Page 20

After placing the small stack of letters on the corner, she tidied up her already neat desk and with a last glance at the dressing screen which concealed the nook that would become her make-shift sleeping chamber for the indeterminable future, she left her office.

Having decided to speak with Miss Sanders straightaway, she made for the woman’s third-story chamber. She would start the search there and continue with the rest of the house and grounds.

Men’s laughter carried to Lilly as she approached the landing, and brow furrowed, she picked up her pace.

Charles and his patient?

Alarm sluiced through her when she turned the corner and observed her bedchamber door standing open.

Drat and double drat.

There had been no opportunity to speak with Charles about confining their uninvited guest.

Stupid, stupid numpty for leaving the key in the keyhole.

With more trepidation than the situation warranted, Lilly approached her chamber just as another round of laughter burst forth.

“I am sincerely grateful. All that lace did rather emasculate me.”

Lilly peeked around the doorjamb just in time to see the donated nightshirt get tugged over the mysterious stranger’s dark head, exposing a nicely muscled chest covered with a tempting smattering of sable hair. The strips around his ribs stood out in stark contrast to his tanned skin, suggesting he had spent time shirtless in some place that boasted considerably more sun than the English countryside.

She should add that detail to her list of clues about him.

“Ahem.” She cleared her throat and continued into the room. “What, may I ask, is going on?”

Seven

Still in Lilly’s bedchamber

Ten awkward heartbeats later

Charles half-turned, a green and gold striped nightshirt clutched in his hands. Clothing rumpled and hair unkempt as usual, he gave her a sideways smile. “Our guest was less than comfortable wearing a matron’s cast-off nightgown. I rummaged through the recent donations and found this.”

He held the faded garment up.

It appeared too small, hence why she had selected the lacy nightgown. The previous owner must have been quite large. Finding a nightshirt that would accommodate his broad shoulders had been somewhat of a challenge, as had maneuvering the insensate man into the garment. As he had been unaware of his attire, Lilly had opted for pragmatism rather than fashion.

Lilly almost blurted, Beggars cannot be choosers, but held her tongue.

She conceded such a rugged man had looked rather silly with ruffled lace at his neck, wrists, and several rows across his chest. At least she had removed the slew of pink ribbons previously adorning the garment.

With a devilish twinkle in his eye, their guest looked over Charles’s shoulder.

“I usually sleep nude, but in consideration of your tender sensibilities…” He trailed off, but a distinctly wicked gleam shone in his gray eye.

Of all the things to remember.

Flames licked her cheeks, but Lilly held his mocking stare.

Their invalid must be feeling better, the rogue.

Charles choked on a cough.

Or was it a chuckle?

In truth, Lilly was not sure which.

She leveled him a contemplative glance.