Free A Stolen Season by Tamara Gill

She looked at Richard over his lordship’s shoulder and noted his pleased grin. Well, she supposed he would be happy. Here she was, getting cozy with the lord with no effort on Richard’s part at all.
    “Did you end up buying any peculiars, Miss Baxter?”
    She frowned. “Ah, no, my lord. There was nothing that caught my fancy.”
    “Was there not?”
    Something in his lordship’s tone gave Sarah pause. As if he was trying to get at something else. Was he flirting with her? Or was he suspicious? “No, but there are plenty of other antique stores in London. I’m sure I will find something among them that will take my fancy.”
    “I should imagine so.” Lord Earnston pulled her into a quick turn. Sarah laughed and clasped his lordship tighter. “Are you still free to ride tomorrow morning, Miss Baxter?”
    “Yes,” she said out of breath. “I’m looking forward to it.”
    “That would then make two of us.”
    Sarah deliberately ignored the double entendre hanging between them. It was merely her twenty-first century mind thinking dirty. “I have informed my maid, so you’ll not need to scold me this time.”
    Lord Earnston grinned. “What a shame. I was hoping you’d buck convention and not bring one along.”
    Sarah refused to blink. “Liar.”
    “You know, Miss Baxter, you’re the second person this eve to label me thus.”
    “Really?” she said, curious. “Can you tell me why?”
    Lord Earnston swung her in to another tight turn.
    “Lord Mettleston believes — now prepare yourself to hear something quite shocking — I have formed a tendre for a lady here present tonight.”
    Sarah’s heart raced. She bit her lip and wondered what the social protocol was when a gentleman shared such a personal tidbit. She was pretty sure she should tell him off and storm away. Yet all Sarah could think was, did he mean her? And if so, what should she do with such a revelation? “Oh,” was all she replied.
    His lordship grinned. “Yes. I told him he was being absurd, of course, but then I have been known to twist my words.”
    Sarah looked about and wondered if everyone else were as hot as she. Dancing in his lordship’s arms, hearing his deep, rumbling voice was a challenge at the best of times, but when he aimed to make the woman in his arms melt like ice-cream on a hot summer’s day, it was nearly impossible to stay composed. “You lie then,” Sarah said, glad her voice came out strong and almost accusing.
    Lord Earnston laughed. “Never lie, just … evade.” He paused. “Are you not curious as to whom Lord Mettleston meant?”
    “It would be silly of me to ask as I’m sure, because you are a gentleman, you wouldn’t wish to cause me unease. You do realize women tend to look less than comely when flushed red to their roots. And you know how dedicated I am to finding a husband this season.” Sarah smiled at her own sarcasm. But at least his lordship was being hospitable, could well be on the way to counting her a friend, if such a thing were allowed in 1818.
    Eric laughed. “Very well, I’ll abide by your wish not to know, but you’re wrong about a woman’s flush. I believe there is nothing more beautiful than a delicate rosy hue on a woman’s cheeks especially after a pleasurable exertion.”
    Oh man he was hot!
    Sarah said a silent prayer of thanks when the waltz ended. Lord Earnston swept her to a stop. “My lord, there is something — ”
    “My dear, you must introduce me at once to the lady who has kept you this past half-hour. I command it.”
    Sarah turned and found herself face to face with a formidable looking older woman. Sarah dipped into a curtsy and then wished the ground would open up and swallow her. Why was it that whenever she was nervous, she forgot the damn etiquette rules? The curtsy was supposed to come after the introduction.
    “Forgive me. Miss Baxter, this is my mother, the Countess of Earnston.”
    Sarah dipped into her second curtsy. “I’m very pleased to meet