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man.
    "Tom, tell Simms to inform Lord Ransford and his friends that I am in the stable. Tell him not to inform Ransford that I know he is here. When you have delivered the message return to me, posthaste." Season smiled to herself, awed by her own daring.
    She watched Tom rush away to do her bidding, feeling a prickle of guilt. She intended to use the poor unsuspecting stable boy in her plan to be rid of Ransford. Tom's father was the innkeeper in the village, and for the last six months Tom had been helping out at the Chatsworth stables. Season wasn't sure of his age. Though he was tall and muscular, she judged him to be no more than sixteen.
    When Tom returned and told her he had delivered her message to Simms, the butler, Season almost changed her mind. Tom's blue eyes were sparkling so innocently she couldn't seem to bring herself to use him so shamelessly, and she was in the process of leaving the stables, when Lord Ransford's voice reached her ears.
    "Wait until you see my lady love. She is scarcely out of the schoolroom. She has lived in the country all her life and hasn't acquired the wicked ways so many London maidens have," Ransford bragged to his contemporaries.
    "I have heard it said that she is a real beauty and will bring with her a large dowry. You are indeed a fortunate man if the stories one hears about the Lady Season are true," one of the men speculated.
    "You are damned lucky, Ransford. Would that I were the one to take such a young innocent to the marriage bed." The lewd remark came from the third man.
    Season felt her face burn with indignation and embarrassment at hearing herself discussed in such a crude way. In that moment, the young girl knew she would have to go through with her plan. She could never marry a man who allowed his friends to make sport of her innocence. Glancing at Tom, she read the pity in his bright eyes, and setting her jaw stubbornly, Season mentally prepared herself to act a part.
    "Oh, she's innocent all right, I would never give my proud name to some flighty, promiscuous miss," Ransford declared.
    As the stable door was pushed open, Season sprung into action. She propelled herself against a startled Tom, knocking him off balance, and sending them both tumbling into a pile of fresh hay.
    "Forgive me, Tom," she whispered. "I am desperate-- please help me!"
    Poor Tom was just getting over the shock of the lady of the manor landing atop him when her sweet lips covered his. Raising her head, Season's green eyes held a beseeching glint in their misty depths.
    "Please, Tom, kiss me," she pleaded.
    Tom didn't stop to consider. He knew there would b« hell to pay over this day's incident, but he couldn't resist her plea. His arms slid about her slender waist and he rolled her beneath him, seeking her lips. He knew if it were not for the audience that would soon descend upon them, he would have felt that he had diet and gone to heaven at the taste of the beautiful Lad} Season's honeyed lips. He would have been willing to wager that nowhere in all England was there so fair a maiden. She was as far above him as the sun was from the earth.
    However, since everyone on Chats worth knew of the lady's trouble—being betrothed to the ancient earl- Tom realized immediately that she was playing a game and trying to free herself of the Earl of Ransford. At that moment, however, the stable boy would have died for her had she asked it of him.
    "Here, what's this?" Lord Ransford's enraged voice boomed out.
    Season braced herself for whatever was to come. She pretended to be shocked as she pushed Tom away and sat up, pulling a piece of hay from her tumbled curls.
    "My lord, I… had no notion you were coming. I did not expect to see you." She was surprised at how guilty her voice sounded. She hadn't known she could be such a convincing actress.
    Lord Ransford's face was red with anger and indignation. "You sly baggage," he choked. "I will never give my name to a harlot such as you!" He couldn't look his