Page 2 of The Pleasure in Persuasion

“May I be of assistance?” he repeated, keeping his tone friendly. “At the risk of sounding immodest, I do have a way with animals.”

It was this remark that finally drew her gaze to his, and Frederick gave her his most charming smile, even as her loveliness struck him momentarily stupid.

Her hair was tucked back in a messy chignon, the tresses thick and black as a raven’s wing, a stark contrast to her milk-white skin and striking blue-green eyes.

Eyes that narrowed on his smile as if it were a snake in the grass.

Assessing him now, she straightened to her full height, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulders, and as she brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek, she left an endearing smudge of dirt in its place.

“Well, then,” she said, offering him the length of rope. “By all means...”

Frederick stepped forward, ignoring the unmistakable skepticism in the young woman’s eyes as he took the rope from her outstretched hand and turned to Blythe the cow.

“Good afternoon, Blythe,” he crooned, slowly extending his free hand to stroke her neck, the short brown hair soft beneath his fingers. “My, you are a gorgeous girl, aren’t you? With those big brown eyes and that beautiful, shiny coat. If I’m not careful, I’m liable to fall in love with you.”

Blythe watched him carefully with said big brown eyes, baleful yet curious, and Frederick’s smile widened.

“Come on, then,” he continued. “Be a good girl and grant me the honor of escorting you home. Will you do that for me, love?”

Blythe emitted a long, deep low of acquiescence, and Frederick began to walk, his grip on the rope firm but forgiving as Blythe followed behind, her gait slow and relaxed.

The cow’s owner fell into step beside him, and he ventured a glance her way, grinning at the look of bemusement on her face. “You see?” he said. “Animals adore me.”

Full pink lips thinned into a severe line, and her only reply was a noncommittal hum, which told him nothing of her thoughts yet plucked at his curiosity and, irrationally, his pride. He’d never met a woman he could not charm.

Challenge accepted.

“Blythe is a beautiful animal,” he said over the sounds of clopping hooves and creaking carriage wheels. “Is she yours?”

“She is.”

“And do you often take her out for an afternoon walk?”

He slid her a teasing glance, hoping to elicit at least a glimmer of a smile, though whether her lips even worked that way still remained to be seen.

“Of course not,” she said stiffly, flicking him a look that seemed a far cry from charmed. “The barn gate was left open by mistake, and she wandered away.”

“I see.” He cleared his throat, casting about for another question to ask. “And do you two live nearby?” Christ above, Frederick, of course they live nearby. “That is, do you live on a nearby farm?”

Three beats of silence followed, as if in protest of his unwelcome curiosity, but finally she said, “No. I run the village inn with my grandmother.”

“An inn?” He could not keep the surprise from his voice. “That must keep your days rather interesting.”

“I suppose it must.”

She offered no more, and as he had grown weary of carrying the conversation by himself, he fell silent too, and the slow-moving motley crew continued its ambling trek up the lane.

Frederick kept his gaze on the empty stretch of road ahead, but his mind was on the quiet woman walking beside him. Who was she? What was her name?

And was she always this guarded or was he the cause of her reticence?

If he was, he had no idea why. She couldn’t possibly be cross with him—he had come to her rescue, after all, delaying his own journey in the process, and he expected nothing in return from her, except perhaps a word or two of thanks.

No, she couldn’t be unhappy with something he did, which meant she was unhappy over something else. Or perhaps she was simply an unhappy person.

Well, whatever the reason, it wasn’t his concern. She wasn’t his concern. She might be lovely to look at, but beauty only went so far. Frederick would take a plain, friendly woman with a ready smile over a grouchy goddess any day.

The remainder of the walk passed without incident or conversation, with the exception of an occasional word of encouragement for Blythe, and when The Weeping Whiskers Inn came into view, Frederick had to squelch a sigh of relief.