Sawyer stood in the parlor at Rosecrest Manor, wondering what all the fuss was about. He hung in the corner and watched as his parents fawned over Lady Penelope and her husband. The new couple seemed kind enough, but Sawyer simply thought there was no need for such commotion regarding their arrival.

This would be a summer just like all the summers that came before. They would drink. They would eat. They would likely travel to each end of the manicured Rosecrest grounds whilst playing various rounds of lawn bowling.

It was a simple, plain, boring house party.

Sawyer rolled his eyes and observed Simon try to relentlessly to catch the attention of a blonde-haired beauty. While Simon was, in fact, engaged in conversation with her, Lady Whitley's big blue eyes kept straying to her parents. She likely hoped that they would save her from Sawyer's poor twin brother.

Taking a drink of a pour that he'd stolen from Uncle Theo's scotch collection, Sawyer tried not to spit it out when a low voice whispered in his ear.

"It is hard to watch, isn't it?"

"Christ." Sawyer whipped around to see the other Ash sister, Lady Blair, not a pace from his right shoulder. "Could you perhaps refrain from sneaking up on a man like that?"

Lady Blair was every bit the opposite of her older sister. She had thick, dark hair that someone had attempted to twist into an elegant hairstyle, and it simply did not become her. The lady looked at Sawyer with narrowed, dark brown eyes, and her lips did not smile in a polite simper. They positively smirked.

"But what fun would there be in that, Viscount Payne?"

Sawyer flicked his gaze over her once more, observing her rather drab evening gown. It was an unfortunate olive color that did not flatter her in the least, and the boxy cut meant that Sawyer couldn't discern her figure at all.

"I am not the Viscount, my lady," he drawled eventually. "My brother was born five minutes prior to myself."

She tilted her head to the side. "Quite interesting, that."

Sawyer snorted and dared to take another sip of his scotch, hoping not to be startled as he was the last time. After letting the burn subside, he asked, "How so?" Sawyer had never taken much interest in anything regarding titles. His family was full of them, and yet actually having one had escaped him.

"Well, a person might say that your brother has all the luck, considering his timely arrival into this world not five minutes before you, blessing him with all the riches associated with the future inheritance of an earldom—"

"My father is an earl, but my grandfather is a marquess," Sawyer set about correcting her, although he was unsure why he bothered. "Simon is set to inherit more than an earldom."

Lady Blair merely shrugged. "See? Your brother should be quite lucky. But based on how he is faring with my sister...well, need I say more?" Her eyes trailed across the room to Simon and Lady Whitley.

Sawyer threw back the rest of his drink and waited for Lady Blair to look back in his direction. Then he said, "Flirting does not require luck, my lady. It requires skill." Sawyer lifted a brow.

Lady Blair lifted a brow back and leaned toward him. An earthy, flowery scent flooded Sawyer, mixing curiously with his slight intoxication.

"And I suppose you have that skill, Lord Pearce?" Lady Blair's dark red lips barely moved as the words slipped from her mouth in a husky whisper. Sawyer copied her, leaning in a bit more.

"I suppose I do, Lady Blair," he whispered back.

Her voice released in a little coo as she replied. "Is that so?"

Sawyer dropped his own tone as well. "It is."

In an abrupt change of character, Lady Blair chortled and rocked back on her heels. Sawyer gave his head a little shake, wondering what had just happened.

"Then you should help your brother," she said.

"What?" Sawyer had honestly forgotten they were talking about his brother at all.

"You should help your brother with my sister." Lady Blair pointed toward Simon and Lady Whitley with an exaggerated gesture. Sawyer saw Simon run a shaky hand through his hair, his nervousness evident. Perhaps it was a good thing that Lady Whitley was hardly paying him any attention at all. "It is time she gets her head out of her books and finds a husband," Lady Blair continued. "Your brother is clearly interested, and he comes from a good family."

Sawyer flashed her a tilted grin as he looked away from his brother again. "Why thank you, Lady Blair."

Lady Blair smacked him then. She literally hit Sawyer right on the arm. "I was not referring to you. Honestly."

Making a show of rubbing his arm in soothing motions, Sawyer said, "You wound me, my lady."

But Lady Blair's attention had already turned back toward her sister and Sawyer's brother.

So Sawyer sighed before saying, "I had already intended to help my brother."

"Oh?" Lady Blair replied. She did so without even looking back at Sawyer. It was damned annoying, honestly, and certainly not polite.

"Yes, of course. Who do you take me for?" Sawyer frowned. He looked down into his glass before remembering that he'd already drunk the whole of it.

