Page 27 of The Pleasure in Persuasion

Chapter Eight

“Have you ever done this before?” Lily asked, trying to hide her apprehension as Frederick shifted the axe from hand to hand.

“No,” he replied, flexing his fingers around the wooden handle. “But how difficult can it possibly be for a young, strapping lad like myself?”

His smile was full of boyish confidence, and it was difficult to doubt him when he stood there looking like a Greek god come to life, his blue eyes bright and eager, his black hair falling across his determined brow.

“Be that as it may,” Lily said, battling a smile, “please promise you will be careful. Your sister would never forgive me if I returned you to her in pieces.”

He gave her a grin before turning toward the large stack of wood waiting to be chopped. “I’ll be careful, boss. I promise.”

Smiling to herself, Lily left him to his work and headed for the kitchen, her mind filled with thoughts of all he’d done these last three days. After they’d finished with the apple trees, he’d spent the next two days washing the windows and clearing away the dust and spider webs from all the eaves and doorways. No task was beneath him, no job too big or small.

He surprised her constantly with his kindness, his willingness to try, and how easily he’d settled in here, as if he had always been here. As if he intended to stay.

Which, of course, he did not.

Lily paused just outside the kitchen door and turned to glance back at Frederick. He’d removed his coat and was now rolling his shirtsleeves up to the elbow, showing off his strong, well-formed forearms.

The day was a warm one, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he would look like with his shirt off altogether, her mind conjuring up a lean, muscled torso and broad, naked shoulders gleaming with perspiration beneath the afternoon sun.

“Lily-pad?”

She startled and her gaze shot guiltily to the now-open doorway, where her grandmother stood watching her with both brows raised high.

“Are you coming inside, or do you intend to stand there staring at Mr. Darrington all day?”

Cheeks burning, Lily followed her grandmother inside, and shut the door behind her, grumbling, “I wasn’t staring at Mr. Darrington.”

“Hogwash. Of course you were. He is a handsome man, and there is no shame in looking.”

Except she hadn’t simply been looking. She’d been ogling, and she’d been caught at it. By her grandmother, no less. Her cheeks flushed anew.

“After all, fair is fair,” Gran continued as they entered the kitchen. “He stares at you, too.”

“He does not,” Lily argued, as if offended by the idea, even as a secret thrill whispered up her spine.

“He does so,” Gran said. “Often.” A feline smile Lily had never seen before curled her grandmother’s lips. “The boy is smitten with you, dear.”

There was that thrill again, a bodily response she could not control, and one that spoke of secret longings she’d been trying to deny.

“Mr. Darrington is not smitten with me,” Lily said firmly, her voice revealing none of the regret the words inspired. “He is a charming man who is helping us temporarily before he returns to London. Any attention he might be paying me is only pretend.”

Her grandmother gave an indelicate snort. “I disagree. Mr. Darrington likes you, and I believe he could come to love you, if you would only encourage him.”

Lily sighed. “Gran—”

“If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me. I’d like to spend my final days with a handsome young man to feast my eyes upon, preferably one with broad shoulders and firm thighs.”

Lily choked on a laugh. “Gran, please!”

But her grandmother only grinned. “I may be old, my dear, but I am not dead.”

“Even so, you shouldn’t say such things to your granddaughter,” Lily said, only half joking. “Besides, I thought we had decided you were going to live forever.”

Gran patted her arm. “No one lives forever, dear. Much as we might like them to.”

Frederick brought the axe down on another block of wood and smiled as it split in two with a satisfying crack.