Free The Seduction of Sara by Karen Hawkins Page B

admirers. Nick rode the paths until he finally saw her, her diminutive form atop a feisty bay gelding.
    Nick pulled up his horse and watched. If the fascinating Sara had looked appealing wearing a dull gown of watered silk, she was devastating in a form-fitting sapphire blue riding habit, its severelines accenting her curves. A high collar framed her face; her cheeks were warm with color, her blue eyes sparkling. A long white feather decorated her tall hat and brushed her shoulder temptingly.
    She was magnificent.
    Laughing, she turned to reply to something her companion said, the movement highlighting her delightful profile for a moment against the shrubbery. Nick’s body responded with a rapidity that caused him to curse the tight cut of his breeches.
    He smiled grimly at the reaction. For the first time since he could remember, all things were turning in his favor. The repairs of the Hall were moving quickly; Pratt had so wisely invested his funds that he would easily be able to afford the highest quality of life; and best of all, his headaches had diminished greatly. The fresh country air left him sharper, more alive than he’d ever felt.
    And soon he would have a mistress. Nick turned his horse toward Lady Carrington’s party. To her left rode the tall, auburn-haired woman she’d been with at the Jeffries ball. Miss Thraxton, if he remembered correctly, and she seemed to be an unusual female in her own right. On Sara’s right rode three gentlemen; one was a groom and one was a footman. Her aunt was obviously taking no chances that her willful charge would slip away. His gaze flickered to the third man, and Nick’s smile faded.
    Tall, dark, and impeccably dressed, Viscount Hewlette appeared the perfect escort for any lady of fashion. His face and manner were always charming, his smile respectful, his manner ingratiating.Still, Nick thought he could discern just the tiniest hint of boredom in Lady Carrington’s countenance. Without further preamble, Nick pulled his horse into their path and waited.
    Sara saw the earl an instant before anyone else. After listening to Viscount Hewlette expound for the last half hour on the magnificence of a new hunter he’d bought, the earl appeared like a burst of sunlight in a world of murky, mundane trivialities. Viscount Hewlette was proving to be an enthusiastic suitor, a fact Sara was beginning to regret. Since she and Anna had arranged a “chance” meeting with the viscount three days ago, he had hardly left her side. Sara was more than weary of his constant expostulating on his triumphs in the hunting field and elsewhere.
    She stole a glance at the earl from beneath her lashes, and her heart stumbled a little as she pulled her horse to a halt. Taller than the viscount, broad-shouldered and impressively fit, he emanated power and wealth. And he rode a magnificent black gelding that made her poor mount look like a slug.
    Some inner part of her leapt awake at the sight of his smile as he approached, and she found herself smiling in return. It had immediate effect—the earl perused her from head to foot, his gaze lingering on her mouth. A heavy warmth trickled a path across her breasts and settled in her stomach.
    â€œLord Bridgeton. How pleasant to see you again,” she said demurely.
    He lifted his hat and bowed, a glint in his eyes. “Lady Carrington. It has been several days since the Jeffries ball, has it not?”
    â€œAlmost a week, in fact,” she said, then bit her tongue at her impetuousness. His knowing glance told her that he remembered the ball all too well. Still, the fact that he had remembered her name was vastly encouraging. Sara sent an appraising glance at him, noting how the sunlight glinted off his hair and deepened it to the tawny gold of a lion’s mane, and limned the hard line of his jaw.
    Though she’d thought her memory had exaggerated his perfections, she now found it had been lamentably remiss.