Read Online Lily and the Lion by Emily Dalton - Free Book Online Page A

truthfully. "Not my sort at all." Nor your sort either, he thought to himself. But now was not the time to broach that particular subject. Thankfully, at that moment Pleshy entered the room. Now he'd have the help he needed in getting Peter into his nightshirt and cap and tucked into bed where he could wait for his dinner in warmth and comfort.
Moments later, Peter offered Julian a repentant smile. "I'm sorry, Uncle Julian," he said, yawning hugely. "You must forgive me for being so suspicious. I'm taken with the chit, you see. When you feel that way about a lady, you think all other men must feel the same way you do." Peter's brows drew together. "We must talk about how I feel about her before we reach Ashton House."
"Of course, Peter," said Julian, undoing his neckcloth in front of the mirror over the dressing-table. "But not tonight. I suspect you will need all of your strength simply to stay awake long enough to eat dinner. Is that agreeable to you, Nephew?"
A soft snore was the only reply.

CHAPTER FOUR
L ILY STOOD AT THE PARLOUR window looking out at the courtyard of The Pig and Thistle. The mews were barely discernible through the veil of falling snow. The surrounding beech trees sagged under the prodigious quantities of heavy, white precipitation that nested in the branches. Lily couldn't remember such a storm in many years. One would almost suppose they were in mountainous Cumberland rather than in the mild shire of Kent.
Lily shivered and withdrew from the window, where each pane was laced with crescents of snow in the corners, to stand by the fire. The parlour was small and plain, with comfortable furniture scattered about and a good-sized dining-table placed against the inside wall. The cloth had been laid and the covers neatly set. A brace of candles stood in the middle of the table and the innkeep, or his wife, perhaps, had in lieu of flowers fashioned a centrepiece out of a bowl of nuts and apples.
All was snug and pleasant, yet Lily felt extremely restless. Usually when she felt this sort of half trepidation, half expectation, it was because she'd left something unfinished. She sat in a rocking chair by the hearth and, as she vigorously rocked to and fro, mentally relived the past two hours since they'd arrived at the inn.
No, she could not recall omitting some responsibility. She'd ordered Peter a light but nourishing dinner and had sat with him as he ate. He'd had a nap directly after Lord Ashton and Pleshy had undressed him and tucked him into bed, and had fallen asleep again straight after his dish of stewed plums and cream. He was quite worn out and had a little headache besides, so she hoped he would sleep soundly till the morrow.
While she'd sat with Peter, Lord Ashton and Pleshy had removed themselves from the chamber, but she could not imagine where they'd gone, since she could not picture his lordship hobnobbing with the locals in the taproom. Though perhaps that's where Pleshy had chosen to go to wile away an hour or two. Now Pleshy sat with Peter.
She had left Janet in their shared bedchamber, the girl being quite knocked-up from travel and excitement. Lily owned herself to be tired, as well, but buoyed by some inexplicable sense of adventure. An odd notion, since what could possibly be exciting about spending a quiet night in an obscure inn during a snowstorm?
"You count promptness amongst your list of virtues, I see."
Lily stopped her rocking and turned to observe Lord Ashton standing in the doorway. His tall, athletic frame filled the opening and his presence dwarfed everything in the room to inconsequential comparison. And while he could easily stun the beholder in a frowsy little parlour at The Pig and Thistle, Lily was convinced that he was fully capable of making just as great an impression in any drawing-room in London. Even the Prince Regent's.
"Papa taught us to be punctual," Lily replied rather timidly. She felt inordinately shy.
Lord Ashton stepped into the room. He was wearing