Page 138 of Nightshade

“It is rude to watch a woman work without her knowledge, My Lord.”

“It is equally rude to look so utterly appetizing while performing such work. I request that you pause to accompany me on a short journey to the foot of the mountain.”

Cheeks burning, she offered a coy smile over her shoulder, but didn’t set aside the wash, as requested. “I beg your forgiveness, but I shall have to decline, as I have already accumulated far too many punishments.”

“Punishments for what, may I ask?” The demanding tone of his voice, always laced with a small bit of ire, exposed the protective nature he seemed intent on disguising.

“Venturing into the woods alone. And wandering said woods until darkfall.”

“And what was it that kept you so late?”

“Sleep. I must have … fallen at some point. Hit my head on the gnarled root of a tree.” She raised a wet hand to her crown to massage it. “Seems the ache has mostly subsided, but my humiliation persists.”

“No physical punishment, then?”

“No, they were surprisingly merciful in that regard.”

Yet, in spite of her words, he continued to assess her, his eyes scanning over her as if he needed to see for himself. “I can assure you, you will suffer no repercussions for accompanying me.” A bold proclamation that brought a smile to her face.

“And it is your stealth and conniving nature which assures such a thing.”

“It is the bishop who assures.”

Lustina whorled on her heel. She frowned on finding no humor on the baron’s face. “The bishop?”

“I met with him earlier.”

“Regarding Drystan?”

“No. It seems the good bishop asks a favor of me. A very … committed favor.” The way he emphasized the word told Lustina it was a favor the baron was not happy to oblige. “You were my condition.”

Turning back toward her sopping dress, Lustina shook her head. “You told him of us?”

“I did not have to. It seems he already knew a fair amount about the two of us.”

“Drystan.”

“I suspect.”

“No, something does not sit well in all of this.”

“You are wise to think so.”

“You do not trust the bishop, then.”

“No. He has asked me to join their war, to expand their purview. I would personally rather die than partake in such a thing. But he has offered to release you to me.”

Perhaps she had not quite heard him right, and confused, she glanced back at him. “Release me. For what?”

“In his eyes, diversion. Complacency. An exchange of property.”

“Property.” Anger flared inside of her, the inherited temper of her mother rising to the surface. “Is that what I am? No more than chattel to buy and sell off at will?”

“To the bishop? Yes. As for me? I would ask you to be my wife.”

The words struck her silly, and Lustina let out an ungracious snort. “A nobleman cannot marry a commoner, My Lord.”

“I think I have expressed my stance on the rules of courtship.”