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becoming more frustrated by the moment. “It’s a narrow house, my lord, for all its grandeur.”
    â€œI already ruled that out, thank you.”
    â€œYou did? Oh, so that’s what you were muttering about. But you considered it, if only briefly. What turned you against the idea?”
    â€œWhy, Miss Foster, I have no idea. Unless I’m looking at her.”
    Dany was young, but women are born old as the world in some areas. “Your notoriety seems to have gone to your head, my lord, as you grossly overestimate your appeal.”
    â€œWonderful. Now, mere aeons too late, you’ve decided to take umbrage. Did it not occur to you that you, Miss Foster, are grossly underestimating your charms?”
    Now he’d done it, made her genuinely angry. And they’d been rather enjoying each other’s banter, she was certain of it. Being friendly, even chummy, as Dexter would say. “That isn’t funny. Nor is it flattering, if that’s what you were aiming for with that ridiculous statement. I’d considered us partners in this adven—this arrangement. I can be of help. I want to help. Mari is my sister, remember. I release you of your obligation. You may leave. Now. ”
    â€œDo you feel better now that you’ve climbed up on your high horse?” he asked, shaking his head as if looking down at his favorite hound, just to see that it had piddled on his boots. “And I’m not going anywhere. No, that’s not true. I am leaving now, but I’ll return at half past four, to take you for that drive in the park. Or did you forget that?”
    Rats. She had forgotten. He was going to lend his consequence to her entry into the Little Season, especially since Mari had taken to her bed, vowing not to leave it again for the Remainder of Her Life. Who’s the looby now, Daniella Foster?
    Sometimes it was wiser to bend, at least a little, in order to achieve one’s ends.
    â€œVery well, my lord, I accept your apology.”
    â€œI rather thought you would, even though I haven’t offered one. We may or may not have much more to speak about during our drive.”
    â€œReally?”
    He got to his feet. “Possibly. First, I’m going to consult the most unlikely physician anyone could imagine, and have him examine my brain. Until later, Miss Foster.”
    Then he bowed over her hand—she’d think about her reaction to that slight intimacy later—and left her where she sat, probably wise not to attempt standing anytime soon.

CHAPTER FIVE
    D ARBY T RAVERS FINISHED his examination of the two notes, an exercise that hadn’t taken more than a minute at the outside, and placed them back on his friend’s desk. “You aren’t really applying to me for my one-eyed opinion, are you? My sole contribution, I imagine, is only to look aghast and exclaim, ‘Good God, man, the handwriting is one and the same!’”
    â€œAs is the phrasing, yes, thank you,” Coop said, still leaning against that same desk, a glass of wine dangling from his fingertips. “The bastard seems to have begun a cottage industry of blackmailing. I wonder how many others there are out there at the moment, suffering the same dilemma.”
    â€œIf he’s going after straying husbands and wives, my best guest would number in the hundreds. But then there’s you, which makes a case for the man’s diversity of ambition, and his, shall we say, growth in said ambition. Taking the time to both pen and publish two entire chapbooks for a mere ten thousand pounds? You may be his prize victim, the pinnacle of his nefarious career, if that flatters you at all, and I begin to think you’re also a bird he will pluck more than once if you let him. I wonder how long he’s been working at his trade.”
    â€œYou’re thinking of gifting him with a few pointers?” Coop picked up the note to the countess. “Five hundred pounds. I