Free My Fair Groom (The Sons of the Aristocracy) by Linda Rae Sande

Lady Julia mentioned what happened to her father, or worse, the head groom, Mr. Grimes would probably fire him. He needed this position! In just a few days, he would be making his way to the Seven Dials where Michael Regan’s widow lived with her children. He intended to give her enough money to pay the rent for a year and to buy food for a month. Without the pay he was counting on from his work in the stables, he would have nothing to live on unless he borrowed against his investment from the sale of his commission. “Please, my lady,” Alistair whispered, his desperation clear in his voice. “I need this position. I’ll do anything ...”
    “Anything?” Julia interrupted, her head tilting to one side. If I ask him now, he can’t say ’no’, she thought quickly.
    “Anything,” Alistair agreed with a nod. Christ, what have I agreed to? he wondered, his panic replaced with another when he realized she had already conjured the ‘anything’.
    Julia allowed a small smile. “Including becoming a gentleman?” she wondered, an eyebrow arching up with the question.
    Alistair blinked. Becoming a gentleman? He blinked again. But he was already ... “A gentleman?” he repeated, thinking perhaps he misunderstood her demand.
    “Yes. I wish to make you into a gentleman. And you must pass as one when you attend my parent’s ball at the end of this month,” she stated, her chin lifting with the last few words.
    Alistair blinked again. I have to become a gentleman? By the end of the month? “My lady, in what way must I ... become a gentleman?” he queried, curious as to her motive. What would she have him do that he hadn’t already done in his life as the son of an earl?
    The question seemed to catch Julia off-guard. “Well, you’ll have to learn how to bow, of course,” she began uncertainly.
    Alistair glanced around, and once he was sure no one was about, he executed the perfect bow.
    Julia continued as if she hadn’t just witnessed his perfect bow. “And how to dance,” she continued. “I’ll employ a dance master for you, of course,” she added, as if she expected him to deny his ability to learn to dance.
    But Alistair was about to claim he already knew how to dance when he realized that, as a groom, he would only be expected to know the country dances done longways. “Of course,” he agreed with a nod.
    “And we’ll have to work on your diction. You’ll need to be able to speak like a gentleman, and not sound like you’re from one of the northern counties,” Julia continued as if he hadn’t said a word. Or several of them. In a manner that was clearly not of one hailing from the northern counties.
    Alistair blinked. Where did she think he was from? Do I sound like I’m from Yorkshire? Or Northumberland? Or, worse, Scotland? He sometimes couldn’t understand a single word a Scotsman said, especially after a pint or two at the pub. “Of course not, my lady,” he agreed automatically.
    Suddenly cocking her head the other direction, Julia regarded him for a moment. “Just what county are you from?” she wondered suddenly.
    Swallowing, Alistair wondered how to respond. He decided truth was the best. It wasn’t as if he was going to start speaking like he was from Scotland when the chit had already heard him say more than a dozen words in his own Queen’s English. And hers. “Sussex, my lady,” he answered with a nod.
    Julia seemed to deflate and show relief all at the same time. “Oh,” she acknowledged, her head bobbing up and down. “Well, that should make it a bit easier then,” she said under her breath. When she didn’t offer another condition, Alistair dared to ask if that was all.
    “Is that all, my lady?” he ventured carefully. What else could she have him do? There wasn’t time to attend Cambridge or Oxfordshire for a quick degree in philosophy or history. Besides, he already had one of those.
    “Well, if there was time, I would send you to Cambridge,” she started to say