Free Good Earl Hunting by Suzanne Enoch

Chapter One
    “ I DON’T SEE how shooting a poor animal that’s been snatched out of its den, chased down by hounds, and cornered by an overwhelming number of enemies with superior weaponry is in any way sporting.” Theodora Meacham sat in the morning room of Beldath Hall and refused to join the half dozen other young ladies by the window.
    “Stop attempting to sound so superior, Theo,” her older sister commented from the cluster. “I only wish they would let us ride with them. I show quite well on horseback.”
    That, Annabel Meacham did. She showed well in everything, actually, Theo reflected, but today, at least, she was glad not to be her sister. Not when--
    “Oh, there he is!”
    The tittering at the window grew louder; they sounded like nothing so much as a flock of geese, Theodora decided, bending her head and determined to finish reading the page she’d begun several minutes ago. Generally she enjoyed Sir Walter Scott and his thinly-veiled criticisms of Society, but today it felt almost too...obvious, she supposed.
    Of course she knew who the he was – Geoffrey Kerick, the Earl of Vashton, had arrived last evening well after dinner. The rest of the females present had expressed worry that he hadn’t eaten and had decided that he must be doubly gallant to be willing to ride after foxes the very next morning after traveling most of the night. She was of the opinion that he’d arrived just when he did on purpose, so that he might make the most spectacular appearance, and that he’d likely stopped for dinner earlier at the Red Lion Inn just down the road and was nowhere near starvation.
    She wasn’t impressed. After dancing with him a grand total of twice during the entire London Season, she knew precisely what he was looking for in a female companion or a bride or whatever the girls claimed he must be seeking. Or at the least, she knew what he wasn’t looking for. Her. For one thing, she didn’t like the idea of grown men and large horses and large dogs chasing one poor, frightened fox who had no idea what the devil was afoot. For another, she refused to simper or claim ignorance about subjects with which she was quite familiar just so some man could step into the conversation and feel superior. Oh, she was a very poor simperer indeed, especially compared to some of the other ladies in the morning room.
    Annabel called her cynical, but she preferred to think of herself as a realist. How could the younger sister of the loveliest young lady in England be anything but practical about her own appearance, anyway? At the least she knew that Vashton hadn’t come to Beldath to look at her. No, her father had invited the earl to the festivities to meet a far better-suited female. Annabel Meacham. Her older sister.
    “If you disapprove of the hunt so strongly, Theo, I imagine you’ll be foregoing the picnic by the lake afterward,” Mary Hallsley commented, a giggle in her voice. “There’s to be a special prize presented to the man who takes the tail, after all.”
    Theodora sighed, closing her book and setting it aside. “As this is my father’s home, you know quite well that I can’t miss the picnic, Mary. But I certainly don’t have to sit here and listen to the lot of you planning your weddings, all with the same man. I’m going for a walk. Would anyone care to join me?”
    “No, thank you. If you want to be hot and red-faced when they return from the hunt, your own concern. Some of us care to look our best.” Rachel Henry did laugh, the others joining in.
    Halfway out the door, though, Annabel took her arm. “You don’t have to exile yourself, Theo,” she whispered, pulling her younger sister to a halt. “Simply because you and he didn’t deal well two months ago doesn’t mean you can’t be polite. He...he may very likely be a member of the family before long, after all.”
    Shaking her head, Theodora gave her brunette-haired sister a smile. “The pretty one,” most of their acquaintances