Free Lord Will & Her Grace by Sophia Nash

settle all the
demands for funds and approve the architectural plans for the bank.
His bank. An institution that would resurrect his family's name
once again in the highest circles of the beau monde.
    Today would be the culmination. He would
declare himself, finesse any ruffled feathers over his false
appearances, and celebrate their betrothal. And since he wasn't a
slow top, he would be damned if he didn't finagle a kiss or perhaps
something more into the bargain. Not that he would anticipate the
wedding night. He was a gentleman and far too much in command of
himself to do that, after all.
     

     
    The little port of Burnham-by-the-Sea was
deserted as all the men who earned their bread via the sea's bounty
had cast off in the glowing light of dawn. Sophie readjusted her
new full-length fishing coat and again checked to make sure that
not an inch of the new pantaloons showed. She had no desire to
shock the inhabitants of the village.
    But where was Mr. Seymour? The elderly parson
had promised so faithfully to go fishing with her today. She
wondered if her choice of clothes would overly distress him. Given
the amount of donations she had made to the church, she was hopeful
he would look the other way when she removed her coat when far from
shore.
    She turned at the sound of horse hooves on
hardened earth.
    Lord William dismounted and called a passing
boy to his aid. With the toss of a coin, the boy took possession of
the reins and led the horse away.
    Oh, what was he doing here? And she had been
so successful in her efforts to avoid him until now. She tried to
appear unruffled by his appearance but feared she was blushing.
    "Miss Somerset, I am at your service," he
said, bowing. "It seems Mr. Seymour has pressing duties in the
parish. I offered to escort you on your fishing expedition to
relieve some of the poor man's burden. I do hope that is all right
with you, ma'am?"
    "Why, yes," she said, attempting to compose
herself. "Yes, of course, my lord." Was there no excuse she could
invent on short notice? How was a day spent alone with him to be
borne? "But, really, I would not inconvenience you. I think I shall
wait for another day. And I now remember that Mr. Mornington and
Mari mentioned their interest in fishing as well."
    "Mornington, spend the day fishing? I don't
believe the man has ever set foot in a boat again after becoming
violently seasick on his grand tour."
    "Oh, I see."
    "Now then, do you have everything we will
need? Tackle, bait, refreshments?" His eyes held a glint of
amusement.
    She thought frantically. Before she could
reply, he had taken his decision.
    "Good. Then we're off." He leaned down to
reposition the small boat on the ramp. The next moment, he launched
the fishing vessel from the moss-covered slope into the sea. Sophie
hopped into it at the last moment, and he followed her, taking up
the oars to put some distance from the shore.
    "I thought this might be the perfect
opportunity, chérie ," he said, "for your promised lessons
on, let's see—Character, Distaste for dandies, and wasn't it also,
the Error of my ways?"
    She found he was looking directly at her when
she dared to raise her eyes. His eyes crinkled in the corners.
    "Why yes, that would be an excellent topic
for today, my lord."
    "Do you think you could find it in your heart
to call me 'William'? 'My lord' sounds so… so formal. We've become
great friends, haven't we?"
    "Perhaps, but I think I'd better not. I shall
try to avoid any use of your name at all, in future, as I don't
want to offend."
    He was rowing with expert dexterity.
Evidently, he had spent a good deal of time around boats. It was in
conflict with his usual dandyish existence. But now that she had
somewhat regained her wits she noticed he was dressed in much more
somber, practical clothing than usual.
    It was unmercifully hot. He stopped rowing
for a moment to peel off his bottle green coat.
    She felt awkward, watching him work the oars.
The great muscles in his tall frame