A Scandalous Proposal by Kasey Michaels

the recipient of that particular look from members of her family time and again in her growing-up years (and at least twice today).
    â€œTicktock, ticktock. Yes, I understand, even as I wonder if you do. Go on.”
    â€œI’ll ignore that. Here are the rules. One—there can be no clandestine surveillance nests set up in your bedchamber. Not by me, not by you, not by any combination that includes you, me or any number of other persons, none of which would be considered a chaperone by any stretch of the imagination.”
    â€œNot even the Archbishop of Canterbury?” Dany couldn’t resist. He was so handsome in his frustration. If he were her brother, he could box her ears or some such thing. But he wasn’t, and he was forced by Society to treat her as a young lady of quality. Pity she didn’t know how to behave like a young lady of quality.
    Or perhaps she did; she’d certainly had years of lessons behind her. She simply didn’t see the point, when misbehaving was so much more fun.
    â€œWe’ll leave that question for the moment,” he said tersely. “Two. I did not ask for this assignment, I did not seek it out, I don’t want it—but you and your crackbrained scheming has put me in this position. That said, and in words with the least syllables, I am in sole charge of what we do to aid the countess.”
    All right. Now he was ruffling her feathers. She clasped her hands and pressed them to her bosom, and then fluttered her eyelashes for good measure as she goaded: “My hero. I do fear I might swoon.”
    At last, he smiled. If he was a sobersides, at least she seemed to have found a way through to his appreciation of the ridiculous. “Please don’t let me stop you. I’m certain there’s some water in that vase of wilting posies over there. Dumping its contents on your paper-stuffed head would count as my only pleasure since I woke up this morning.”
    Hmm. Perhaps he wasn’t as amused as she’d thought, but was only delighting in contemplating a bit of revenge on her for all she’d put him through. Which was probably a lot, all things considered.
    â€œClearly entirely on the wrong side of the bed.” Dany knew to retreat when she’d gone too far—she’d certainly traveled to that point often enough. “Very well, I’m sorry. No more interrupting. You’re doing Mari and me a huge favor and I’ve given you nothing but grief in return. But,” she added, because with Dany there was always a but somewhere, “you really needn’t be so mean. I’m only trying to help.”
    The baron stood up, walked a few paces away from the bench and then turned to look at her. “I know, and that’s what makes what I have to say even more difficult. You think you’re helpful. Let me correct myself. You’re positive you’d be helpful. Tell me, how much the worse would it be for me if I didn’t include you in my plans?”
    She got to her feet, applauding softly. “I knew you’d be brilliant, my lord. Never before has anyone asked that question.”
    â€œAlthough they certainly did get an answer?” he asked her, another smile actually beginning to evidence itself at the corners of his mouth.
    That was a rough patch gotten over neatly.
    â€œIndeed, yes, they did. I’m afraid I’m not a thing like Mari, or my mother, or most women for that matter. I cannot fathom dutifully tending to my embroidery when something important is afoot. It’s against my nature. Sitting and waiting, perhaps sending up prayers in some chapel such as this one, with nothing to say about the outcome, would drive me mad.”
    â€œI’m after a petty blackmailer, Miss Foster, not marching off to the Crusades with your colors tied to my sleeve.”
    Oh, but if it were and if you did, I’d follow you without an instant’s hesitation . With that thought came a blush