Page 18 of The Earl’s Marriage of Convenience

“Lord Devon,” she answered, her expression unreadable.

Edwin held her gaze, a bit of a challenge in his expression, he was sure. There was something familiar about her. And a moment later, he understood what it was.

Calculation.

He glanced away as the butler arrived, announcing dinner.

And since his siblings all had their own spouses to escort them, he offered his hand to Lady Eliza. “If I may?”

She accepted his hand with a demure nod.

He gave a soft laugh. “You can save your charm for others. I’m merely an extension of your family, Lady Eliza. Though, I do appreciate your civility.”

“My charm?” she asked, her expression a perfect mix of confusion and interest.

“Yes. You are exceptional at portraying exactly what needs to be done. I applaud you.”

A bit of her façade melted. “You sound judgmental.”

“No,” he said with a more feeling than politeness. “Not at all.” He gave a bit of a conspiratorial smile. “Like recognizes like, Lady Eliza. I have nothing but respect for you.”

“Like recognizes like?” she echoed as they entered the dining hall.

“Yes. Because you and I aren’t quite so different as you think,” he added as he pulled out her chair and seated her at the table. “We both know the part we must play and play it well. Because in the end, we know it matters. More than we’d care to admit.” He met her gaze, gave a quick bow, and walked away, but not before a little bit of hidden vulnerability slipped through her expression.

His words had hit a mark.

Because the truth often did.

Chapter Eight

Eliza studied the man across from her. Like recognizes like, he’d said, and little did he know the effect his words had had on her. She’d not expected the odd sensation of comfort his statement had brought. Maybe it was an often-played game, but at the same time, didn’t that mean that perhaps it wasn’t just her engaged in that charade?

“Did you have a good afternoon, Edwin?” Henley asked as the first course was served.

“I did, it was peaceful. Not remarkable, which was pleasant.”

“So, you didn’t visit any ladies this afternoon?” Henley asked with a weight to his tone.

“I made arrangements for tomorrow,” Edwin remarked, his expression skeptical.

Eliza kept watching the discussion between brothers, studying their nuances. She’d never had a sibling, but she had cousins, and lively conversation reminded her of the best days of her childhood, though they were quite few.

Henley smirked. “Arrangements, is it? How efficient of you.”

“Efficiency is a virtue I find increasingly necessary,” Edwin replied, reaching for his glass.

“And yet…” Henley leaned back. “You’ve managed to avoid committing to anything of substance.”

Edwin’s gaze flickered—briefly, deliberately—to her. “One must be certain a thing is worth committing to.”

The words were casual.

Too casual.

Eliza felt it land anyway.

“How very prudent,” she said, lifting her glass, her tone smooth. “Though I imagine certainty is a rare luxury.”