The Earl's American Heiress
From American heiress… …to his convenient Countess! When American schoolteacher, Clementine Maccoish, rescues a handsome stranger from perilously drowning late at night, she’s stunned to discover he’s actually Heath Cavill—the Earl of Fencroft—and the man she’s conveniently betrothed to! He has a reputation for being a man of mystery, so what was he doing outside so late? Intrigued by his secrets, Clementine wishes to find out the truth before she walks down the aisle to wed him!
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From American heiress...
...to his convenient countess!
When American schoolteacher Clementine Maccoish rescues a handsome stranger from perilously drowning late at night, she’s stunned to discover he’s actually Heath Cavill—the Earl of Fencroft—and the man she’s conveniently betrothed to! He has a reputation for being a man of mystery, so what was he doing outside so late? Intrigued by his secrets, Clementine wishes to find out the truth before she walks down the aisle to wed him!
CAROL ARENS delights in tossing fictional characters into hot water, watching them steam, and then giving them a happily-ever-after. When she’s not writing she enjoys spending time with her family, beach-camping or lounging about in a mountain cabin. At home, she enjoys playing with her grandchildren and gardening. During rare spare moments you will find her snuggled up with a good book. Carol enjoys hearing from readers at [email protected] or on Facebook.
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Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.
ISBN: 978-1-474-08918-0
THE EARL’S AMERICAN HEIRESS
© 2019 Carol Arens
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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Dedicated to Brielle Mary Iaccino,
our sparkling, happy earth-angel.
Contents
Note to Readers
Santa Monica Beach, an afternoon in May 1889
One did not need to open one’s eyes to appreciate the majesty of the Pacific Ocean.
It was better, in fact, to keep them closed. Doing so made it easier to ignore the hustle and bustle of high society as it went through its prancing and posing at the Arcadia Hotel, grandly squatted three hundred yards down the shore from where Clementine Macooish stood.
With closed eyes one could better feel the rush of a cold wave across one’s bare feet and the tickle of shifting sand between one’s toes as the salt water retreated into the sea.
“Once the ocean laps at your toes, it will summon you home forever,” she muttered softly, even though no one was within shouting distance. “Or with one’s dying breath—no, not that—with one’s first gasp of eternity!”
That last was a vastly more positive thought. Beautiful thoughts often came to her when her eyes were closed. She would write this one down and share it with her students at Mayflower Academy.
Moist air, the cry of gulls circling overhead... Sensation became sharpened without the distraction of the outrageously incredible vista glittering all the way to the western horizon.
