Free Something Sinful by Suzanne Enoch

ability to remain awake.”
    Sarala chuckled. “I shall attempt to do better.” Perhaps laughing wasn’t strictly professional, but he was wittier than she’d expected from their first meeting. Three days ago—heavens, had it been only three days?—she’d thought him arrogant, thick-headed, and boastful. He’d shown at least the middle of those to be untrue. No, he was a far worthier opponent—both over the silks and now apparently over her person—than she’d expected, and she’d best never forget that.
    “I doubt that being interesting will be much of a challenge for you.”
    “Why, thank you, my lord.”
    “Might I offer you a tour of London? Or at least of the part surrounding Hyde Park?”
    And thus the black knight moved his first chess piece of the day, a flanking maneuver undoubtedly meant to distract her from his frontal assault on the silks. “You don’t expect me to climb into your barouche with you,” she said, scowling.
    “Your maid will join us, naturally.” He gestured at the seat opposite his. “And I do have several very nice lap blankets, and a pan of coals beneath that seat.”
    It was a blatantly unfair use of his knowledge of her warm, Indian past, she decided. He’d probably consulted an almanac and realized the weather would be chill before he’d suggested the time and location for their meeting today.
    “Well?” he prompted. “I’d be just as happy to remain here and you there. I only thought you’d enjoy seeing some of the local sights. If I’m—”
    “Open the door, if you please,” she interrupted. As long as she knew what his rook was up to, she wouldn’t be in danger of being mated. Sarala coughed to cover her abrupt amusement at the analogy.
    He opened the door as she requested, and even stood to offer a hand to Jenny and her. At least he hadn’t gloated about his first victory. And she had several moves he wouldn’t see coming.

    On the path just north of Rotten Row another barouche, this one with the Deverill crest on the door panel, came to a stop. “Who is she, I wonder?” Eleanor, Lady Deverill, asked as she looked toward her older brother’s carriage.
    “I saw him dancing with her last night,” her companion and sister-in-law, Lady Caroline Griffin, answered. “Zachary even asked Shay a question about her, and he pretended disinterest. She’s the one just here from India. Lady Sarah or something. There’s some confusion about what her name actually is, I believe.”
    Eleanor kept her gaze on her brother, though her heart jumped. “He pretended disinterest? You’re certain it wasn’t actual disinterest?”
    “It could have been, I suppose. You know him much better than I do.”
    Eleanor turned back to face her companion and newfound friend. “You don’t need to pretend ignorance to make me feel better. I know Zach’s told you all about the Griffin clan. And I also know you’re rather observant.”
    “Well, Zachary’s assessments aren’t always very helpful. The first time I asked him about Shay’s character he said, and I quote, ‘Shay? He’s got bloody numbers running through his head all day and all night, and he likes it that way. He’s mad, in other words.’” Her cheeks reddened. “And excuse my language.”
    Eleanor smiled. “No need. I grew up with the lot of them, if you’ll remember.” She watched as Shay’s carriage turned west along the Rotten Row riding path. “Considering that he literally said there was nothing special about Lady Sarah last night, and that I saw him dancing with her a night or two before, and that today he’s taking her riding in Melbourne’s barouche, and that he hates riding in barouches, and that he broke an engagement to take Peep to the museum today to be here at all, I would say his disinterest was most definitely feigned.”
    “And so what do we do?”
    Nell’s smile deepened into a heartfelt grin. “What we do, dear Caroline,” she answered, “is continue to observe. I know it’s