Page 26 of The Pleasure in Persuasion

He nodded, his eyes locked on hers, and the look on his face seemed almost tender, though surely that couldn’t be right. Surely that was the effects of the kiss playing tricks on her mind.

She swallowed. “Right. Well, then, we’d best get back to work, hadn’t we?”

“I suppose we had,” he replied, and his smile was back in place as if the kiss had never happened.

Of course, it hadn’t been much of a kiss, had it? A single tick of the clock and then it was over. Hardly a kiss worth losing one’s head over.

Shoving all thoughts of kisses to the back of her mind, she dragged the basket of apples, now half-full, to a new section of tree ready to be relieved of its fruit.

Frederick leaned the ladder against the trunk and then Lily climbed up and began picking apples and tossing them into the basket.

Neither of them spoke a word, and the silence between them seemed fraught and uncomfortable, but Lily had to admit the possibility this was her own projection, that it was only she who felt fraught and uncomfortable.

You are being silly, she scolded herself.

For goodness’ sake, she was fretting, and she was not the sort of girl who fretted. Especially over something so silly as a kiss that hadn’t even been real.

“Why aren’t you interested in Mr. Carstairs?”

Lily stilled in the process of tossing an apple into the basket, his question catching her by surprise.

“You’ve met him,” she answered, letting the apple drop. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“I will admit, he does seem like a bit of a jackass, but then, most men are.”

She reached for another apple, and there was a bite to her voice as she said, “Meaning what? That marriage to a ‘bit of a jackass’ is better than no marriage at all?”

A long moment of silence followed, as if he were debating the wisdom in answering, then finally he said, “It is only you and your grandmother running this inn. A husband would at least help to lighten the load.”

Merciful heavens. She was sick to death of hearing that argument.

“Perhaps,” she said. “Or he might bring a whole host of new problems with him.”

“Perhaps,” Frederick parroted. “But you wouldn’t be alone.”

Lily had considered that many times before. Being alone wasn’t the worst thing in the world, though. She liked herself and her own company, and she was content with the way things were. A husband could easily upset the balance, and she wasn’t willing to take that risk, especially on a man who was a bit of a jackass.

“I don’t mind being alone,” she said, rising on her toes to snatch an apple that was just out of reach.

“Don’t you? I do.”

The confession surprised her, that he would admit to such a vulnerability, and admit it to her, a practical stranger.

“Why?” she asked, before tossing a rotten apple to the ground.

“Because…” He hesitated, or perhaps he was simply gathering his thoughts. “Because I think too much when I’m alone.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

He was quiet again and she wished she could see his face. Then, in a voice so soft she barely caught the words, he said, “I think it is.”

Lily didn’t dare to ask, but she wondered what he meant by that, what thoughts were so terrible he dreaded being alone with them. He was such a friendly, charming man that it was easy to assume he was uncomplicated, too. But, apparently, he wasn’t. He was a man with hidden depths and secrets, and the realization made him all the more attractive to her.

She wanted to know those secrets, dash it all, but to what end? He was leaving soon. And allowing herself to get close to him, to care for him, would do her no good.

Indeed, it would be the height of foolishness.