Free Lily and the Lion by Emily Dalton

further. And you, I'll wager, will feel a heavy load lifted from off your shoulders. It must be fatiguing to have to cudgel your brain continually to come up with such original turns of phrase for every female whose company you happen to share."
Lord Ashton laughed, which robust, delightful sound tickled Lily and made her smile quite involuntarily. "Lord, you offer me the word with no bark on it, don't you? Are you always so painfully honest, Miss Clarke?"
Lily opened her mouth to reply, but Lord Ashton lifted his hand, saying, "No, don't tell me. Your papa taught you to always speak the truth. Such a habit could be inconvenient at times."
"As inconvenient as my trusting nature, I suppose," Lily suggested, placing a piece of roasted chicken in her mouth.
"Neither traits are conducive to surviving in this distrustful, dishonest world, Miss Clarke," he said, abruptly sober again. "But never mind that! I told Peter I wouldn't plague you with my cynical views. What I want to know—and I want you to answer with perfect honesty!—is firstly, why are you so convinced that my compliments are insincere, and, secondly, why do you suppose that you are not in need of a chaperon?"
Lily set down her fork and gave the question considerable thought. "Well, firstly, perhaps I do have russet highlights in my hair—Mama and Papa have both said as much—and perhaps I have a tolerable complexion, but whether such attributes are worthy of comment is certainly up to the discernment of the observer. I'm quite sure you, my lord, moving as you do in noble circles, are used to being in the company of very beautiful ladies. If Leonard, the squire's son whose estate marches with the vicarage grounds, were to compare my skin to cream, I might believe him sincere. But from a viscount..."
Lord Ashton's brows raised expressively. "I am at a disadvantage because I am a peer? I would be better believed if I were untitled?"
"You would be better believed, my lord, if you were less a man of the world and more simple—like myself."
"And like Leonard, I suppose. I see. And the second part of my question?"
"I don't think I need a chaperon because I'm not a young girl anymore—"
"How old are you, Miss Clarke?"
"One-and-twenty."
"A positive ape-leader!"
"Precisely. And besides that, I don't think you mean to seduce me."
"I've not lived up to my reputation as a man of the world, then. All men of the world are seducers."
"Are they? Well, then you're not so much a man of the world as I had thought!"
"Such a pronouncement, Miss Clarke, quite takes the logic out of your answer to my first question. If I'm not a man of the world, you must believe then that my compliments are sincere!"
"Do you take your seat at the Upper House, my lord?" Lily enquired, impressed despite herself and disregarding his flirtatious assault on her logic. "You argue admirably. My brother Paul would find you quite fascinating."
"I don't recall meeting a Paul. Have you yet another brother?"
"Paul's a scholar at Oxford. He has aspirations for a public career."
"Hmm. This squire's son—Leonard, you say?— does he want to marry you, Miss Clarke?"
Taken aback at the viscount's persistent return to the original subject, and the frank question he asked, which was as direct as she herself might have phrased it, Lily answered laughingly, "Why, yes, he does!"
"When may I wish you happy?"
"You may not. I've no intention of marrying Leonard. He's a conceited popinjay. When he declared himself, he gave the distinct impression that he would be doing me and my family a great favour by marrying me."
"Was that the sole source of your aversion to the match—his manner of offering?"
"Heavens, no! I'm not such a noddy as that! I don't love him."
Lord Ashton grinned. "But I thought you loved all of God's creatures?"
Lily laughed. "Will you never stop quizzing me? You know very well that a certain sort of love is required between a husband and wife. I don't feel that sort of affection for Leonard. Indeed, I