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writing?”
    “Nothing much. Just descriptions really. I find that my painting and my writing often go hand in hand.”
    “Really? Which do you prefer? Painting or writing?”
    Lily turned her gaze to the horizon. “I’m not sure I could say. I suppose I can never decide, which is why I do both at the same time.”
    Daniel regarded her with amusement. “I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone like you.”
    The porcelain skin on her neck pinked. “You don’t really know me.”
    Good Lord, she’s beautiful . “I’d like to.”
    The pink on her nape turned to crimson. “You would, would you? I suppose I should be flattered. However, I’m disinclined to associate myself with a gentleman—and I use the term loosely—of your reputation.”
    An insult. Not many ladies would dare. She was a delight! Daniel reached to touch her. Her physical charms were overwhelming to any man, but what enticed him most was her loose-tongued sharpness. Clearly she cared little for propriety. He dropped his arm back to his side and ignored her comment.
    “My lady, please, I must ask you again for your forgiveness for my behavior last evening.”
    “Don’t give it a thought, Your Grace. I’m sure I’m not the first innocent maiden who found herself entrapped in your snare.”
    “I wish you would stop joking.”
    “I’m not joking.”
    “Oh.” Daniel stepped backward. Oh, she was audacious, this one. And so beautiful and intriguing. “Then if you would allow me to make it up to you in some way…”
    Lily put down her journal and stood, turning to face him. She wiped her hands on the apron covering her skirt. Daniel’s skin heated as her cognac eyes pierced his. She opened her mouth, but no words emerged.
    “Yes?” he urged.
    She bit her lip. “Your Grace, there is something that you could do for me.”
    “Anything, my lady.”
    “I would like to see your art collection.” She spoke quickly, her voice softening with each catch of her breath. “It’s rumored to be one of the finest in England, and my brother told me that it could only be viewed by private invitation. I have a passion for art, Your Grace, and Vermeer is one of my favorites. You do have a Vermeer, do you not?”
    He grinned. “I do.”
    “I know this must seem very forward, but I’ve been excited about this trip to Laurel Ridge for quite some time. To actually see a Vermeer! The thought of being close to something that he touched. I suppose this must sound crazy to you, but, well, to tell you the truth, I had planned to find it myself…”
    “So you thought you’d do a little investigating, did you?” He smiled, enjoying her nervousness.
    “No, of course not.” She blushed. The rosiness crept down her neck to the swells of her plump bosom. “Well, yes, actually.”
    “Is that by any chance what you were doing last night, when I…caught you?”
    Lily looked to the ground. “Yes, I suppose it was. I stole onto the terrace and was planning to go around to the front entrance and sneak through the house until I found it. Everyone was at the ball, so I figured it was a perfect time to have a look.”
    “You would have found some beautiful pieces, but I’m afraid the Vermeer would have eluded you.”
    She looked up. “Why is that?”
    “Because I keep it in a very special place. A place you wouldn’t have dared to look.”
    “Where?”
    “My bedchamber.” He couldn’t help himself. He gave her his best rakish grin.
    “Oh.” Her dark eyes radiated disappointment. “I suppose I shall never see it then.”
    “Nonsense. I would be happy to show it to you.” Oh, I would indeed.
    “I can’t possibly go to your bedchamber. It would be highly improper.” She bit her lip again.
    That soft plump lower lip, so satiny against his own last night… Damn . His cock twitched. “My lady, you don’t strike me as a woman who would let convention keep you from something you want.”
    “I don’t know why you feel it necessary to insult me, Your