A Taste for Scandal by Erin Knightley

Raleigh. How can I help you?”
    When he turned, his clear blue eyes held something close to a challenge as a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Jane slowed, cautious, and decided to head behind the counter to maintain a bit of distance between them. Anyone who could send a shiver of awareness down her spine with little more than a look needed to be kept at a safe distance—particularly if his name was preceded by the word “Lord.”
    “Miss Bunting, thank you so much for seeing us again. I do hope we aren’t interrupting you.”
    “No, of course not.”
    “Good. Because I have a proposition for you, and I would very much like to hear what you have to say about it.”
    A proposition? A thousand possibilities ran through her mind, though not a single one made sense. How could it? Men like him didn’t make propositions to women like her . . . at least not ones that could be mentioned in front of a younger sister.
    Just as Jane was about to respond, the door opened and Mrs. Dobbins bustled in. Jane tamped down the flare of impatience at the interruption—could the woman possibly have had worse timing? She paused, surprise clear in her wide eyes as she took in the visitors. Jane only just managed to keep from shooing her out—no matter how much she liked the woman, Jane was dying to know what sort of proposition Lord Raleigh had up his sleeve.
    “Good afternoon,” the older woman said with a smile, looking back and forth between Jane and the siblings. Jane knew exactly what she must have been thinking: What were these two exquisitely dressed people doing in her little shop?
    “Good afternoon, Mrs. Dobbins. What can I get for you?” Jane smiled to defer any impatience that might have come through in her tone.
    “Oh, no,” she said, turning inquisitive, dark eyes toward Lord Raleigh. “They were here first. I can wait.”
    He dipped his head in acknowledgment and offered her a smile that somehow actually made the mother-to-be blush. “We are entirely too overwhelmed with the choices before us to decide just yet. I insist that you go ahead.”
    Thankfully, Mrs. Dobbins agreed, and Jane helped her in record time. Before she left, she cut a glance toward the patiently waiting pair and whispered, “If only he was on the menu.” She giggled and made her way to the door, leaving Jane slack-jawed behind her. In all the years they had known each other, Jane had never heard even a single word from the woman’s mouth that was anything short of proper. What was it with the earl and his effect on women?
    The very moment the door clicked closed, she turned back to the earl. “You were saying?”
    “Yes, I was saying.” From his smile, she could see that he was quite pleased with himself for having piqued her interest. “The thing is, Miss Bunting, you have me at an advantage, and I was hoping you might be willing to”—he paused, rolling his hand as if looking for the right word—“indulge me.”
    Indulge him? What on earth was that supposed to mean? She looked to Lady Beatrice, who merely raised an eyebrow at her brother. “What, exactly , would I be indulging, Lord Raleigh?”
    “I wish for you,” he said, leaning forward as if taking her into his confidence, “to teach me to bake.”
    For a moment, she said nothing, absolutely certain he would burst out in laughter at any moment, betraying his jest. But he just watched her, his gaze steady and expectant. He couldn’t possibly be asking in earnest. Perhaps she had heard him wrong.
    “I beg your pardon,” she said, looking back and forth between the siblings in absolute disbelief. Of all the possible scenarios for their presence in her shop, this was by far the most unexpected. “But you want me to do what?”
    “Teach me to bake.” His voice was casual, as if it were of no consequence. As if lords regularly requested lessons in trades.
    “Whatever for?” First the flowers, then the precious letters from her deceased mother, and now an earl