Page 11 of The Pleasure in Persuasion

Lily snorted. “I would have a better chance at being besieged by Spanish pirates,” she said dryly. “But, yes, even if such an unlikely event should occur, I would probably refuse him.”

“Probably? Then there is a chance you would accept.”

Lily smiled at her friend’s triumphant tone. “A very small one. Miniscule, even.”

Penelope harrumphed but said nothing more on the subject.

Lily often wished she had her friend’s optimism, but if she were ever to agree to marry, her suitor must prove himself a constant and faithful man of honor, and Stephen’s betrayal had made it difficult to believe she would ever meet a man like that.

Even if she did—even if a faithful, constant, unmarried gentleman of honor should somehow find his way to Little Bilberry, he would then have to meet her, fall in love with her, and agree to spend the rest of his days running the inn with her.

Not even an eternal optimist would like those odds.

Which was precisely why she’d abandoned such dreams. Mostly.

“Do you think you will ever marry again?” Lily asked suddenly, and immediately regretted the words, fearing she might have upset her friend.

But Penelope didn’t seem upset. She considered the question in silence as she bounced Jasper on her knee and then shrugged. “Perhaps. Someday. If someone wonderful comes along. He would have to be kind like William—gentle, patient, with a warm smile and intelligent eyes. And, of course, he would have to like children.” She glanced at Lily with a sheepish smile. “What do you suppose the chances are of my meeting a man like that here in Little Bilberry?”

“I’m not even certain a man like that exists,” Lily said mildly. “But if he does, I know he will find you wherever you might be.”

Penelope grinned, clearly pleased with the answer, and then the two fell silent as Annie the housemaid arrived bearing a tray with tea and cakes.

Lily was not an optimist—not anymore, at least—but she’d meant what she said. If anyone deserved to be happy, to have everything she ever wanted, it was Penelope. They had only known each other for two years, but Lily had never had a better friend. Penelope truly was the best of women, and she had suffered a great deal when her husband died. She deserved to find happiness again with a kind and decent man.

And perhaps there is one for you out there, as well, a voice whispered through her mind, though she hastily shoved it away. She supposed if a wonderful man came along and swept her off her feet, she might be persuaded to marry him.

But mostly she was happy with the way things were, and whenever she felt a little pang of longing, well, the feeling usually didn’t last long, and she was much too busy to dwell on it, anyway.