device over the rim of his spectacles.

‘As long as we continue to turn the crank and generate the friction.’

Lady Everill’s eyes grew wide. ‘How long do you intend for that to be?’

The Dowager shrugged. ‘However long we want. The residual effects can be quite fun. Electricity can make the strands of your hair raise. You can pick small pieces of paper up by merely waving your hand over them. And if you kiss someone who has been electrified, you will feel a sharp spark of fire from their lips.’

‘Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,’ Katrina said, stepping away from the device and approaching her husband’s side.

‘Their lips catch fire?’ Lady Everill all but shrieked.

‘No, Harriet, but it feels that way.’ The Dowager glanced once again at Lord Sissinghurst and they shared a smile. ‘Or so I’ve been told.’

‘Oh, dear Lord,’ Lyonsdale groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Sarah looked at Hartwick, who was rubbing his lips as if to wipe a grin off them. It wasn’t working very well.

If Sarah didn’t know any better, she would think the Dowager and Lord Sissinghurst had tried the kissing experiment themselves, but the woman had to be in her seventies. Surely people had no interest in kissing at that age. Did they?

The Dowager walked back to the machine. ‘I promise you. We will start with a short spark of electricity. It will not harm you. I know you are all curious. I am not the first person in London to hold an electrical soirée. Certainly you have heard of the others. Wouldn’t you love to say you have tried it, too?’

That was all it took for Lady Everill to agree. ‘I’ll do it,’ she said much too quickly.

Then everyone seemed to be in agreement.

‘Capital,’ the Dowager said with excitement shining in her eyes. We will try a few experiments for fun. Be warned, you should remove any substantial metal from your person. That would include jewellery, snuff boxes and the like.’