The Stag and the Baroness: The Shifter Season, #3

By Laura Greenwood

A widowed deer shifter discovers that the new Baron is more than she could ever have hoped for.

After a loveless marriage, Lady Lydia Ferrington has thrown herself into throwing events that are the talk of the shifter social calendar.

But when Jonathan returns from abroad to take his place as the new baron, Lydia finds herself unwilling to give up hers.

Despite knowing they shouldn't, the two of them soon find themselves constantly drawn together...

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The Stag and the Baroness is a paranormal Regency romance with deer shifters, a capable widow, a newly invested Baron, and a whole new way of life. It is part of the Shifter Season series and includes a sweet m/f romance.

If you love shifters combined with courtship, formal balls, witty courtships, and all the trappings of a Regency setting, you should start The Shifter Season series today! 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Drowlgon Press
• Release date: Sep 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201646431

Laura Greenwood

Laura is a USA Today Bestselling Author of paranormal romance, urban fantasy, and fantasy romance. When she's not writing, she drinks a lot of tea, tries to resist French macarons, and works towards a diploma in Egyptology. She lives in the UK, where most of her books are set. Laura specialises in quick reads, with healthy relationships and consent positive moments regardless of if she's writing light-hearted romance, mythology-heavy urban fantasy, or anything in between. You can find a full book list and more information on her website, or in The Paranormal Council Facebook Group. Happy Reading!

Book preview

One

Lydia

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I smile and say my goodbyes to each of the guests in turn, knowing that it's my duty as hostess, even if I'm exhausted and want nothing more than to retire to my bed chambers and rest.

It was a lovely evening, Lady Ferrington. Thank you for the invitation, the new Viscountess Renarton says, her eyes shining with contentment. We are only passing acquaintances, but even I can see how well marriage suits her.

Thank you for attending, I respond in kind. A ball is nothing without the guests.

The Viscountess chuckles. You are correct, as always.

I would not go that far, I respond. I look forward to your company at the upcoming soirée.

I look forward to it myself, she responds. As does the Viscount. I rather think he will enjoy an evening where he does not have to entertain me. She looks at the tall, dark-haired man next to her and smiles.

Entertaining you is the least of my chores, my dear, he says, an affectionate note in his voice that makes my heart ache.

Not because I wish the Viscount would look at me that way, but because no one else ever has. The late Baron was a tolerable man, even if he was strict, he never cared for me. I was a means of which to finance renovations to his property and make him look good to his friends, nothing more.

Some days, I wish my father had turned down his offer of marriage. On others, I am grateful he did not. My married days may have been devoid of love, but the freedom I have as a widow is something I never imagined possible.

I banish my thoughts and pay more attention to saying goodbye to my guests, trying to take note of who seems to be in good spirits and who does not.

Lady Ferrington, a gentleman in a tawny coat says to catch my attention.

Lord Angus, I respond. How lovely to see you this evening, I'm sorry we could not converse more.

It is of no concern, my lady, I know you had other matters to attend to. He glances around to make sure no one is paying any attention to us. I will send you the contract we discussed next week.

Thank you, Lord Angus, your help in this matter is much appreciated.

It is a pleasure as always, Lady Ferrington. He bows his head to me and disappears after the rest of my guests.

I let out a sigh of relief, glad to have found a reasonable man to help me secure the livestock I need in order to make proper use of the barony's farmland. Many men wouldn't do business with a woman, even a widow left in charge of her former husband's estate until his heir appears, but Lord Angus doesn't seem to have those sensibilities. I suppose he has nothing to gain from not working with me the way he would with anyone else.

I say goodbye to the last of my guests and gesture for the doormen to lock up the manor.

My lady, Mrs Smithson says.

I turn to the housekeeper and offer her a warm smile. Is everything all right?

There has been a letter, my lady. She offers it to me.

At this hour? It's nearly dawn, there shouldn't be any post for hours yet.

The lad who delivered it said that it was urgent, my lady. We did not feel it was right to keep it from you any longer than we had to.

Thank you. I will retire with it in my rooms. Would you ask the cook to send up a tray of tea?

Of course, my lady. She dips her head before disappearing down to where the kitchens are.

Servants are already starting to tidy the ballroom and adjoining retiring rooms, which means my presence is no longer needed.

I make my way up the stairs, only stopping when I reach the doors to my rooms. Every time I enter, I do it with the knowledge that they may not be my rooms any longer.

Would you like a bath, my lady? Edna asks as I enter my bed chamber.

No, thank you, I will do that when I wake, I tell my lady's maid. I set the letter down on my bureau and sit so she can remove my hair pins and dress my hair for sleep.

Was the ball everything you wished it to be? she asks as she works.

It was delightful. Did you enjoy it in the servant's hall?

I did, thank you, my lady. We never got to enjoy the food and music of the balls at my last household.

And I am sorry for it. While some of the servants are needed in order to make the night run smoothly, I firmly believe that those who are not should be able to enjoy the extravagances of the evening, even if they can't attend the dancing themselves.

We make small talk about the ball while she helps me change from my formal dress into a nightgown, and by the time we have, a tray of tea has appeared on the low table next to the large window. If I had to guess, I would say the cook had it ready before I asked for it. She's used to my evening rituals by this point.

Is there anything else I can help you with, my lady? Edna asks.

That'll be all, thank you.

She curtsies and leaves the room.

I pour myself some tea and stare out of the window, taking a moment to enjoy the peace outside it before I deal with the contents of the letter. I don't need to know what's inside it to know that it is something serious inside.

I turn it over in my hands, trying to ignore the concern building inside me about my parents and siblings. I believe Margaret is with child again, and that is a dangerous time for any woman.

Pondering the contents of the letter isn't going to put my mind at ease. The only way to do that is to open it.

With a loud sigh I slide my finger under the wax seal, cracking it open. I unfold the letter and stare at it for a few moments, the words within barely sinking in, and not just because the handwriting isn't familiar to me.

It takes five reads of the letter in order for the meaning of the words to start to sink in.

The new Baron is set to arrive in a few days, meaning my days as a Baroness are numbered. I'm not sure what he's been doing on the continent, but he's left me to my own devices for the past two years. Which is something that will change once he appears. And my life will change even more when he marries and has a Baroness of his own.

I set the letter to the side and focus on what it means for the immediate future rather than the long-term. I need to have the servants prepare the Baron's rooms for him, and ensure that they are ready for another permanent tenant of the manor. Without knowing any of the Baron's personal tastes, it will be hard for the cook to prepare a menu for the week, but I'm sure she will do her best, she's a highly capable woman.

I pick up my teacup and take a sip, the soothing warmth of the tea reassuring me that everything will be all right. Even if I must put my trust in a man I've never met.

Two

Lydia

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The urge to pace back and forth to dispel some of the nerves building within me is intense, but I