A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing by Elf Ahearn Page A

I’ll agree, but do you think it’s right for a girl to be a lad … ”
    “Look, Mr. Lank,” Hugh said, interrupting him. “I appreciate your concern for my choice of trainers, but I’ve got to attend to my dinner guests. If you’ll excuse me.”
    “’Course, my lord. Have a good evening.” Lank backed out the door, bowing obsequiously until the oak slab swung on its hinges and the bolt clicked shut in his face.
    • • •
    As Hugh reentered the dining room, Ellie peered over the frames of Peggity’s glasses. He didn’t look at her. Panic buzzed in her brain.
    Lady Davenport lifted her glass. “Do tell us what all that was about,” she said. “Miss Ellie is very fond of horses, I’m sure she’d be interested.”
    Hugh scraped his chair out from under the table and glared at his mother, his jaw set with annoyance. Ellie’s heart jammed in her throat. She stared at the mounds of food on her plate, waiting for the blow to fall.
    “You adore horses, don’t you, Miss Ellie?” his mother prompted again. Ellie nodded, too unnerved to speak.
    “Just a little business about that stallion I bought from your father,” Hugh said, sitting stiffly, then stuffing his mouth with applesauce so his mother couldn’t continue the conversation.
    “Oh, I’m mad for horses!” cried Rosemarie. “We have several very nice ones at home.”
    Hugh looked at her. “What do you like best about them, Miss Philapot?”
    “Their noses. I’m mad for their noses.”
    “I see,” said Hugh.
    Poultney Bigalow spit food into his napkin. “Their noses, you say? Is it the length or the width of their noses you find most attractive?”
    “I dare say both,” Algie charged in.
    Rosemarie giggled. “What funny gentlemen.”
    “Gentlemen?” Flavian said.
    Seeing the conversation rapidly disintegrating, Lady Davenport cut it short. “Well, I hope you young ladies haven’t taken to riding astride. The farm girls are quite brazen about it.”
    Ellie’s terror of Lank tattling on her turned to anger at Lady Davenport’s words. “Sometimes I envy the freedom of farm girls,” she said a little too brusquely.
    “Do you?” Hugh said, sounding surprised.
    “Well, astride is safer.”
    “But it’s completely immodest,” exclaimed Lady Davenport, her breasts trembling with indignation. “A woman’s chances for safe childbirth are ruined.”
    “From what I’ve seen, horseback riding hasn’t affected farm girl breeding habits in the least,” said Ellie. “I envy them the freedom to trade propriety for practicality.”
    “That is the jurisdiction of the lower classes,” Lady Davenport declared. “It is our duty to show them a more delicate manner of living.”
    “We show them at our peril,” Ellie said.
    “But we do it all the same,” countered Lady Davenport, giving her a look meant to end the conversation.
    “But we could take a cue from the lower classes,” Ellie continued. Hugh shifted in his seat to get a better view. He’d probably never witnessed someone take on his mother, Ellie realized. “If great ladies, such as yourself, Lady Davenport, decided to overlook riding astride for the sake of the safety of your own sex, fewer bones of the titled would be broken.”
    Lady Davenport radiated forbearance. “Captain Hart,” she said, “would you like to see Miss Ellie with her legs parted over the back of a steed?”
    Chase leaned on his elbow and suggestively stroked his lower lip. “I’d be unable to tear my eyes away.”
    Ellie’s cheeks caught fire.
    “Mr. Swift?” Lady Davenport asked Algie.
    “A horse, a horse. My kingdom for a horse!” Algie cried. He smiled and batted his eyelashes at Ellie. Her face grew hotter.
    “And you, Lord Bigalow?”
    Poultney’s brows furrowed like two kissing caterpillars. “I’m sure seeing Miss Ellie astride a horse would be ecstasy,” he answered.
    Ellie felt faint with embarrassment.
    “You didn’t ask me,” Hugh interrupted. “I see little reason for a