I Kissed an Earl: Pennyroyal Green Series by Julie Anne Long

the only picture in the room. She wandered over to where the mysterious male toiletries were lined, and after only a moment’s hesitation, lifted up his shaving soap for a sniff. She was just rediscovering the tantalizing whiff of the earl she’d had when he’d leaned in during the waltz when a knock at the door startled her, and her hands clamped suddenly. The soap shot from her hands and flew across the room, skidding to a halt under the bed. Bloody hell.
    “It’s Lord Lavay, Miss Redmond, with a breakfast for you.”
    Lavay! The prospect of conversation with a handsome, easily charmed man cheered her, and the moment she heard the word breakfast her stomach whined like a punished mongrel. She dove for the soap and patted fruitlessly beneath the bed, but it remained out of reach. She gave up when he knocked again, and flew to the door and opened it.
    Lavay took evident pleasure in just looking at her. Those gray eyes glowed in silent, subtle masculine approval. In other words, he didn’t appear to be about to lose himself in a frenzy of animalistic behavior.
    “Good morning, Lord Lavay.” She curtsied. “I imagine the captain informed you I was aboard. Thank you so much for thinking of me. You are too kind.”
    Violet took the tray from him. A domed tureen perched on top of it. She looked around the cabin for a spot to place it, and decided to carefully settle it next to the chessboard. When she did, the fallen queen rolled a bit, as though suffering a stomachache. Violet didn’t yet want to right it; it reminded her of victory.
    “Oh, yes. And Corcoran has been spreading your legend among the men on the ship. You’d think a mermaid had come up in one of the nets. We came to fisticuffs in the galley over who would have the honor of bringing breakfast to you, and I won.”
    “Fisticuffs?” This sounded ominous. It was precisely what the captain had predicted. Good God, she’d already laid his crew low. She surreptitiously inspected Lavay for bruising. “And yet…you won?”
    Mr. Lavay laughed. “Your skepticism wounds me to the very soul, Miss Redmond! Very well. I’ll confess the crew recalled my rank just as the discussion was growing heated. I apologize if I led you to believe you may have caused bloodshed.”
    Bloodshed! It was likely the one thing in her life she hadn’t yet caused. She supposed there was still time.
    “Fear not, Mr. Lavay. I suspect I shall rapidly recover from my shock,” she said gravely. Which made him smile slowly. “You’re not shocked at all.”
    She returned his smile. Freshly taking his measure. Approving his insight and his humor. Oily, Jonathan had called him. Jonathan was likely simply envious. She found him just as elegant and unforced as when she’d first danced with him. He showed no signs of influencing her breathing or her temper the way the earl did.
    Still…she recalled her profoundly self-contained brother Miles throwing a fist into Argosy’s face in the name of love. And of her brother Lyon vanishing and possibly taken to pirating. Reckless extremes and absurd behavior always seemed to accompany love. Perhaps she was immune to love.
    She wasn’t certain whether or not she was relieved at this notion.
    “I find it intriguing that we should meet again under these circumstances,” he added. A leading statement to be sure. An invitation to expound. And how different this was from the captain’s relentless interrogation.
    As if the thought of him conjured him, they both whirled guiltily at the sound of booted feet rapidly heading their way.
    Seconds later something like an eclipse fell across the doorway.
    “Good morning. I trust you slept comfortably, Miss Redmond.”
    The earl’s voice was formal, bass, and brisker than a carafe of coffee poured down one’s gullet. It was the sort of voice that pulled spines straighter, would get a man’s head swiveling guiltily in search of work to do. She could only imagine the effect it had on his crew, since her