Free My Lady, My Lord by Katharine Ashe Page B

or not.” She turned upon the heel of his best pair of boots and marched away in little mincing strides.
    Ian ground his teeth and headed back to his horse.

Chapter Nine
    H E DIDN’T EVEN TRY .
    No, that wasn’t true. He did try. He tried to make her sound as idiotic as possible. He tried to say the most inappropriate things he could. He tried at every opportunity to turn the otherwise elevated conversation to inane, inconsequential matters—the weather, Lady March’s gown, the rug, draperies, even the teacakes. He tried to make her look thoroughly foolish in the eyes of the two-dozen handpicked guests present at the countess’s exclusive political tea.
    Handpicked except for the Earl of Chance, of course. Corinna had ridden the most placid mount in his stable to Lady March’s street, then waited for her own carriage to turn the corner and approach the house. He looked surprised to see her, then sly as he took her extended arm and went in with her, stomping up the steps like a dairymaid.
    He made a superficial excuse for bringing the Earl of Chance along, but Lady March was unfailingly gracious, seemingly delighted to see the earl. Others recognized her, casting her curious glances but too polite to remark upon Lord Chance’s odd presence at such a gathering.
    Then the horror began.
    Corinna really believed he made an effort at it. No one could be that stupid or uninformed. He was a Peer, for pity’s sake, and he’d long since taken his seat in the House of Lords. He had to read the
Times
at least occasionally. She’d seen it on his breakfast table two mornings in a row, after all.
    At least Lord Pelley was not present. He might hear of her idiocy from the others at the gathering. But most of them were serious people and probably wouldn’t gossip. She still had hope.
    Hope, that was, if she ever inhabited her own body again.
    She stared at Ian making a mockery of her life, and bit down on tears. Eventually she could no longer bear it. Offering thanks to her hostess for the gracious hospitality, she fled. Taking advantage of the sunny afternoon and her fine mount, she rode to the park to work off her misery.
    Rotten Row was crammed at the fashionable hour, and Corinna regretted the choice as soon as she arrived. She recognized friends here and there, but most of them wouldn’t know what to make of it if the Earl of Chance approached them to chat. Sinking further into gloom, she almost ran headlong into Marquess Drake and Lord Grace when they appeared before her.
    “Gathering wool, old man?” The marquess laughed, his belly jiggling despite the obvious presence of stays beneath his coat. His chest puffed out like a strutting cock’s.
    At least Ian didn’t employ such vain devices. Though, of course, he didn’t need to. Corinna had again averted her gaze from the mirror while the valet dressed her after the impromptu haircutting, but she knew from her clothed appearance and the sensation of strength in her body that Ian was a well-formed man. And women continually swooned over him.
    Nausea swirled in her empty stomach. She hadn’t been able to eat lunch, too worried about Ian’s determination to attend Lady March’s gathering. She’d had reason to worry.
    Oh God, why her? Why him?
Why this?
    “What are you doing on that, Chance?” Marquess Drake looked askance at her little mare.
    “She is a perfectly lovely horse,” Corinna defended the animal. “She has a very tender mouth.” And she was small enough that it didn’t terrify Corinna to drop her legs to either side of the saddle.
    “Lovely?”
The marquess looked bemused. Lord Grace’s handsome face was set in skeptical lines.
    “What is amiss?” Corinna insisted.
    “She’s a fine animal, Chance. All your horses are, of course,” Lord Grace said. “But didn’t you purchase that one for your mother?”
    Corinna’s tongue failed her. Ian kept a horse in his stable in town for Lady Chance? She wouldn’t have thought him capable of the