Page 21 of The Trouble with Tweed

“One and the same.”

“What does she have to do with Margaret’s newfound joy of reading?”

“She and my sister are friends, apparently.” The emphasis she placed on the word told how little she valued such a thing.

Michael hid his smile behind his teacup. Claire had always been the solitary, independent sort. The fact that she’d come to him for assistance with her plan for the Season was a small miracle in itself.

She continued, “Though it isn’t a joy of reading they have in common—it’s a joy of shocking people.”

“I hardly think that the contents of an encyclopedia could be considered shocking.”

“You’d be surprised,” she murmured.

Michael examined the flush of Claire’s cheeks as she sipped her tea. The blush teased his curiosity, but he was acutely aware of all the listening ears around them. Any other time or place, he would have pressed and cajoled an answer from her.

“Still, it could be worse,” he said, instead. “Encyclopedias are much better than those dreadful romance novels my sister favors. You should be glad that Margaret has found such an edifying past time.”

Claire gave a noncommittal hum.

“What of your other sisters? Are they excited to have a Season? It’s nearly upon us.”

“I worry for Lily,” she said, leaning closer and lowering her voice.

Michael knew it was concern for her sister and the desire to keep her words secret that had her leaning forward with such an earnest expression on her face, but to everyone else, it might have looked that she was sharing far sweeter truths.

“Why?”

“She’s—well, surely you’ve noticed how beautiful she is.”

Michael shrugged. He wasn’t such an idiot as to admit he’d noticed any such thing, not to the object of his affection, at least.

“Oh, come now.” Claire scoffed. “She’s stunning, and anyone with two working eyes can see it.”

“She’s pretty enough, but no one outshines you, Claire.”

She pressed her lips together in the way she did when she longed to roll her eyes but was kept from such a satisfying expression by surrounding society.

Michael added, “Surely her beauty can only help her when it comes to having a Season?”

“On the contrary—she’s too sweet, and she doesn’t like attention.”

He winced. Despite his reluctance to say so to Claire, Lily Preston was gorgeous. She would have caused a stampede of bachelors even without the enormous dowry she now possessed.

“That might be a problem,” he admitted.

“You don’t have to tell me that. Besides, Lily is of such a wonderful temperament that she thinks the best of everyone. I shudder to think of her marrying the likes of…”

“Me?” he offered.

She flapped her hand distractedly. “Don’t be ridiculous. As far as rakes go, you’re well enough, I suppose.”

“You flatter me, madam.”

Claire tsked him and sipped her steaming tea. Michael took the moment to admire her once more. This new reality was heady to him, that after so much time apart with no explanation, Claire Preston was sitting across from him in a tearoom, sharing casual banter.

She wasn’t as outlandishly lovely as her sister Lily, but Michael thought her beauty far more interesting for it. Claire didn’t have huge doe eyes—hers were perfectly sized for her slender face—but they were sly and expressive. Claire could communicate an entire witty conversation with just those green eyes.

And perhaps Lily had more hair than Claire, but it was the same kind—ash brown with a slight curl. Claire would have looked ridiculous if she’d had any more of it—like she was wearing a mop atop her head.