Free The Kiss of a Stranger by Sarah M. Eden

appearance.”
    “Crispin.” Lizzie’s smile turned a touch syrupy. “You want her to feel pretty.”
    “I only want her to not be entirely miserable.” And yes, he wanted her to feel confident.
    The doorknob turned and Lizzie, smiling quite unapologetically, moved toward her husband. “You are about to see the most beautiful woman you’ve ever beheld, Crispin,” she said.
    And with that introduction, Hancock stepped across the threshold. Edward burst into laughter, as did Lizzie.
    Crispin’s face split into an all-consuming grin as he chuckled quite uncharacteristically. “Truly a vision, Lizzie. Although not necessarily an improvement.”
    “I think you need to have a talk with that mantua maker,” Edward chortled. “That dress didn’t turn out right at all.”
    Hancock eyed them all quizzically. Looking thoroughly unamused, he stepped back across the threshold and motioned to someone just out of sight behind the doors. Crispin got his laughter under control but couldn’t stop his smile. It felt wonderful to truly laugh. He seldom did.
    Catherine stepped inside in the next second and Crispin gave her a second look. While anything would have been an improvement over the frock her uncle had provided, Crispin could never have envisioned the transformation that had taken place.
    The woman—for she obviously was one—had a figure! Who would have guessed? The color of her dress made her eyes even more astonishing, adding a hint of green to their deep blue. Gone was the severe hairdo. Instead, her hair curled softly around her face. Crispin couldn’t seem to keep himself from staring.
    “Lord Cavratt, I do believe you owe my wife a bonnet,” Edward said, his voice low.
    Lizzie could have any bonnet she wanted. The change he saw in Catherine was well worth the cost of a hat or two.
    “Your carriage is waiting, my lord.” Hancock appeared to fight a smile.
    “Thank you.” Crispin offered Catherine his arm, still astounded by the change in her. “You look beautiful.”
    “I feel beautiful.” She spoke as quietly as ever, but something in her voice had changed. She seemed a little less uncertain.
    He threaded her arm through his and began walking toward the front door. Catherine paused as they passed Hancock.
    “Thank you,” she said to him.
    “My pleasure, my lady.” Hancock bowed. “And might I say, your plan worked splendidly.”
    Catherine nearly smiled. That seemed her way—hints of smiles, but never more. Even the tiny effort added a sparkle to her eyes that he rather enjoyed. But, almost before he’d registered it, the smile faded.
    “Will it be a very large gathering, do you think?” Catherine asked after the foursome had settled inside the carriage and had begun their journey.
    “Relatively.” Crispin’s answer seemed to make her more anxious. She pressed her lips together and tightly clutched her hands. “No need to worry. You’ll do fine. And we’ll all be there with you.”
    She did not seem appeased. Crispin eyed her nervously as he stepped out of the carriage at the Hardfords’ home. Catherine stared like a frightened kitten at the front of the enormous townhouse.
    “First”—Crispin slipped her hand under his arm—“we will be greeted by Lord and Lady Hardford.”
    “The vulture,” Catherine whispered back.
    Crispin smiled. Why was he suddenly so blasted cheerful? They were about to face the scrutiny of society and he’d spent an unusually large portion of the evening laughing and grinning? “I’d rather that conversation not be aired in public,” he replied.
    “Of course not.” She sounded almost flirtatious. An intriguing change.
    “After speaking with our host and hostess, we will proceed to their ballroom.”
    “Dancing?” Catherine barely whispered, her face suddenly panic-stricken.
    “No,” he quickly assured her. “We will take a turn around the room making polite conversation until dinner is announced.”
    He could feel Catherine tremble, no doubt