Page 81 of The Earl’s Marriage of Convenience

Hawthorne regarded him for a long moment. “When did you become philosophical?” he muttered. “I thought we were meant to be repairing your reputation.”

“We are,” Edwin replied easily, clapping him on the shoulder as he moved past him toward the parlor.

And then—he saw her.

Eliza sat upon the sofa, composed and poised, every inch the picture of quiet elegance.

Before he quite realized what he was doing, his gaze had already traveled—taking in the line of her posture, the fall of her gown, the way her expression shifted when she smiled.

He should not have lingered in watching her, yet he did.

“There is my partner in crime,” she said, as though she had not noticed his entrance until that very moment.

“Your one and only,” he replied, returning her smile.

“If I did not know better,” Pere said with a knowing grin, “I might think you actually liked one another.”

“Ah, there is a flaw in your reasoning, dear sister,” Edwin said lightly, ruffling her hair as he passed. “We do like one another.”

He took a seat opposite them. “In fact, I might go so far as to say I prefer her company to yours.”

“I should be offended,” Pere said, glancing at Eliza. “And yet—I find I am not.”

Eliza turned toward him. “You are not so intolerable yourself,” she said. “Though I believe I might still prefer Pere’s company—at least on occasion.” She laughed softly.

Edwin pressed a hand to his chest in mock injury.

“Oh, spare us,” Henley said as he entered, escorting his wife. “If this is to be the tone of your marriage? We shall all suffer for it.”

“You are the most dramatic among us,” Edwin replied.

“It is deeply unfortunate that I have missed so much,” Anna said as she settled into her seat. “Once this child arrives, I intend to attend every event. I shall not be excluded again.”

“Consider it promised,” Henley said indulgently.

When dinner was announced, Edwin rose and offered Eliza his arm.

It struck him, briefly, how naturally the arrangement fell into place—how easily they paired, how seamlessly they moved among the others. There was a quiet sense of rightness in it. He chose not to examine that too closely.

“I had an interesting visitor this afternoon,” Edwin said as he led her into the dining room.

Eliza’s brows lifted. “Oh?”

“Lord Humford.”

Her expression sharpened at once. “And how did that proceed?”

“As well as could be expected,” he replied, drawing out her chair. “He was concerned—understandably. I was able to reassure him. And, more importantly, to provide him with a version of events he will no doubt repeat.” As he spoke, his gaze flicked—briefly—to her lips.

Just for a moment.

And then back to her eyes.

Her own gaze dropped—quickly, almost unconsciously—to his mouth before lifting again.

So brief it might have been missed.

But it was not.