The Lord Pretender by Sawyer North

Author:Sawyer North
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency; Regency romance; historical romance; romantic comedy; Men’s social clubs; Lords; Earls; Body Swap; Body Switch; Gender swap; Amara; vengeance; Revenge; Enemies to Lovers; Fish out of water; London Society; ton; The Marriage Mart; Red Lion Square; Secrets; Scandal; Governess; Guardian; Fringes of Society; Boxing
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 2022-05-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Emma spent Saturday and Sunday practicing the fine art of avoidance. She avoided the staff as best she could, limiting interactions to as few words as possible. She resisted the urge to sneak to Red Lion Square to face Simon. Her ongoing bafflement over the emotional walk in the park made that resistance easier. She more or less hid from Dodie and remained taciturn at supper and curt at bedtime. She did not venture out, other than to the courtyard late in the evenings to gather fresh air. Another week of interactions with Simon, in the guise of tutoring sessions, lay before her, and then a meeting with the reclusive scientist, Armistead. And after…who knew? She worried how Simon was faring, though. He had fewer places to hide at Number Thirty-Seven. Regardless, Emma’s strategy proved effective as Sunday came and went without incident or discovery.

Then the wheels fell off spectacularly.

Emma rose Monday morning with the sun as was her custom, broke her fast early, and found a book to read in the library. At nine o’clock, she sent the Blackburn coach to fetch Simon at Red Lion Square and asked Mrs. Seville to begin rousing Dodie from bed. She had not finished the first page when Hinton appeared in the doorway.

“My lord.”

He wore a familiar expression—restrained terror. Emma sighed and snapped the book shut. “Has the countess come calling?”

Relief crossed his features. Nobody wanted to be the bearer of bad news. “Yes. Shall I show her in?”

“Why not? I haven’t had a good tussle yet today.”

Emma stood when the countess flowed into the library and bore down on her. Instead of mauling Emma, Simon’s mother seized her hands and rose on tiptoes to peck Emma’s cheek.

“My glorious son. You look well. Then again, you always do, given that you inherited my looks and not your father’s.”

Emma cocked an eyebrow at the woman’s self-assured superiority. Two could play that game. She adjusted her cravat and settled languidly back in her chair. “Perhaps you might explain the purpose of your visit?”

The countess eyed him coolly. “May I sit?”

“As you wish.”

The dragon perched on the edge of the library’s lone settee, her spine bolt straight and purple plumes grasping forward over her head. “You seem unusually blunt this morning, so allow me to reciprocate. I have planned a dress ball and I have issued invitations to every diamond of the first water to be had this Season, including Lady Cecilia.”

“Wonderful. I hope you all have a lovely evening.”

The eyes of the countess narrowed nearly imperceptibly, given away by the fine lines that appeared on either side. “Don’t be obtuse, Simon.”

“My apologies. I was trying for subtle disregard.”

The countess leaned toward Emma, her eyes flashing. Emma expected a tirade. Instead, the woman produced a warm smile that impressed her. She could usually recognize a forced or false smile, but this one looked almost genuine, no doubt the product of a lifetime of practice in the art of getting one’s way.

“My son,” she said. “I can see that you are in a disagreeable mood, so let me be clear.

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