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Distinctly more wary than she had been upon entering her room, Lilly eyed her uninvited guest.
How did one know if a person was a rotter?
A handsome man who many women considered quite dashing, the sheriff’s outer appearance hid a vile soul and black character. So just because this man did not look evil, did not mean he was not.
She shifted her focus to his eyepatch.
Was that a clue?
Mayhap Mrs. B was wrong.
Perhaps, he had not been in the military or was not a man of the sea at all, but a highwayman or a footpad.
Lilly’s heart skipped a beat, and her mouth went dry as sawdust.
She cast a swift glance at the stout paneled door.
Perhaps, she should start locking the chamber.
Just in case.
Yes. Yes, that was what she would do.
He could not escape out a window from the third-story bedchamber without breaking his neck. As she had already removed most of her clothing and was not sleeping in her chamber until he left, that seemed the most sensible solution.
Having come to that logical decision, Lilly felt much reassured, and she breathed out a silent sigh of relief, though a tiny stab of remorse pricked her at her inhospitable musings.
As he appeared fast asleep, her questions would have to wait, which meant further delay in discovering just who this man was. She collected the key from its cozy mooring inside the lock. The metal made a faint scraping noise, and she made a mental note to have all the keyholes in the house oiled since she could not recall when they had last been attended to.
“I am awake.”
She almost yelped in surprise. Only years of having naughty children pull pranks on her kept her face serene and her composure sedate.
Lilly pivoted as he slowly opened his eye.
Unrelenting flinty gray bored into her before dropping to the skeleton key clutched between her thumb and forefinger. This was not a man one wanted as an enemy, and what she intended to do would make him hers.
A shiver scuttled across her shoulders.
“So, I am to be a prisoner now?”
Five
Still in Miss Granger’s bedchamber
After the passage of several harrowing heartbeats
The flush sweeping up the slope of Miss Granger’s gently rounded cheeks and her small tongue darting out to dampen the plump pillow of her lower lip confirmed her guilt.
Not that he blamed her.
If he did not know who the devil a person was, he would bloody well lock them inside a room too.
For all he knew, he might be a smuggler or a swindler.
Or worse.
The simple slate blue gown she wore did nothing to enhance her features, but neither did it detract from her natural attractiveness.
