The Taming of the Countess

by Michelle Willingham

Genres: Victorian Romance; Family Life; Women's Fiction; Historical Romance

Synopsis

A Victorian retelling of The Taming of the Shrew full of emotion and spice! 

No gentleman can tempt her 

Except the one who got away… 

Rejected by the man she thought she’d marry, Evangeline Sinclair won’t be fooled again. Instead, she’s cultivating her reputation—as an indomitable shrew!  



When James, the new Earl of Penford, left Evie, it was because he knew he couldn’t give her the life she deserved. Now, returning after a traumatic experience abroad, he’s even less the man she needs.  



But when Evie’s defiance lands her in trouble with the law, the only way to protect her is marriage—if he can tame the stubborn miss into being his countess!

From Harlequin Historical: Your romantic escape to the past.

Release date: April 24, 2025

Publisher: Harlequin

Print pages: 272

Sample

CHAPTER ONE

Spring, 1844

Evangeline Sinclair hated being the centre of attention. She would have much preferred staying at home with her cat instead of attending the Duchess of Worthingstone’s ball. Or reading some of her favourite books on the settee. But sadly, she had no choice in the matter since the duchess was her aunt. Her mother had insisted upon a Season for her, and tonight the most eligible gentlemen in London would attend the gathering.

An anxious twist caught her stomach, even though she tried to tell herself that dozens of other young ladies would be there, including her dearest friends. It would be all right.

With any luck, he might be there—James Thornton, the current Viscount Melville and the future Earl of Penford.

Hopefully her future husband, if she could somehow capture his attention.

He’d certainly captured hers, for as long as she could remember. She’d known his sisters for years, and James had always been there. He was handsome and quiet, and she’d dreamed that one day, he would fall madly in love with her.

Sometimes he’d teased her when she’d been visiting Lily and Rose, which had made her adolescent heart flare. It meant he had noticed her. But unfortunately, James had never treated her with anything but brotherly affection.

Which was a problem. He simply didn’t see her. She could only hope that it would be different tonight when she made her début.

Her mother sat across from her in the coach and squeezed her hand. ‘It will be all right, Evie. Just smile and keep your shoulders straight. It’s not an execution.’

‘It feels like one.’ Her stomach was tied up in knots, as if she were about to walk towards her impending demise. She’d never been very good in large crowds, and she couldn’t imagine being anything but a wallflower. The thought of men flirting with her really did make her feel as if she were about to attend her own hanging.

‘You will be fine.’ Margaret continued holding her hand. ‘You are a lovely young lady, and I am confident you will find dozens of suitors.’

Not the right one, Evangeline thought to herself.

She wanted so badly for this evening to go well, for Lord Melville to ask her to dance and perhaps see her as a woman.

More likely, he would treat her the same way he had during the past ten years—like his sister’s best friend.

She also imagined that everyone would stare at her and probably not for the right reasons. Her heart started pounding, and her palms grew sweaty inside her gloves. More than once, she wished she didn’t have to do this. She didn’t want to be a débutante or follow the thousands of society rules. All she wanted was to be happily married to the viscount and have a large family with lots of babies. But she desperately feared that Lord Melville would never care for her the way she did for him.

Deep inside, Evangeline had the bone-deep fear that no one would ever see her for who she was. Whenever they looked at her, they saw only a young woman surrounded by a scandalous family and a generous dowry that couldn’t quite make up for it. She was slightly plump because she had a tendency to eat cake when she was upset. Which was a bit too often for her mother’s tastes. Then, too, Evangeline didn’t consider herself a beauty. Her hair was entirely too dark, almost the colour of a raven. Her eyes were nice enough, a clear blue. But her pale skin made her look wretched, as if she were sickly.

Tonight, her mother had made her wear a white gown, which only made her ghostly complexion appear worse. She’d tried to make Evangeline wear diamonds, too, but at that, Evie drew the line. It was bad enough that her family was ridiculously wealthy—she didn’t have to flaunt it.

‘Are you all right?’ Margaret asked gently. ‘You look as if you’re about to be sick.’

‘I feel like a sacrificial virgin,’ Evangeline sighed. ‘I despise this dress. I look wretched in white.’

Her mother reached out to take her hand. ‘You look like every young girl who is about to make her debut. You’re going to be fine. Just…try not to speak your mind. For two hours at least.’

‘Must I be silent?’ She gripped her palms together and regarded her mother.

‘Of course not. But… Evie, you tend to say whatever you are thinking. And sometimes it’s not, well, quite what others want to hear.’

A hint of a smile caught her mouth. ‘Are you saying I’m rude?’

‘Precocious,’ her mother corrected. ‘If you would simply think before you speak, it would be so

 much easier.’

Easier for the men, her mother meant. Margaret wanted her to hide who she was and pretend to be like the rest of the sweet lambs on the marital auction block. Truthfully, Evangeline wanted to behave herself and be like all the others. But sometimes the words just blurted right out of her mouth like a runaway horse before she could stop them.

‘I’ll try.’ It was the best she could do, and her mother reached out to squeeze her hand in support.

