A Proper Scandal by Charis Michaels

to justify Lady Elisabeth to bloody Dunhip. “She’s the daughter of an earl,” he said. “Lovely girl—a woman really. ‘On the shelf,’ some might say, but her maturity suits me. Everything about her suits me. In any event, you may remove the task of wife-hunting from the heap.”
    The secretary nodded with faux pleasantness, staring at his knees.
    â€œIt was ambitious, I think, to pin the whole thing on you.”
    â€œAs you say,” said Dunhip carefully, “but would you have me look into the girl’s family or her father’s holdings? That is, before you—”
    â€œProtecting me from mercenaries, are you? Bloody good of you, Cecil. I’m touched. But you needn’t worry. She comes from an established family and is preoccupied with charity work. Doubtful she’s stalked me for my money. If she intends to fleece me, it is for her charitable cause. To that, I will happily submit. Philanthropy is good for business.”
    â€œVery good, my lord.” Dunhip sighed sorrowfully.
    â€œOh, but this reminds me, leave the paperwork for the charity prize on my desk. She intends to apply and may call today to collect it.”
    â€œShe will marry you and apply for the prize?”
    â€œThat is the hope, Dunhip, and thank you for your confidence.”
    The secretary had the decency to look chastened. “As you say, my lord.”
    A heavy pause.
    Dunhip cleared his throat. “What, might I inquire, is the nature of your betrothed’s charitable cause?”
    â€œWe’re not betrothed yet; I only met her last night.”
    This, Rainsleigh could admit, sounded a trifle reckless and precipitous when he said it out loud, but if Dunhip had been there, he would have seen. He would have known , as Rainsleigh did.
    â€œI don’t know about her charity,” the viscount said. “Something to do with lost girls. The poor among us. Innocent children with no hope or some such.”
    Dunhip made a face. “My vision for the application was a very detailed description of the charity, along with specific initiatives for current and future work. We would not want to grant the money to a fly-by-night or an unproven group, my lord. If it pleases you, I can explain to her.”
    Rainsleigh picked up a file and flipped it open, studying the charcoal rendering of a dry dock. “I alone will be furnishing the paperwork to her, in particular, Cecil.”
    â€œQuite so. Of course. But, my lord, if I might be so bold, I’ve conceived the application such that we may sift the wheat from the ch—”
    â€œI don’t care how you conceived it, Cecil.” He tossed the sketch aside and leaned back in his chair. “The application is immaterial. She’s here for paperwork, but my motive is to see her again, learn more about her, ask her permission to call.”
    â€œOh, but certainly, any woman in England would be honored to be called upon by you, my lord.”
    Rainsleigh laughed. “ ‘Certainty’ is one of the few things that money won’t buy. I cannot say what she might or might not be honored to do. All I know is that I want her.” The words surprised him—out before he realized what he was going to say. He rubbed a hand over his neck and pictured Lady Elisabeth’s face in his mind. It was a true statement. He did want her. Very much.
    â€œIf only everyone were as easy to impress as you, Dunhip,” Rainsleigh said. “I don’t intend to wheedle her for an audience, if that’s what you think. It’s merely . . . ” He rubbed his finger across his lips. He wasn’t entirely sure, he acknowledged, what he would ask her or why. He could hardly go in with his sudden designs on her future. All he knew was that he wanted to see her again.
    â€œI’m sure you won’t be surprised that I wish to do things properly,” Rainsleigh finished. “If I intend to call on