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

buff-coloured breeches and a bottle green jacket. As always, his neckcloth was tastefully and impeccably tied. His hair shone like spun gold in the firelight. He fixed her with a penetrating gaze and a moment passed before he spoke. "Your papa has taught you a great deal." His eyes flickered about the room, then returned to her. "But I perceive that he has not taught you in the correct use of a chaperon."
"Oh!" said Lily, rising from her chair to stand by the fire, nervously chafing her hands behind her as if she were cold. Truth to tell, she had got a sudden chill. "Janet was fagged to death. I told her to go to bed."
Lord Ashton seemed to be assimilating this piece of information. He crooked one arm behind his back and pulled on his chin with the long fingers of his other hand as he walked slowly to the dining-table. "She cannot be of much use there, I perceive."
"No, indeed!" said Lily with a forced trill of laughter. "But I cannot help but feel the whole notion of me needing a chaperon is quite cork-brained! Don't you agree, my lord?"
Lord Ashton lifted his enigmatic eyes once again to her face, observed her with nonchalant purpose for a full moment, curled his lips in a mocking smile, and pulled out a chair. "Sit down, Miss Clarke. I'm positively feeble with hunger."
Lily did not think such a man could ever look feeble, however hungry he might be. And she did not suppose that lions of the jungle, to which the man was compared, looked especially feeble when they were hungry, but rather were more keen-eyed, cunning and purposeful in pursuing a remedy for their hunger. Lily sat down, and catching the sharp look in his lordship's eyes, felt suddenly as vulnerable as a lamb.
"You said I must put up with the toggery you brought on the journey, Miss Clarke," he said once she was seated. "But I find your gown quite charming. The rose patterns bring out the russet highlights of your hair."
"Th-thank you, my lord," Lily mumbled, blushing so furiously she was sure her cheeks were as russet-coloured as the highlights of which he spoke. It had been easy to shrug off Peter's compliments, but attentions of the same sort from Lord Ashton made her as flustered as a schoolroom miss, and her all of one-and-twenty! She supposed he felt it his duty to pay her a compliment or two. She would try not to let it discompose her.
Luckily the innkeep's wife entered just then with a selection of dishes. Apparently the proprietress of the establishment felt Lord Ashton deserved preferential treatment, for she brought the entire meal herself. Once the table was heavy-laden with numerous aromatic dishes, she left them alone. Silence prevailed while they both partook of the variety before them and proceeded to eat.
"Do you drink wine, Miss Clarke?" Lord Ashton presently asked, in a lazily teasing voice as he poured himself a scant amount of a pungent, fruity vintage into a tumbler. "Or does 'Papa' disapprove of strong spirits?"
Lily was slicing a sweet potato with knife and fork, her attention fixed on her task. She wondered if he would continue to enjoy a certain unholy glee at the expense of her vicarage rearing. She stifled her urge to retort something shocking. "Papa does not think wine is sinful in moderate doses," she finally replied in an even tone. "In fact, he drinks it sometimes to enrich his blood. But I prefer milk."
Lord Ashton set down the carafe and reached for the crock of milk, then poured her a glass. "Ah, your preference for such a creamy beverage must account for the milky smoothness of your complexion."
Lily's knife and fork fell from her fingers, clattering on the plate. She lifted her head and met his surprised look straight on. "Please, Lord Ashton, do not assume that, just because I'm a female, you must needs feel duty-bound to offer me compliments. I'm not such a fashionable one who regards flummery as my due. I am simply Peter's nurse and friend, and I would be vastly more comfortable if you would not comment on my person