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the ducal residence. Evangeline paused to watch the guests arriving in silks and satins. In many ways, she was grateful to have her debut at her aunt’s ball. She would be among family during the most terrifying moment of her life. And although she wasn’t the blue-blooded daughter of a nobleman, her aunt would never let anyone speak a word against her. Evangeline had visited the house so many times, she knew every room. Which meant there were many places to hide if this night turned out to be as miserable as she thought it might be.

‘Are you ready?’ her mother asked. ‘You do look lovely, Evie.’

‘No, I’m not ready,’ she answered. ‘But I don’t suppose I’ll ever be.’ Her stomach was still lurching, and she clenched her skirts, hoping she could somehow find her confidence.

‘You might find the husband of your dreams,’ Margaret murmured. ‘I believe you will.’

She thought it more likely that she’d find a fortune hunter but didn’t say so. Her mother was so hopeful on her behalf, but Evie didn’t want to ruin Margaret’s wishes.

They entered her aunt’s house, where they were announced by a footman. Though Evangeline had visited Aunt Victoria during balls in the past, this was her first time as a true guest. She knew her mother and aunt had undoubtedly concocted a list of suitors for her, but she didn’t want their help. At least, not tonight. She’d never told them about her feelings for James Thornton out of fear of their meddling.

As she passed a group of people, she saw the familiar, knowing smirks. Margaret’s posture stiffened, and she raised her chin and smiled. ‘Ignore them, Evangeline.’

Although her mother and father had built an empire of wealth, most of society looked down on them because her father was a Highlander who possessed no title. Her mother helped him manage a business, and most regarded them as being of the merchant class. It didn’t seem to matter that Evie’s grandfather had been a baron or that her aunts had married well. She and her parents weren’t invited to most of the gatherings except those hosted by family.

But Evie firmly believed that if a man avoided her because of her father’s lack of a title or because of their family’s business, then he wasn’t the sort of husband she wanted.

She brightened when she saw that the husband she did want was standing on the other side of the room.

‘Excuse me, Mother. I see Lily.’ She hurried towards her best friend, and her heartbeat quickened at the sight of Viscount Melville, who stood beside his sister. Dear Lord, the man was magnificent. His brown hair had a hint of red, and his green eyes were the colour of spring leaves. He was tall, strong, and there was a restless spirit about him, as if he were caged in society. He reminded her of a wild animal, pacing behind invisible bars.

She understood that feeling all too well, even if her prison was formed of silks and ribbons.

‘Evie! I’m so glad you’re here.’ Lily smiled at the sight of her and beamed. Her best friend wore a light blue gown trimmed with cream lace, while her older sister, Rose,

wore a mauve gown.

Though Rose had made her debut earlier, she had not yet settled on a husband. Lily, on the other hand, was deeply in love with the Earl of Arnsbury. Evie was quite confident that Lily would marry the man someday. They made a striking pair, and it warmed her heart to see them together.

‘James, don’t be rude. Say something to Miss Sinclair,’ Lily urged her brother.

The earl sent Evangeline an amused, knowing smile that made her face flush. ‘Something.’ The single word was a taunting act of rebellion against his sister. Evangeline hid her smile, trying not to reveal her secret adoration.

At that, Lily elbowed him in the ribs. ‘Be polite. You’re acting like a beast.’

‘But I’m always polite.’ With that, he gave Evangeline a slight nod and a wicked smile that made her go breathless. Lord Melville was a man who broke all the rules, and his eyes held an insolent stare that provoked her own desire to defy her mother’s expectations.

If she’d had a choice, she would wear sapphire blue, not white. She would dance with Lord Melville and say exactly what was on her mind. She’d known him for so many years, it was easy enough to talk with him.

‘Hello, Lord Melville.’ Before she could stop herself, her mouth ran away with her again. ‘Are you hoping to find a bride at the ball tonight?’ The moment the words broke free, she wanted to curse herself.

Idiot. Why had she ever voiced such an idea? She couldn’t have said anything worse.

‘God forbid,’ Melville answered cheerfully. ‘I intend to remain a bachelor, free from marital chains for as long as possible.’

Oh. She should have expected this, but his response felt like a kick in the stomach. She braced herself and took another breath. ‘Marriage isn’t imprisonment, Lord Melville.’

‘Yes, it is,’ he countered. ‘The moment I marry, I’ll be trapped for the rest of my life. I’ll never be able to see the world or go exploring.’

She’d never realised that he wanted to travel. Rose and Lily quietly stepped back to let them talk. ‘You’re serious, then?’

His expression shifted, and in his eyes, she saw his longing. Though she wished he would look at her in that way, somehow, she knew it wouldn’t happen. Not yet.

‘All my life, I’ve wanted to leave England,’ he admitted. He glanced around him. ‘Don’t you ever feel like all this is an illusion? It’s not the real world.’ His gaze turned distant, as if his mind had wandered half a world away.

‘And what do you consider the real world?’ She kept her voice quiet so as not to let anyone else overhear them.

