Free Season for Temptation by Theresa Romain

‘ma’am’ me, you rascal. I dandled you on my knee when you were in nappies. Yes, yes, don’t you pull that face at me, Matheson. Your mother and I led the ton together in our youth and married the same season. Naturally, I visited all the time when you were a babe.
    â€œI think it is so much better to be a visitor than a parent,” she reflected. “You and your sister were darling creatures, of course. But children do so spoil the looks.” She patted her still-bright auburn hair.
    â€œIt is always a delight to hear your opinion, Lady Irving,” James replied, staring her straight in the eye. “I am especially gratified to know you remember me during my kindest and most innocent years. I do hope I never spit up on you.”
    â€œStuff,” said her ladyship, the hint of a smile on her face. “You are remarkably indelicate in the presence of a lady.”
    â€œI do beg pardon, ma’am,” James replied smoothly. “I was under the impression, when you brought up nappies, that all topics of conversation were acceptable.”
    The sound that came out of Lady Irving could only be described as a bark. With a nod of acknowledgment, she cast an appraising eye up and down his form before snapping to her maid to follow her up the stairs.
    As Lady Irving passed by Julia on her way upstairs, the younger woman heard her aunt mutter under her breath, “At least he’s got nice legs.”
    Well, that she could definitely agree with.
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    The household was back into a semblance of order by the evening, though Lady Irving again upset everyone at dinnertime by insisting on a strict order of precedence being observed as they all went in to dine. James had gotten rather used to meandering casually into the dining room night after night, chatting across the table, refusing every dish of fish—all behaviors that his mother (whose forceful personality he now understood a bit better, knowing she had been youthful friends with Lady Irving) would at best have frowned on, and at worst have had an apoplexy upon seeing. It was almost a novelty to have his arm seized in Lady Irving’s grip of iron and his less-than-eager steps led into the dining room.
    He noticed that she was not carrying the parrot on her shoulder now. That, at least, was something to be thankful for.
    Naturally, she most wanted to discuss the upcoming wedding and, once she got wind of it, the trip to Nicholls, both of which James was currently considering subjects non grata after Louisa’s less-than-ecstatic responses. He informed the gathered family of his plans to return there for a few weeks, but was effectively able to stem a storm of protest—mostly from Lady Irving and Julia, neither of whom had known of his plans to leave—by inviting everyone to come for a visit as soon as he had ensured the soundness of the house.
    â€œI suppose that’ll do,” Lady Irving granted. “It’ll be sadly flat here without a good-looking young man to liven things up, though.”
    James could only gape at her in surprise, much to the detriment of his dignity.
    Without further comment, her ladyship turned to Julia and added, “That expression right there. See it? That is why I say things like that. It’s worth more than gold to me to get a viscount’s jaw to drop.”
    â€œI want to make his jaw drop, too!” Julia cried. “James, can I?”
    â€œIf you ask me about it, you’re not likely to surprise me,” he explained. “And no . You shouldn’t try to startle people. No offense is meant, Lady Irving, but she shouldn’t come to London intending to shock the garters off the Prince Regent.”
    â€œThat would be hilarious,” Julia mused. “I wonder how I could get to meet him.”
    James thought of Prinny’s good-humored debauchery, his affairs and excesses. He didn’t want Julia anywhere near the prince’s garters. He