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practicality. "He speaks French."
    "Not like you do." In contrast, her brother's voice was tranquil, serene, unconcerned with practicality.
    "Flattery won't work, sweet brother, so don't bother; Henry's French is more than adequate for the work. And I feel stifled in Paris. You know how the sheer size of the city unnerves me."
    "The process won't take more than two or three weeks," Trey gently noted, intent on having his way, well aware that a woman capable of holding her own on a hunting trip for grizzly bear wasn't easily unnerved.
    "Be realistic. We're talking French bureaucracy."
    "All right," he conceded. "Four or five weeks."
    "
If
I'm lucky and I make record time on the crossing."
    "You're Solange's godmother. Consider it your duty."
    "Since when have any of us been dutiful?"
    Trey's grin crinkled his eyes half-shut, curtailing their vivid humor. "As a fucking personal favor then," he cheerfully said, "so Empress is happy."
    "That's not fair."
    "I probably wasn't trying to be fair. I probably just want you to go because no one is as clever and capable as you and Solange is my baby."
    Daisy paused to gather the tumult of her emotions into a reasonable acceptance. In all practicality, she'd known from the start she had to go, but at least some evasive tactics were called for in an attempt to avoid Parisian society, which was what she actually disliked about Paris. "I suppose I can stay in that small pension near Notre Dame," she yielded, thinking it sufficiently removed from "society" to make her feel comfortable. She liked the potty old concierge, the medieval low-ceilinged rooms, the spectacular view of the Seine.
    " Adelaide already asked for you; she's close to Notre Dame too."
    "You told her I was coming?" Daisy glowered a little.
    "I told her you might come," Trey lied.
    Avoiding Adelaide 's kindness was impossible now. The Princess de Chantel, lifelong friend to Empress, considered it her duty to entertain Empress's family. "You're going to owe me, baby brother." Although the man lounging, across from her was the complete antithesis of baby-like: dark as sin; spectacular in size and build; masculine virility incarnate.
    "Name it," he simply said.
    Trey's love for his wife Empress was unconditional; he was quite willing to move heaven and earth for her if need be. And at base Daisy admired the intensity of his feelings.
    "I'll think of something suitably pricey to compensate me for a month of my time… in Paris." The last two words were expelled with soft aversion.
    "Perfect." He didn't ask for further clarification, amenable to any of her demands. Trey swung his feet down from the desktop, his task accomplished. "Could you see Empress this afternoon?" He turned on the full extent of his engaging charm.
    . Daisy sighed, visions of Adelaide's guest list already upsetting her digestion. "After my ride," she reluctantly agreed.
    Trey stood up, his smile beneficent, ignoring her reluctance as brothers do. "Great."
    ----
     
     
     
     
     
     
    "You have to be back by half-past four."
    Daisy scowled at the leathery-faced, diminutive groom holding her paint mare. A light breeze tossed wisps of dark hair about her face as if to playfully erase her displeasure.
    "You told me to remind you." Unintimidated by her frown, the wiry man ran a soothing hand down the gleaming brushed coat of the brown and white animal.
    Since she had issued such orders when she'd come home to change from her courtroom clothes, Daisy smiled ruefully. "By half-past four then," she said with a small sigh and stepping into the groom's clasped hands, swung up onto her mount. "Although I might be late if—"
    "Better not be." Abrupt and admonishing, looking up at her with one cocked brow, Reggie gave warning. A member of their household since she was a child, he knew everything going on and had already been warned by Trey to see that Daisy kept her appointment with Empress.
    "Are you my warden?" Her voice held a teasing mockery although her silky brows