An Improper Proposal Read Online Free

Daring Park were no exception. Payton watched with raised eyebrows as her brothers elbowed and jostled one another in their haste to exit the room. It wasn’t until they were gone that Drake, his own eyebrows similarly raised,  turned to Georgiana and said, as mildly as if nothing unusual at all had occurred since he’d entered the room, “Mrs. Dixon,  the ladies are gathering before supper in the drawing room, I believe.”
    “Oh.” Georgiana fanned herself frantically, not having quite recovered from Hudson’s suggestion that Connor Drake kiss his posterior. “Thank you, Captain. That’s quite—It’s very kind of you to stop by, personally, to let us know—”
    “It was my pleasure, Mrs. Dixon. I’m delighted to have you all here at Daring Park. I trust you find your rooms comfortable?”
    “Oh,” Georgiana said. “Very. The house is charming, simply charming.”
    Georgiana seemed quite anxious to get out from beneath the captain’s penetrating gaze. Payton could understand the inclination. She’d been the recipient of that cool, calculating gaze more times than she liked to remember.
    “Come along, Payton,” Georgiana continued nervously. “We had better get downstairs, before your brothers get themselves into even more trouble …”
    “I’ll be along,” Payton said, “in a minute.”
    Payton realized that she’d suddenly been presented with a golden opportunity. She hoped she’d injected her voice with enough syrupy sweetness that her sister-in-law wouldn’t guess she hadn’t the slightest intention of following anytime soon.
    She succeeded. Georgiana disappeared into the hallway, too upset by her new family’s bad manners to pay much attention to what that family’s youngest member was up to. Which was just as well, since she would hardly have approved of what Payton did next, which was to seize the baronet by the arm as he attempted to stand aside, allowing her to pass through the doorway first, and hiss, “Thanks for bloody nothing!”
    Drake looked considerably surprised at being thus addressed. He raised his tawny eyebrows again and said, with a little indignation, “I beg your pardon?”
    “How am I ever going to convince Ross to give me my own command if you’re forever interfering?” Payton demanded hotly.
    “Interfering?” Comprehension finally dawned over the captain’s face. “Oh, I see. You mean by my keeping your brother from hurling you over his shoulder, I was interfering?” The corners of his lips curled into a very definite grin. “I’ll have to beg your forgiveness, then, Payton. I rather thought I was saving you from a crushing blow to the head. Terribly ignoble of me, I realize now.”
    Payton refused to be swayed by either the captain’s charming manner or devastating good looks. This was excessively difficult just at that moment, since the sun slanting into the room had brought out the highlights in his golden hair. It almost made it look as if there were a halo behind Captain Drake’s head, as if he were a saint—or the archangel Gabriel, perhaps—in a stained-glass window. Thankfully, Captain Drake had not been on the lice-infested clipper, and so his fine hair had been spared from Ross’s sheers. It hung as long as his shirt collar. Sometimes he wore it tied back in a black ribbon, a style which Payton approved of highly.
    Good Lord! What was she doing, standing there, admiring his hair?
    Placing her hands on either side of her narrow waist, Payton glared up at him. “It isn’t funny,” she informed him. “This is my future we’re talking about. You know Ross has this ridiculous idea of marrying me off, instead of doing the sensible thing, and letting me have the
Constant
.”
    “Right,” Drake said. He appeared to be attempting to school his features into a suitably serious expression, but was having some trouble. “The
Constant
. The newest and fastest ship in the Dixon fleet. And you think your brother should give you command of