“ROSE, DON’T!” Lily pleaded in a whisper.
“Whyever not? It’s a kind gesture to see to a guest’s welfare.” Ignoring her sister, Rose knocked on the door. “Lord Randal?” She raised her voice—and an Ashcroft’s raised voice was no timid thing, living as they did with the half-deaf earl. “Lord Randal, are you quite all right? Will you be needing anything more this evening?”
Lily groaned, then sucked in her breath when the door suddenly swung open. There stood Rand, looking haphazard and half-asleep in nothing but a shirt and trousers. His sleeves were pushed up to reveal tanned forearms.
Though Lily ought to have been shocked by his state of undress, all she could think was, How does a university professor acquire tanned forearms? Weren’t academics supposed to spend their days buried in books?
“Yes?” he said to Lily, despite her sister having been the original speaker. Jarred from her musings, she moved her gaze up to his face—way up, since he was so much taller—and once again found herself staring. He looked different in the meager candlelight, his features thrown into sharp relief. She realized his wasn’t a pretty face. His jaw was a dash too strong, his nose too long, his brows too heavy and straight. But there was something about those eyes, that smile…
She made herself release the breath she’d been holding. “I—”
“I only wanted to inquire as to your welfare,” Rose hurried to put in.
“I’m quite fine,” he said, moving to lean against the doorway.
A cloud of scent moved with him. Not a subtle cloud. “Have you been testing Mum’s perfumes?” Rose wrinkled her nose. “I apologize, my lord. Evidently one of my mother’s creations is less than pleasing.”
Very tactful wording for Rose, Lily thought with admiration. She’d never seen her sister make such an effort at courtesy.
Rand waved a hand, releasing another burst of fragrance. “Oh, I’ve quite enjoyed the perfumes,” he assured them.
“I expect you have,” Lily said, biting back a smile. It wasn’t a bad bottle, if she didn’t miss her guess, but rather an unfortunate mixture of several. “How many scents have you sampled?”
“All of them,” he said, rubbing his jaw, then sniffing his fingers. His eyes widened. “I suppose that wasn’t such a good idea?”
“One doesn’t mix fragrances. That’s the perfumer’s job,” Rose informed him, sounding both intelligent and instructor-like.
A professor ought to admire that air of competence, Lily thought.
But he only shrugged. “I did it rather absently, I expect. My mind was elsewhere.”
His gaze strayed to Lily’s, perhaps implying where his mind had been. Could he truly have been thinking of her all this time? Regardless, it didn’t matter. She’d made a promise to Rose.
“I…I must see to my animals before bed,” she stammered, feeling her cheeks heat. Wondering whether that was due to his compelling eyes or her mention of the word bed, she hoped it was too dark for him to see her blush. “I expect you’ll be wanting a bath before you sleep?”
Judging from the way Rand’s lips curved—knowingly—he had seen. “I expect that would be wise.” He rubbed his jaw again with a touch of self-consciousness.
“Go ahead, Lily,” Rose said. “Your menagerie needs tending.” She gave an elegant wave. “I’ll be happy to see that Lord Randal gets his bath.”
I’ll bet you would, Lily couldn’t help thinking, and something in Rand’s expression told her he was thinking the same thing. “You’re exceedingly kind,” he said to Rose with a slight bow, “but please don’t trouble yourself. I’m perfectly capable of seeing to my own needs.”
Catching Lily’s gaze, he smiled tentatively before shutting the door.