Free Three Weddings and a Murder by Courtney Milan, Tessa Dare, Carey Baldwin, Leigh LaValle

tell me the truth in Norfolk?” she whispered. “You let me believe… You let everyone believe your bad influence was to blame for his misfortunes.”
    “I am a bad influence.” He winked at her. “Never doubt it.”
    Her blood heated, proving his point.
    “You are a wicked man indeed. I wouldn’t have pressed for a romance between him and Philippa, had I known. You could have spared me a great deal of embarrassment by simply telling me the truth.”
    “Embarrassment is a frightfully constant quantity. If I’d spared you a measure of embarrassment, I would have been forced to heap some at Brentley’s door.”
    “And you valued his friendship over mine, of course.”
    “No.”
    His response surprised her.
    “No, that’s not it.” He gave her a thoughtful glance. “I knew yours to be the more resilient spirit. Just as you knew yourself to be stronger than that would-be-groper, Timothy. Even at fourteen, you could bear the censure better than he.”
    Eliza didn’t feel strong right now. She felt frail and flawed and in need of a hug.
    “Can we talk and eat?” he said, tilting his head toward the drawing room, where a buffet was laid. “Allow me to make you a plate.”
    “I…” As they moved toward the table laden with made dishes and pyramids of fruit, Eliza felt her moment of opportunity slipping away. She screwed up her courage and made the apology. “I was wrong about you, Mr. Wright. I abused you most unjustly.”
    “I enjoyed every minute of it.”
    Eliza shook her head. Why could he be a decent, honorable man to others, but never to her? She felt cheated.
    “Smile,” he teased as they moved down the buffet. “Were you expecting me to repay your touching apologies? Admit that I treated you poorly, too? I won’t. For I enjoyed our sparring in Norfolk immensely, and so did you.” He speared a lobster patty and put it on her plate. “You like these, as I recall.”
    She did like lobster patties. But she didn’t like him presuming.
    “Why must you always pretend to know everything about me?” she asked.
    “I don’t pretend to know. I do know. Because we’re so much the same.” He lowered his voice, cognizant of the guests milling about. “We’re neither of us the selfish creatures we once made each other out to be. But we’re neither of us saints. Once, I told a shameless lie with selfless motives. Once, so did you. Who knows if we’d do the same again? We’re just as likely to commit good acts with bad intentions. We’re interesting that way.”
    Without asking, he plunged a wide-bowled spoon into a dish of strawberry-studded custard and ladled it onto her plate.
    When she accused him with a glance, he pulled an innocent face. “Don’t pretend you didn’t want any. You were looking at it. Yearning for it.”
    “Yearning?”
    “You even wet your lips.”
    “I did not.”
    He leaned close and murmured, “I make quite a study of your lips, Eliza. I notice these things.”
    “Oh, you…” Her cheeks flushed as she followed him away from the buffet. “You make it so difficult to like you.”
    “On the contrary. People find it easy to like me. They find it difficult to love me.” He turned to her then, and his eyes were startling in their intensity. “Which is it you’re trying to do?”
    A thrill chased down her neck. At last, she had a moment’s advantage. A thin veil of feminine mystery, after years of feeling transparent under his knowing gaze.
    She said, “You have to ask? And here I thought you knew all about me.”
    “I have my suspicions.”
    “Suspicions?” She gave him a coy look. “It’s a funny thing about suspicions, Mr. Wright. All too often, they’re just vain hopes in disguise.”
    His gaze sparked and warmed. And it was the oddest thing, but she knew his smile was coming—even before his lips gave the slightest hint.
    “What?” she asked, disappointed. “That was a brilliant comeback. Have you no reply?”
    “Only that I’ve been waiting for