Page 31 of Persuasions of an Earl's Daughter

August rapped the door knocker and took a step back.

The more time she spent with August, the more curious she became. Whether it was the old jacket or something else, she could not say, but what if there was more to him than the scandal sheets said?

What if she was being an utter fool considering such a thing?

“Ah!” A woman not much older than Lilly flung open the door. Flour covered the front of her apron and dusted round cheeks that still shone pink underneath the powder. “We have guests!” Her accented voice explained why the woman had called them the Swedes. She turned and called to someone inside. “Astrid, we have guests!”

“Well—” August started.

The fair-haired woman stepped out of the door, grabbed Lilly’s hand and hauled her into the front room. “Come, come!”

Lilly sent August a helpless look and allowed herself to be dragged fully into the house.

∞∞∞

The woman, Klara, hustled them into a bedroom scented with fresh flowers and laid with pristine bedding in hues of pale green. Sunshine dripped into the room, adding to the sensation of a room reaching out to the country garden and merging into one.

August shouldn’t have been surprised that two young ladies might have attractive, feminine lodgings but he did wonder why they did not have more guests given the comfort of the room. He might not care much for flowers or lots of pillows on a bed, but it was a darned sight nicer than the coaching inn had been in its time.

“This is lovely,” Lilly breathed.

Every part of August seemed to freeze solid the moment Lilly peered over her shoulder. From his breath to his heartbeat to his feet. She held him arrested simply by twisting slightly and being caught in the waning daylight.

“We’re so glad you—”

“Like it,” Astrid finished for Klara.

August blinked a few times and Lilly ran a finger over the petals of a pink rose. He clenched his jaw. Nothing was frozen now. No, in fact, everything rushed through him, pulsing hard and fast and making his cock twitch. It didn’t matter that her hair was wild, or her gown was stained and crumpled. She was beautiful—breathtakingly so. He’d been aware that there was something about her before, something in those big dark eyes and that petite mouth. Now he knew what it was.

She kept it well hidden under her brash manners and bold tongue, but he understood now. Lilly Musgrave was a great beauty, and any man would be damned lucky to have her.

And, fool that he was, in that single moment, he wanted to have her. All to himself.

“We should pour you a bath,” both the ladies said.

Lilly sighed. “That would be wonderful.”

“And you shall fit in one of our gowns.” Astrid looked to Klara. “Perhaps the blue?”

Klara shook her head. “No, no, the pink.”

“Oh yes, the pink.”

“That’s very generous of you but—” Klara put a finger on Lilly’s lips and August smothered a laugh at her befuddled expression.

“You are our guests, no? That means we take care of you.” She turned her attention to August. “Now you...” She peered him up and down as though she were a seamstress eyeing him up for new garments. “A hearty meal, I think. You are in luck. We are havingkroppkakortonight.”

“Kroppkakor?”

The last time August had eatenkroppkakor, his father had just died, and he’d taken to roaming about Europe. The thought of a good meal made his stomach growl but even if he hadn’t been hungry, he would have welcomed the distraction from Lilly and the way she kept stroking that damned rose petal.

“Come, come,” Klara said. “I shall see to the husband.”

“And I shall see to the wife,” Astrid agreed.

August didn’t need the encouragement Klara offered with two palms to his back as she directed him downstairs and into the parlor room. The low beams forced him to duck intermittently but he was able to stand upright in a room surprisingly well-proportioned for a cottage.

The floral, feminine theme continued with paintings of flowers and beautiful scenery hung on the uneven, whitewashed walls. An elegant ebony dining table gleamed proudly at the center of the room. August couldn’t claim to be an expert on furniture but he’d never seen something like this piece in any modest lodging house he’d stayed in before. It would be more suited to a grand house than a simple cottage in a village no one knew about.

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