Gentlemen Prefer Mischief by Emily Greenwood

if people weren’t afraid of your horrifying sheep and their evil yarn?”
    Delia giggled. Lily gave him a dry look. “Yes.”
    “A pity.”
    “It really is such a pity,” Delia said, “since Lily knits—I mean since the knitting is so different and pretty.”
    Delia shot Lily a horrified look, but their visitors seemed not to have noticed what she’d started to say.
    “We’ve come to tell you,” Eloise said excitedly, “that Hal and Ivorwood nearly caught the Woods Fiend last night!”
    Lily relaxed at the change in topic. The last thing she needed was for Roxham to know she was engaged in trade, for how might someone who so loved to tease use such damaging information?
    “Did they?” she said. A twinge of conscience prodded her for pretending that she hadn’t been in the woods the night before, but she was Nate’s ally now, and what else could she do?
    “Yes!” Eloise enthused. “Hal and Ivorwood went out together and watched and waited for hours by the wood.”
    “Oh,” said Delia with shining eyes. “How persevering and brave of them.”
    The viscount was looking ever so nonchalant while his praises were being sung. Old Duffer, Old Duffer , Lily chanted to herself as she took in the interestingly boxy way his brown coat sat on his lean, broad shoulders.
    “I’m certain they must have been so uncomfortable,” Eloise said, “but they were rewarded when they saw the lights of a torch in the trees.”
    “No!” Lily said.
    “Yes!” Eloise clasped her hands excitedly. She seemed like such a sweet young lady. Lily wondered what it was like for her, having Lord Perfect for a brother. Being so much younger, she probably idolized him.
    “Hal was just about to capture our trespasser when a small tree fell on him.”
    “Surprising, a little tree just falling in the woods like that,” Lily said.
    “Yes—it was some sort of trap.” Eloise shook her head. “And though Ivorwood gave chase, the Fiend escaped.”
    “Goodness!” Delia said. “I hope you weren’t hurt, Hal.”
    “Fortunately I wasn’t injured by the… trickery that prevented me from catching our trespasser,” he said. Lily could feel him looking at her with an air of accusation.
    “So fortunate, so brave,” she said, at which point the Old Duffer made his eyes into slits meant to let her know she was overdoing it. She gave him her most serene smile.
    “In any case,” he said, crossing his arms and giving her the kind of look he might once have trained on an enemy spy, “I mean to win that wager. I’ve done some investigating and discovered places in the woods where our spirit has been digging. One can only wonder why. Is something being buried? Or is our Fiend looking for something? What do you think, Lily?”
    She forced a smile—he mustn’t see how worried his probing was making her. “Possibly. Though perhaps it’s best not to spread it around, about the digging. People might think the Fiend is preparing fresh graves.”
    Delia and Eloise thought that quite funny.
    “Do you think,” Eloise said, dabbing at a tear of mirth, “that I could see these sheep that are supposed to be possessed?”
    “Oh, let’s do!” Delia said, taking Eloise by the arm. “If you and Hal don’t mind, Lily?”
    “Of course we don’t,” he said, not giving her a chance to reply, and the girls departed, heads already bowing together as they chattered.
    “I don’t appreciate your speaking for me,” Lily said.
    “Viscount’s prerogative. So tell me,” he said, reaching out and giving the spinning wheel a spin, “how much time do you spend in here?”
    “A little.” Her stomach took a dip. Was he suspicious?
    He began wandering around, and she felt he was taking pleasure in invading her space. He took his time, lifting the covers of the dye buckets and asking her how the dyes were created, as if he truly wished to understand how it all worked.
    He paused over the crate of shawls Mr. Trent had sent back; she’d refolded them and