How to Wed a Baron by Kasey Michaels

about being bartered away by the king, being forced to leave her home. But once her aunt had explained that a marriage of mutual convenience was all she could look forward to in any event, thanks to her birth and station—and had pointed across the king’s drawing room to where Count Josef Eberharter stood picking at his yellowed teeth with a penknife and declared the man to be Alina’s only alternative—the idea of traveling to England, to the birthplace of her mother, had begun to seem a reasonable alternative.
    Her mother had told so many stories about her homeland, and always with such a wistful look in her eyes. Now she, her mother’s daughter, would see all the glorious sights herself. First London, of course, as everyone with any sense wished to visit this great metropolis. But then she would travel to Kent, and to her mother’s childhood home. Wouldn’t they all be surprised and delighted to welcome the daughter of their beloved and lost Anne Louise?
    She cocked her head to one side and contemplated the now-completed sketch. Had she capturedthe correct degree of astonishment in his lordship’s entirely too-wise eyes as he looked cross-eyed at the fat fish tail sticking out of his wide-open mouth?
    â€œOh, my lady,” Tatiana said, leaning across the mattress to goggle at the sketch. “That’s even better than the last one. Danica, come see.”
    â€œHumph,” the older woman snorted, staying where she was, busying herself with laying out Alina’s freshly pressed traveling outfit for the morning, a lovely thing of midnight-blue and military gold frogging, and a shako hat that was made to tilt forward above the lady’s right eye just so. “Horns and a tail? I see nothing so amusing in poking fun at one’s betrothed. You should only be thanking the Virgin for his handsome face and body. He could have been sixty, and fat and filthy into the bargain.”
    â€œI’d rather he was eighty, and with one foot teetering over the grave, too crippled with gout and dissipated by drink to worry about such things as his new wife,” Alina said truthfully, for she saw nothing wrong with wishful thinking. “What am I supposed to do with a man no older than Luka? What will he want from me?”
    Tatiana giggled, putting her pudgy hands to her mouth. “Should we tell her, Danica?”
    â€œThat is the job of the husband, and not for us to say. It is proper for a lady of breeding not to know—”
    â€œAbout breeding?” Tatiana quipped, and then covered her smile with her hand.
    â€œYou have never been amusing, Tatiana Klammer,” the dresser said, turning her back to the woman, who promptly stuck her tongue out at her.
    Alina sighed. It had been thus ever since they’d begun their journey, the two women always jabbing at each other, the dresser believing her position to be higher than that of mere paid companion, the companion believing the dresser was altogether too full of herself. She had begun to wish Danica had not accompanied them to England, for the woman was stiff, humorless and full of rules.
    Plus, she clearly didn’t like her new mistress, something Alina couldn’t understand, because everyone liked her. Well, perhaps not Aunt Mimi, definitely not Aunt Mimi. But everyone else.
    She closed the sketchbook and put it to one side. “That is not what I meant, Danica,” she said testily. “I don’t know if he will want my company and conversation, or if he will ignore me for the most part, as I hope, and allow me to go my own way. I already know he will kiss me and give me babies. My mama explained that to me years ago. It’s the only way to get babies. I asked her, and she told me. I am…resigned to that.”
    As her mother had been dead these past three years, it could be wondered just how specific the lady had been with her explanations.
    The way Danica rolled her eyes as she turned about