Lady Blair ignored the question. Instead, she spun around to face Sawyer in a whirl of black hair. Half of it seemed to fall out of her pins at the motion, leaving Sawyer to wonder if there had been any point in attempting to secure her curls at all. "I should like to help you," she said, her dark eyes sparkling as she pinned them on Sawyer.

"What?"

Sawyer had gotten lost in their conversation again—or whatever it was that they were having. It was challenging to track.

"I should like to help you with you helping your brother woo my sister."

"Good lord," Sawyer muttered, staring at Lady Blair's mouth—where those many words had just tumbled out of. Then he watched as she spoke again.

"I do believe we shall be the perfect team, Lord Pearce."

It took a moment for the words to register in Sawyer's brain.

"I'm sorry, did you say team?"

Lady Blair's eyes shifted around them before she leaned in. This time Sawyer picked up the scent of lavender. "Are you quite drunk or simply addled?" she whispered. She was so close that her breath fanned on Sawyer's neck.

"Is there one that you would prefer?" Sawyer breathed, looking up into Lady Blair's dark gaze.

She blinked rapidly. "Dear me. Was that an attempt at flirtation, Lord Pearce?"

Sawyer grimaced and took a step back, fumbling a little as he attempted to recline against the rose-colored walls of the parlor. "No," he grumbled. Honestly, Sawyer wasn't sure what he'd been trying to accomplish with that remark.

Lady Blair appeared relieved. "Well, thank goodness for that." She gave a pert little tug on her silky, white gloves. "Let us talk further tomorrow regarding this matter, Lord Pearce." And with that, she turned away. Sawyer watched Lady Blair meander through the crowd, eventually landing next to her sister, who looked thoroughly pleased for the company.

After a few minutes of observing them, Sawyer decided he would retire. There was one event that he did enjoy at these ridiculous house parties, and that was the annual hunt tomorrow morning. It wasn't so much that Sawyer enjoyed the killing of animals—that wasn't what drew him to it.

It was more the thrill of the chase and the rush of the adrenaline that tempted him. And Sawyer did enjoy the camaraderie that occurred. The hunt was something that he always did with his father, as well as his brother, uncles, and cousins.

Simply put, it was a manly affair.

But as soon as Sawyer arrived on the lawn the next morning, he realized that wouldn't be the case this year.

"What the devil?" he cursed upon seeing the face of Lady Blair Ash hovering near the head of one of his favorite mares.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up at seeing Sawyer. "You're here. How excellent."

"Lady Blair," Sawyer voiced lowly, striding across the grasses toward her. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought we could discuss the matter of our siblings."

"But this is a hunt." Sawyer's voice was bland as he gestured to the other men around him. He briefly connected eyes with his father, who gave him a ridiculous smirk before turning back toward Mr. Rockwell. The man then complained loudly about something or another to do with his horse. Sawyer wasn't listening close enough to tell exactly what. "We are not simply going for a ride," Sawyer added.

"Yes, I am aware." Lady Blair took a step around the mare's grey speckled snout, and Sawyer took in her attire for the first time.

He took a step back.

"Lady Blair, you are wearing pants."

She cocked her head to the side, her lips quirking as she did. "Why, of course. How else am I to hunt?"

Sawyer was honestly lost for words. He recalled last evening when he hadn't thought twice about Lady Blair's appearance except to decide that the lady had no idea how to dress properly. Sawyer still thought she didn't know how to dress herself, but he did have a whole slew of thoughts regarding her appearance now.

Because every curve of Lady Blair's figure was on display in tight little trousers that in turn threatened to tighten Sawyer's own trousers. He forced himself to look back at her face, which he could see much better today due to the morning light. That and her hair had been pulled neatly back from her face. A long braid rested over her shoulder. Her eyes were bright, her smile cunning and rather pretty.

She seemed unbothered with Saywer's lack of response as he grappled with something to say. But eventually, Lady Blair shrugged her shoulders, gripped the reins on her horse, and then turned away.

God, he wished that she hadn't. Sawyer tried not to groan as his eyes dropped to Lady Blair's shapely bottom.

"Did you say something?" she said over her shoulder.

Had he actually groaned aloud? God, help him. Clearing his throat, Sawyer replied tightly. "No."

"Then come along, Lord Pearce!" she called and continued toward the rest of the men. "We simply have so much to discuss."

Sawyer suddenly realized that it was going to be a very long summer. Although perhaps it wasn't going to be as dull as he'd thought.

🤍