Free How to Plan a Wedding for a Royal Spy by Vanessa Kelly Page A

skill was on full display tonight.
    Actually Will had a feeling that Evie was doing her best to avoid him.
    He could feel his pleasant expression slipping as he watched Evie take Michael Beaumont’s arm, all but snuggling up to him. Beaumont seemed equally entranced with her, and Will had to give him credit for looking past the self-effacing exterior to the woman within. Evie had been deemed a wallflower years ago, her quiet manner and inability to engage in social inanities sealing her fate. Her insistence on wearing spectacles didn’t help either, although he knew how much she hated having to squint at everything like a dreary old mole, as she’d once called herself.
    Still, it had been something of a shock to see her this afternoon. The spectacles, combined with her drab gown and plain hairstyle, had made her look like a disapproving governess, not the sweet-natured, loving girl he’d grown up with. It seemed as if all the joy of youth had been drained from her. Standing next to Eden—who was still larger than life and full of energy—had made the change all the more apparent.
    But tonight, Evie was more the girl he remembered, younger and prettier in a gown of antique gold that burnished the highlights in her honey-colored hair and softly draped a surprisingly lush figure. Evie and Eden had always been sturdily framed girls, but they’d both grown into what could only be described as magnificent figures. But unlike her twin, whose bosom was on ample display, Evie made little effort to capitalize on her physical charms.
    Not that Michael Beaumont apparently needed any additional encouragements. In fact, he gazed at Evie with a smile so fatuous it made Will clench his teeth.
    The light tap of a fan on his arm recalled him to his surroundings. He blinked as he took in Lady Reese’s arched, haughty eyebrows and the expectant expressions of Lord and Lady Portmire, an elderly couple he’d met only a few minutes ago.
    â€œWell, William, what do you think of Lord Portmire’s suggestion?” Lady Reese asked with a touch of asperity. “Do you think his lordship, the Duke of Wellington, would agree?”
    Good God. He’d completely lost the thread of the conversation. Will rarely had difficulty taking part in conversations while keeping his eye on a target—it was elementary spycraft—but Evie was throwing him off his game.
    Either that or he’d forgotten how truly boring conversation at an English house party could be.
    â€œAh, as to that, Lord Portmire,” he started to hedge, “I think—”
    A strong hand landed on his shoulder. “Ah, there you be, laddie. Lord Reese and Lord Quarterman are wantin’ to talk to you about something verrry particular, so ye’d better come along with me,” Alec said in a hearty and entirely inconsistent brogue.
    From the sour look on Lady Reese’s face, she thought that keeping the host waiting was preferable to interrupting the hostess. But since Alec was the wealthy grandson of an earl, she finally managed to rearrange her elegant features in a stiff smile.
    â€œOf course, Captain Gilbride, you and William mustn’t keep my husband waiting. But before you dash off, let me introduce you to Lord and Lady Portmire.”
    Will had to hold back a groan when his cousin planted a flourishing kiss on the back of Lady Portmire’s hand and paid her an extravagant compliment. Apparently, elderly ladies were no more immune to Alec’s charm than the average deb or Spanish innkeeper’s daughter.
    â€œOh, Captain Gilbride,” Lady Portmire trilled, “you do look so dashing in your Scottish regimentals. And I love that, that . . .”
    When she waggled a finger in the direction of Alec’s groin, Will swore he could hear Lady Reese’s molars grinding together.
    â€œSporran, my lady,” Alec answered, giving the old woman a roguish wink.
    Lady Portmire let out a surprisingly