He raised his brows at the unmistakable challenge shining in her eyes. “You must be joking.”

“I’m not. In fact, I’d be happy to lend you my copy.”

“Why on earth would I want to read a ladies’ guide?”

She offered him a smile that appeared just a bit too sweet. “Why, so that you could offer an informed, intelligent opinion when next you discussed the work. And besides, you might actually learn something.”

Good God, the woman was daft. Perhaps the victim of too much wine. He took a discreet sniff, but smelled only alluring flowers. “What on earth could I possibly learn from a ladies’ guide?”

“What women like, for one thing. And do not like. And why Lord Nordnick’s wooing attempts directed at Lady Ophelia are bound for failure. Just to name a few.”

Andrew’s jaw tightened. He knew what women liked… didn’t he? He couldn’t recall hearing any complaints in the past. But his inner voice was warning him that maybe he didn’t know quite as much about what Lady Catherine liked as he’d thought. Actually, maybe he didn’t know Lady Catherine as well as he’d thought-a notion that simultaneously unsettled and intrigued him. God knows she’d revealed an unexpected side of herself this evening. He recalled Philip’s warning about her newfound headstrong, blunt behavior. He’d put no stock in Philip’s comment at the time, but it appeared his friend was correct. And it further appeared that the blame for this change rested on the Ladies’ Guide’s shoulders.

Damn you, Charles Brightmore. You and your foolish book have made courting the woman I want-an already Herculean task-even more difficult. I’ll relish exposing you and putting an end to your writing career.