Page 15 of Persuasions of an Earl's Daughter

“Ah.” He dropped down and she smothered a smile. It was pleasing to see she could get the upper hand on occasion.

Before he changed his mind about accompanying her or realized she had no need to relieve herself just yet, she hastened through the side door that she hoped would take her out into the courtyard. If she was going to question this boy, she did not need August breathing down her neck and distracting her with things like how he smelled far too fresh for a man who had been sitting in the saddle for half a day or how his arrogant smile did strange things to her stomach.

“You there.” She spotted the boy as soon as she shoved open the door and stepped down the two steps into the courtyard.

Either he didn’t hear her or didn’t wish to speak to her. He didn’t even glance her way as he paced briskly into one of the stables. Lilly wrinkled her nose as the earthy scent of a stable that needed clearing out soon imbued the air as she neared. She stepped into the gloomy entrance and looked left and right, spying only horses and no boy.

“Boy,” she called, regretting she had not at least asked the other groom for a name. “I just need to—”

The world turned dark, and fabric covered her face. She screamed. The sound emerged muffled, smothered by the press of what had to be a hand across her mouth. She flailed her arms blindly. With fists, fingernails, boots, she struck out.

Panic swamped her, making her breathing sharp and ragged and painful in her lungs as she fought the thick fabric about her face. An arm lashed about her waist, squeezing her ribs, and making even the tiniest inhale difficult.

This was not good, she thought, as her head swam, and her energy waned. Not good at all.

∞∞∞

August tapped the table rhythmically with his fingers until he noticed a woman throwing an irritated look his way. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been scolded for fidgeting, but he grasped the tankard instead and satisfied his need for action by taking a long gulp of the slowly warming beer. He wouldn’t have minded another, however, he had the inkling he needed to stay as sober as possible in the company of Lilly, even if just so he could counter her arguments.

The door she had exited opened and closed as a serving girl stepped through, a tray laden with so many tankards balancing on one hand he couldn’t fathom how not a single drop of ale was spilled as she swept through the room. He huffed out a breath and forced his gaze to the window. She’d been gone mere minutes. Women had skirts and petticoats to deal with. She was allowed to take her time for goodness’ sake.

Except something was wrong.

An itching sensation settled into his gut, and he conjured their conversation into his mind. The words were a little vague now as he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the delicate gold chain around her neck and the tiny floral shaped diamond earrings in her ears that kept catching in the light and highlighting the delicate shape of her face and neck.

August scowled. He wasn’t even trying to deny how attractive Lilly was, but it was her rare fine looks and simple jewelry that snared his attention. He’d been around many a beautiful woman smothered in jewels and glimmering in gold and had never fought to keep a grasp of the conversation. It was too important that he didn’t. He had a reputation to maintain, after all.

Lilly was more of a distraction than she should be.

And she still hadn’t returned.

That was it. He shoved back the chair and stood. What was the worst that could happen? She’d already accused him of being a horse thief—some sort of accusation of being overly protective would hardly wound him.

Unfortunately, for some reason, he did feel overprotective. He’d seen the woman handle herself better than any man on a horse so why he thought she needed him to keep potential danger at bay, he couldn’t fathom. His gut wouldn’t listen to reason though and there was only so long he was willing to sit around like this.

He strode to the door, shoulders rigid. Let her fling words at him for the hundredth time that day. He’d heard worse.

Much worse.

He smirked to himself. He hadn’t stolen her horse, but she had no idea how close to the mark she had come with her talk of him being a criminal.

He paused in the next room, eyeing the stairs that led up to the lodgings and the corridor from which the smell of baked pastries and the bustle of cooking emerged. The maid with the tray returned and ducked past him.

“Excuse me.”

She stilled, empty tray mid-air and took a long, leisurely perusal of him, her cheeks pinkening as she did so.

“Aye, sir. Can I be of service?”

“Have you seen a young woman? Dark-haired and slim and slightly, well, muddy.”

“No, sir. Sorry. But we’re busy and I ‘aven’t had much time to see who’s ‘ere.” Her lips curved. “I have time later, though.”

August ignored the subtle invitation. “Would you be so kind as to check the upper rooms? She may have gone upstairs for privacy.”

The girl frowned. “They’re all locked, sir, and no one has requested a key.” The serving girl lifted her chin. “I would know. The gaffer put me in charge of the lodgings for tonight while George is sick.”

He cursed under his breath. He should have known she was telling falsehoods when she failed to continue their argument. If he hadn’t been thinking about how delicate her mouth was and wondering whether it tasted of porter or something else.

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