Free Once Upon A Wedding Night by Sophie Jordan

suffered the laughter in his eyes and immediately recognized that he knew Edmund. Probably better than she ever did. Which was not saying much. Edmund's tailor probably knew him better than she had. The only thing Meredith knew about her late husband was that he had wanted nothing to do with her. Had found her so distasteful that he could not bear consummating their marriage.
    Despite her desire to remove the smirk from his face, she could not refute his mocking question. She shot another glance at her father, unsure whether to leave him alone with Nick. Her father, however, appeared blessedly oblivious to their conversation. A good thing. He would have been appalled to know he sat beside a pagan.
    Meredith moved from the table in a dignified swish of skirts. "Excuse me, my lord. I don't want to be late for the service." In the threshold, she paused to add, "The vicar dines with us tonight. Perhaps you can engage him in a discussion on the lack of charity among his parishioners." With the barest smile tugging her lips, she exited.
    ***
    Nick stared broodingly at the door where Meredith disappeared, feeling like an utter ass for needling her. It never seemed to fail. Minutes into a conversation, and she provoked him. He stabbed at a bit of egg, cursing under his breath. It had been a long time since he found himself in the company of a genuine lady. Perhaps he could blame his breach on not recalling how to behave.
    But it was more than that. He found it diverting to bait her. So diverting that the room felt empty without her animated presence. It was as if all life and energy had been sucked out with her departure. The sudden, loud slurping of Meredith's father drew his attention, reminding him that he wasn't alone. Nick shook his head, a wry smile twisting his lips at the prolonged noise. The old man set his cup on its saucer with an unsteady hand and resumed his absent stare out the window.
    The full loss of Meredith's company settled like a heavy weight on Nick's chest. For the first time in years, he yearned for the company of someone else. Strange that it happened to be Edmund's widow. A woman he should dislike on principle alone.

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Chapter 7

     
    "I don't know why you are so upset, dearest," Aunt Eleanor pouted.
    Meredith sighed and tried to explain her disappointment once again. "I simply wish you would have consulted me before inviting half the neighborhood to dinner."
    "You exaggerate. Mr. Browne, Sir Hiram, and the Stubblefields hardly constitute half the neighborhood."
    "Felicia Stubblefield is the biggest gossip around. Inviting her is inviting the entire neighborhood. And you know Sir Hiram makes my skin crawl."
    "What else was I to do? They know the new earl is here, and the vicar was already coming to dine. I couldn't very well exclude them, not when Felicia angled for an invitation."
    Meredith took hold of her aunt's elbow, stalling her outside the drawing room where their guests waited. "Did it occur to you that perhaps Lord Brookshire does not want the neighborhood raining down upon his head?
That I do not
? Especially as his presence here is only temporary." She hissed this last bit.
    Aunt Eleanor's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, dear," she whispered woefully, and turned to stare at the drawing room door as if a snake lurked within instead of the guests she had invited. "I had not considered that."
    How their circumstances could ever be far from her aunt's mind when it consumed hers at nearly every moment was unfathomable to Meredith. Her deception marred the horizon like a perpetual cloud, at times worrying her so much that she hesitated to go about her day, afraid that someone might run up to her at any moment pointing and shouting, "Liar, liar!"
    "I realize that, Aunt." Meredith gave her aunt's shoulder a comforting pat, helpless against the long-ingrained need to console her. "Don't fret. We shall manage."
    Drawing a deep breath, she strove for an air of optimism. Some good might come of her aunt's