Page 43 of The Pleasure in Persuasion

“I didn’t,” he admitted. “But I learned by doing and, strange as it may sound, I rather enjoyed the work.”

She was silent for a long beat, staring at him as if she hardly recognized him, and then she said, “Do you know, I think you mean that. I think you truly did enjoy it.”

He had to laugh at the utter astonishment in her voice. “And I only smashed my thumb with the hammer once, which I think is rather good for a beginner, don’t you?”

But she did not smile at his jest, instead chewing on her lower lip, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. “Oh, Freddy. I’m so sorry.”

Now it was Frederick’s turn to stare. Penelope was a kind woman with a loving heart, but she did not go around handing out apologies willy-nilly.

“Sorry for what?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

“For misjudging you and underestimating you.” She sighed. “I should not have distrusted your intentions at the inn.”

He blinked in surprise then sat back in his chair, a grim smile curving his lips. “Yes, you should have.”

“No, I shouldn’t,” she argued. “I wrongly assumed you’d orchestrated these visits to get close to Lily, but you truly are helping her and her grandmother.”

“I am,” he said quietly. “But you were right to question my intentions. They were not entirely pure.”

Not that they’d ever been nefarious, of course, but he had made the offer to work at the inn in the hopes it would lead to more time with Lily.

“I see,” Penelope said slowly, her brow knit, as if she wasn’t sure what to make of the admission. “And are your intentions pure now?”

Frederick leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees, staring into the fire as he considered how to answer.

“No,” he finally admitted. “Not entirely. I enjoy working at the inn more than I expected to, but I wouldn’t be nearly so keen if Lily weren’t there. I know you warned me to stay away from her, Pen, but I don’t want to. In fact, I never want to be apart from her.”

The words slipped out, smooth and wily, as if they’d been perched on the tip of his tongue, waiting for just the right moment to leap.

He fell back in his chair, stunned by the revelation. Stunned, too, by how good it sounded, how right it felt, the prospect of spending his life with Lily. Even the thought made the future seem brighter.

“I had no idea you felt that way, Freddy,” Penelope said softly, her own surprise evident in her voice. “Does Lily feel the same for you?”

He raked a hand through his hair, uncertainty rolling over him in waves. “I think so. Maybe.” Bollocks. “I don’t know.”

“Well, you have to ask her, of course. You cannot leave Little Bilberry without knowing how she feels.”

Despite his roiling emotions, a sardonic smile curled his lips. “You’ve certainly changed your tune. Not so very long ago, you threatened to maim me if I went anywhere near Lily.”

“That was last week,” she said, waving his words away with a flick of her hand. “I see now how much you care for her, and how happy you two could be together.”

Frederick’s smile dimmed. “She might refuse me,” he pointed out, the thought sending a bolt of panic through his chest.

“And she might not,” Penelope shot back. “She may very well accept you.”

But were the odds in his favor or were they against him? Lily seemed to enjoy being with him and he thought she cared for him, but would she marry him? Would she—could she—let him into her carefully cultivated life?

He honestly couldn’t say, which meant his sister was right, and there was only one way he would know for certain.

He would have to talk to Lily.

If he was brave enough to do it.