Page 29 of Persuasions of an Earl's Daughter

It didn’t stop him imagining them, though.

God, anyone would think he was entirely incapable of controlling himself or his thoughts. Those who read the scandal sheets might not be surprised he’d spent the past two miles thinking sordid thoughts about what he could have done with Lilly had he not offended and insulted her with his desire but it damned well shocked him. He’d always managed to keep such feelings at bay, no matter how much the temptation bore through him.

Previously, though, the temptation never lasted this long. It had been fleeting and not enough to make him want to break the promises he’d made to himself.

“There’s an inn at the next village,” he told her, glancing at her from over his shoulder. “I stayed in Oakfield many years ago.”

“You travel this road often?”

“Not often,” he said tightly. In fact, the last time he’d travelled it, his father had been dying. He’d been in no rush to make his way up north to get to that man’s bedside.

“Your estate is in Derbyshire, is it not?”

“Yes,” was the only answer he offered.

He never went there. He didn’t see the point. He had a London townhouse and a generous cottage by the coast in Dorset. The house in the Peak District remained closed and would stay that way for the foreseeable future. Why would he want to live in a draughty old building that housed memories as cold and as grim as the stretch of the moorland around it?

It struck him as unusual that Lilly might not probe further but they lapsed into silence as August directed the horse over the brow of the hill that he recalled led down to the village. Not long until his torture was over. Someone would be willing to give up a cart for some coin, surely? Then they could make easy progress to Grantham, he could help her find Icarus, persuade her to part with the animal, and this would all be over.

And he’d cease being such a depraved bastard, endlessly deliberating about Lilly in ways he had no business thinking.

Perhaps he should have let her go alone. Perhaps he should have given up on this whole mess and let her plough on recklessly. But he cared for the horse too. Maybe not enough to cry over the matter, though the thought of the animal being mistreated at all left him decidedly uncomfortable. Besides, it was not just a business plan he and his uncle had, but a plot for revenge, and if Icarus was harmed at all, he’d have no chance of fulfilling his uncle’s dream.

Oh yes and add the fact Lilly would most likely wind up in trouble again, and August couldn’t fathom how he could sit around waiting for news of the horse.

“The inn is just...” He brought the horse to a stop and eyed the building ahead.

The only sign of the fact the building used to be a coaching inn was the metal pole hanging empty from the whitewashed walls and the arch constructed into the building to let carriages through.

“Uh, August, that doesn’t look very welcoming.”

It didn’t. Ivy crawled up the side of the building, masking several windows and the window frames peeled with rot. He guided his horse closer and dismounted then offered a hand to Lilly. She took it and he shouldn’t have felt anything at the trusting gesture.

He did feel something, though. Even as she barely glanced at his hand and peeled her bare fingers from his. The woman who was so independent that she would venture off alone to chase down a horse had needed his aid, even if only briefly, and taken it. It made August wish she needed him more.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and marched over to the building. Where these nonsensical thoughts were coming from, he didn’t know. The last thing he wanted was a woman dependent on him. His life, his reputation, was fine as it was. Nothing needed to change.

Hands cupped about his face, he peered in through a grimy window to spy only gloom and a few scattered chairs.

“It’s closed?” Lilly asked.

He turned and exhaled slowly. “It’s closed.”

“Blast.”

That was one way of putting it.

She plucked at her grimy skirt. “I should have taken up Mrs. Lambert’s offer of a dress.”

“I doubt anything she could offer would have fit.”

She nodded. “And we couldn’t wait any longer. These horse thieves have already got days on us.” She ran a finger along the neckline of her gown and August shot his gaze to a very interesting tree behind her.

“I was hoping for a wash though. I still smell like the river.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” He studied the tree until she ceased toying with her gown and drawing his attention to the place he’d just reasoned he should ignore.

A lady strolled down the street, a bucket in hand, and August waved and strode over. “Is the inn closed?”

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