Page 33 of The Pleasure in Persuasion

“You’re not,” a voice said from behind Penelope. “You’re right on time, but my sister here is a worrier.”

Frederick stepped into view then, his smile wry, and Lily’s heart skipped a beat when his eyes met hers. It was a silly reaction, really, considering she’d seen him only a handful of hours ago, but it could not be helped. Not with the way he looked in his dark blue tailcoat, slate gray trousers and silver waistcoat that set off his light eyes and dark hair to perfection.

He was breathtaking, and Lily tried her best not to stare as she followed her grandmother into the entrance hall, but she knew she was failing miserably. She hadn’t seen him dressed this way since her visit to Penelope’s house last week, and as much as she enjoyed seeing him in workman’s clothes, he looked positively gorgeous tonight in his elegant dinner attire.

“I am not a worrier, Freddy,” Penelope protested with a swish of her peach chiffon skirts. “I was eager for our guests to arrive.”

Lily bit back a smile. Penelope was most definitely a worrier.

“Well, your guests have arrived, and we are very glad to be here,” Gran said. “Thank you for having us tonight.”

The foursome filed into the drawing room for pre-dinner refreshments, and Lily stole another glance at Frederick, only to find him looking at her.

He smiled, lopsided and slightly abashed, as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “You look beautiful,” he said, his voice low, like they were sharing secrets.

“Thank you,” she said, inordinately shy, though it was precisely what she’d hoped to hear. “So do you.”

His smile widened and he looked to be on the verge of a reply, but then he noticed his sister watching them and whatever he’d been about to say went unuttered.

“You look lovely this evening, as well, Mrs. Grayling,” he said instead, as he waited for the women to sit before claiming the chair beside his sister’s. “Is that a new shawl you’re wearing?”

“Oh, no,” Gran said, smoothing her hands over the fringed floral silk. “It is positively ancient, but I suppose it still looks new because I seldom have cause to wear it.” A tender smile turned her lips. “It was a gift from my husband on our thirtieth wedding anniversary.”

“It’s beautiful, Mrs. Grayling,” Penelope said with a smile.

“Thank you,” Gran replied. “And thank you for giving me a reason to wear it again. And an opportunity to spend the evening with your brother. He’s been a great help around the inn these last few days, and I must admit, I’ve grown quite fond of him.”

As have I, Lily thought. As have I.

“The feeling is mutual, ma’am,” Frederick said with a grin, and Lily drank in the sight of that smile, and the sincere affection in it as he gazed at her grandmother. She longed for him to look at her like that—to look at her at all—but he didn’t, and the rest of the evening was spent much the same.

He wasn’t ignoring her, precisely, but he was still keeping her at arm’s length, and she didn’t know what to do about it. She tried to engage him in conversation at dinner, and while he answered all her questions and was unfailingly polite, his comments were brief and to the point and he did not linger with her under the watchful eye of his sister.

Frustrated with him and Penelope both, Lily was almost grateful when her grandmother announced it was time for them to leave.

“It’s been a lovely evening,” Gran said, rising from the sofa in the drawing room, “but we really must get ourselves to bed. Mr. Darrington, may I impose upon you to walk us home?”

“Oh, Mrs. Grayling,” Penelope interjected, as the rest of the party stood, “do let me arrange for the carriage to take you home. It is much too late for walking—”

“Nonsense,” Gran interrupted with a wave of her hand. “It is a fine evening, and an after-dinner walk will do us all some good.”

Although she looked less than thrilled with the development, Penelope made no further arguments, and a few minutes later, after thank-yous had been expressed and farewells exchanged, Lily and her grandmother set off for home with Frederick as their escort.

The moon was bright and nearly full, the night air quiet save for the rustling of the trees and an occasional owl hooting for its supper. There was a bit of a chill in the air, Lily observed, snuggling into her wool knit shawl, but Gran was right. It was a fine evening for a walk. Especially with a handsome young man at one’s side.

“Thank you for escorting us home, Frederick,” she said in a low voice, her gaze on the dirt path stretched before them.

Gran had walked ahead, claiming she had talked quite enough for one evening, and for the first time all night, Lily finally found herself alone with Frederick.

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, and the words sounded genuine if a little subdued.

“It was a lovely evening.” She cleared her throat. “The meal was excellent.”

“It was. My sister’s cook is a culinary master.”

Lily bit her bottom lip, her stomach twisting at the apparent loss of comfortable conversation between them. She wished she knew what to say to get it back.

“Are you warm enough, Gran?” she called out. “Do you need my shawl?”