Page 79 of Scandalous

Sarah bristled. “You have no idea of what my father did or did not teach me.”

Again he laughed. “No, you are correct. I know nothing about missionaries and their teachings. I do, however, know something of the daughters of missionaries. Or at least one. I know you have spent a great deal of time thinking about me and what I do when I am not within your sight. I think you would very much like to know where I have been and who I have been with, eh?”

It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to tread on his elegantly shod feet.

“You don’t know the first thing about me, Captain Bouchard. You’re too self-absorbed to know anyone but yourself.”

“Shh, you are so vehement. People are beginning to stare, perhaps believing we are lovers, having a quarrel, eh?” He chuckled at the venomous look she gave him. “Come, let us not fight. Since the subject of my activities is not a topic for polite conversation, why don’t you tell me what you have been doing?”

Sarah pursed her lips and stared at his chin, forcing her eyes away from his full lower lip.

“Very well, it appears you do want to hear what I have been doing, in great detail.” He opened his mouth.

“Oh, shut up. I would prefer talking about anything else to . . . to . . . that.” His shoulder shook beneath her hand. “Unlike some people, I have been visiting museums, galleries, booksellers, and other culturally significant places.”

“Mm hmm, and what else?”

“I have been learning how to dance, ride a horse, and engage in proper dinner conversation.”

“I noticed the first and last this evening. I would like an opportunity to observe the second.”

“Why? So you may mock my efforts?”

“Do you fear my mocking?”

“Not in the least. Show up any morning you like and mock away. I warn you, however, we ride unfashionably early.”

“We? You and Mies?” His light teasing tone fled, and his hand clenched on her side.

“Kindly stop mauling me, Captain. Yes, me, Mies, and my groom.” Was that jealousy she heard in his voice or just the competitive instinct that any mention of the Dutchman seemed to evoke?

“Ah, you have the protection of a groom. Very good. Who knows what the good captain would get up to otherwise. Perhaps he would be overcome by the strength of his emotions and do something rash.”

“Must you be odious every minute of the day?”

“Not without a great deal of effort. You dance much better when you are not thinking about your feet.”

Sarah ignored his condescending observation, and they danced for a few moments in silence.

“You look very beautiful tonight,” he said in her ear, his voice husky, his scent more intoxicating than champagne. “This color suits you, the style also.” His hungry look took in the low neckline, evoking both a desire to fling herself into his arms and a compulsion to box his ears.

She ignored both urges. “Tell me, Captain, where are you staying?”

“I am at a small hotel called Mivart’s. Quite unexceptionable, I assure you. Perhaps you would like to come and have dinner? You could inspect my apartments and make sure they are respectable.”

“I’m afraid that is impossible.”

He grinned at her cool rejection, and Sarah realized the baron had been correct. Martín was much more comfortable with rejection than he’d ever been with any act of kindness. She sighed. How tiresome that she must treat him poorly in order to gain his attention.

“Why the deep sigh, mademoiselle?”

Sarah stared hard into his unusual eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of what went on behind them. But they were as well guarded as the crown jewels.

She changed the subject. “Baron Ramsay said you had a property in the country, Captain.”

“Has Ramsay taken the position of town crier?” He didn’t sound amused.

“Why, is the fact that you own property some sort of secret? I understand it’s quite common in this country.”