‘It’s difficult to say, since I’ve never been farther than Scotland or Wales.’ He saw a few matrons approaching him with their daughters, so he offered Evie his arm. ‘Walk with me so I don’t have to speak to them.’

She rested her gloved hand on his sleeve, feeling as if they were conspiring together. He led her around the edge of the room, and her heartbeat quickened.

‘Where would you travel if you could?’ she asked.

‘India, I think. My father has shipping investments there. It would be a good excuse to see another part of the world.’

‘So far away,’ she murmured. The idea of travelling so long was unimaginable. And from the way he spoke of it, she feared he intended to go soon.

He slowed his pace. ‘Yes. I’ve a need to stretch my wings, to escape this place.’

‘Why? What’s so terrible

about England?’

‘All the women are here, searching for a husband.’ His hands closed atop hers, and she tried to suppress the thrill of his touch. ‘The bachelors are searching for a dowry to pay off their debts. The marriages mean nothing at all.’

She shouldn’t have been surprised by his words, but they did make her pause. ‘Not everyone sees marriage as you do,’ she countered. ‘I, for one, intend to find someone who is kind and someone I can love. My own parents have been quite happy together. Marriage can be wonderful.’

‘I wish you luck, then,’ he said. ‘Even if I don’t share your views.’

With a slight bow, he departed, leaving her to stand alone. Though she should have expected his reluctance to wed, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret. Her brain warned that she ought to look elsewhere for love. He’d made his position clear enough. And yet, her heart had savoured the few moments she’d spent with him.

With a sigh, she walked towards a group of unmarried young women. There were several bachelors speaking to them, and she decided to try her luck there.

It might not be so bad, she told herself.

Surely there had to be at least one gentleman who would not judge her by her family’s business.

She braved a smile and crossed the room. Once she reached the group of young women, she smiled at Miss Everett, a lady she had met before. But the young woman said nothing and turned back to the others. It was as if Evie were invisible.

Her instincts sharpened, and she tried to shield herself from the rising embarrassment. It was happening again—the silent cut direct. But before she could decide what to do, one of the gentlemen spoke. ‘Ah. Miss Sinclair, isn’t it?’

She hesitated, not knowing what to say. It wasn’t entirely proper to be speaking to this man when they hadn’t been formally introduced, and she wondered exactly how she should respond. With a quick glance behind her, she saw that her mother was standing on the opposite side of the room beside her sister, the duchess.

‘What a perfect evening, wouldn’t you agree?’ His tone rang out with false courtesy. There was something about the smug expression on his face that put her on her guard, and he gave an exaggerated bow. ‘Would you care to dance? Surely you have plenty of empty spaces on your dance card.’

He was mocking her; she could see it in his eyes. His pompous demeanour was meant to put her down. But she would not play any part in it.

She offered him her sunniest smile and gave a slight curtsy. ‘No, thank you, sir.’

I don’t dance with men who make fun of me.

‘Oh, come, now. Who else will ask you to dance if you don’t dance with me?’

The men standing around broke into laughter, and several of the young ladies tittered behind their fans.

Evangeline felt her face burning, but she kept her shoulders square and walked past all of them. No doubt her mother would be appalled at her behaviour, but she simply couldn’t stand the man.

Part of her worried that she’d been overreacting, but her instincts warned that she was right because of the way the other ladies had laughed. She had been the subject of a joke, and it bothered her deeply.

Not all men are that 

that way, she reminded herself, thinking of the viscount.

Lord Melville was a good man, even if he did intend to abandon his responsibilities and travel. She braved a smile and told herself that it would be all right. Lily and Rose were dancing, and so she took a moment to slip away from the rest of the guests, keeping her back to the wall.

Her dance card was empty and would likely remain that way until her mother or aunt intervened. Evie tried to force a smile on her face, but it grew strained when she saw the couples turning and promenading during a country dance.

You’re being a coward again, she told herself.

She needed to stop worrying about what others thought and simply try to get through the evening.

She took a deep breath and then moved into her wallflower position at the back of the room. Her friend Lily was dancing with the Earl of Arnsbury. Lily appeared besotted with the man, and it made a softness bloom within Evangeline. Perhaps one day a man would look at her like that. She didn’t want to accept anything less.

Evangeline heard a slight cough nearby, and when she turned, she saw another man venturing a smile at her. ‘Forgive me that we’ve not had a formal introduction yet. But perhaps we can arrange one. I am Sir Lionel Norwood.’

Evangeline glanced around, but no, he really was talking to her. A tendril of hope bloomed inside, though she knew it wasn’t exactly proper. Neither her mother nor any other matrons were nearby—only other unmarried young ladies, like herself.

Still, it would be rude not to listen to him, so she waited.

His expression appeared hopeful. ‘I wondered if you, that is, if you might be willing to—that is, if you’re not already spoken for—perhaps you might…wish to dance?’

His nerves were as terrible as her own had been. And perhaps that was why she took pity on the man. At least he hadn’t attempted to mock her or smirk at her. She set aside her own feelings of awkwardness and nodded. ...