The Emperor's New Clothes by Victoria Alexander

dangerous. But she was far short of the mark on something else.
    The Englishman wasn’t the only resident of Dead End she’d have to avoid.
    Â 
    Sedge studied Tye and the countess through the crowd of dancers surrounding them. The countess—Ophelia—laughed lightly and gazed up at Tye with an expression of delight. Sedge had seen that look before.
    He and Tye had always been attracted to the same women, and in spite of his friend’s promise, Sedge knew full well Tye would leap into the battlefield of seduction without hesitation given the right enticement. And Ophelia was definitely the right enticement.
    Sedge watched the couple, and a slow grin grew on his face. There was no bloody way he’d allow success to come too quickly to Tye. No, his old companion would have to work for this victory. Ultimately, though, he’d let Tye win the lovely Ophelia. It would serve him right. Teach him a lesson. Pay him back for all the times Sedge believed himself to be in love only to have the female in question end up in Tye’s bed. Sedge conveniently ignored the equal number of incidents in which he came out the victor in the battle for feminine hearts.
    Sedge chuckled to himself and sipped his champagne thoughtfully. The coming days would be interesting indeed. He looked forward with a sense of wicked anticipation to the contest to win the favors of the fair Ophelia. Even though he already planned on losing.
    The couple glided by and he wondered idly when, or even if, Tye would realize the husband of an English countess wasn’t a count.
    It was an earl.

Chapter Three
    â€œâ€¦and…” Ophelia threw herself backwards on the bed and stared at the ceiling. “They’re planning a fox hunt.”
    â€œA fox hunt?” Jenny’s brows drew together in concern. “You don’t know anything about fox hunts.”
    Ophelia tossed her a rueful glance. “That, my dear sister, is precisely the problem.”
    â€œDidn’t Shakespeare write any plays about fox hunts?” Jenny asked hopefully.
    â€œNot that I can recall.” Ophelia sighed and pulled herself to her feet. She stepped to a large wardrobe in the huge room allotted her and flung open the doors. Jenny had unpacked all the countess’s clothes, and Ophelia rifled through the rich fabrics and high-quality workmanship. “Did you find a riding habit in all this?”
    â€œI think so.” Jenny crossed the room, studied the hanging garments and selected one. “Here.” She thrustthe wine-colored outfit at her sister. “But I’m not sure it will do you any good.”
    â€œOh?” Ophelia examined the outfit carefully. Like the gown she’d worn tonight, it would take very little to adapt the clothing to her own figure. Especially for two girls raised with the constant demands of altering ever-changing costumes. “Why not?” Ophelia asked.
    Jenny plunked down in an overstuffed chair and smirked. “Because you can’t ride.”
    â€œI realize that,” Ophelia said vaguely, still studying the habit. “I don’t intend to try.”
    Jenny narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “And just how do you plan on avoiding it? I mean, it’s pretty hard to join in a fox hunt if you’re not on a horse.”
    Ophelia raised her gaze to her sister’s. “I know that too. But I can’t refuse to take part in this ridiculous excuse for a sport since the only reason they’re holding it in the first place is because of my visit.”
    â€œBecause of the countess’s visit, you mean,” Jenny said pointedly.
    â€œYes, yes, the countess.” Ophelia waved off Jenny’s words with an impatient gesture. “I think a real countess would insist on a sidesaddle for a fox hunt. And since I’d bet there isn’t a sidesaddle within a hundred miles”—she grinned triumphantly—“I’ll be perfectly safe and firmly on