Free A Gentleman Never Tells by Eloisa James Page B

in the woods, where she was seized by rebels, of course !”
    â€œI could be Eveline,” Lizzie said, rather startled. “I’m a ‘widowed wife.’ ”
    â€œAnd a ‘married maid’,” Cat added.
    Lizzie shrugged and looked down at her book. “I’ve been betrothed and betrayed, but I haven’t been a betrayer.”
    â€œYou should have,” Cat said darkly. “You should have had a flagrant affaire that everyone knew about. You should have given birth to a son who would have inherited Adrian’s estate, and he would have known that it wasn’t his and there would have been nothing he could do about it!”
    â€œIt’s too late for that.”
    â€œTrue. I do wish you’d been at luncheon, Lizzie. I’m becoming fast friends with Oliver Berwick. He’s frightfully passionate about steam engines and I think he talked my husband into investing in a railway, which would be a good thing since this house takes a ferocious amount of money to keep up. Something is always falling apart.”
    â€œPerhaps if you didn’t play croquet in the house, it wouldn’t need so many repairs,” Lizzie suggested.
    â€œWe have bigger problems, like the roof. Wear that pale yellow gown with that wonderful black and yellow sash tonight.”
    â€œIt makes me feel like a French bumblebee,” Lizzie said.
    â€œIt makes you look divine,” Cat said. “Only the French would figure out how to make a woman’s waist look so tiny. I love the way the hem is weighted to make it swirl at the bottom. It’s just the thing for leaning over and hitting a croquet ball.”
    â€œHave you changed your mind about matchmaking and Mr. Berwick?” Lizzie asked suspiciously.
    â€œAbsolutely not,” Cat said. “You’d never get along. He’s far too clever for comfort.”
    Too clever? What man was too clever?
    In Lizzie’s experience, men did a reliable job of pretending to be clever, but it generally fell apart because they were such emotional creatures.
    Take their father, for example. He was always trying to calculate odds, but in the end, he just bumbled along like anyone else.
    Suddenly she remembered a day when he had brought her to see a whole pen full of baby lambs. She had squealed and shrieked with excitement—­she couldn’t have been more than six—­and he let her climb into the pen and pet them for a long time, even though they lipped her hair and her bootlaces.
    Her father hadn’t always been focused on turning her into Lady Troutt. Not back then, when she was his Lizzie, and he was only her Papa.

 
    Chapter Ten
    O LIVER WAS RATHER annoyed when Lizzie didn’t appear for breakfast and lunch. She didn’t eat enough, and avoiding meals wasn’t a good idea. He’d had enough trays brought to his bedchamber to know that the cook would have sent up a finicky plate with barely enough food for an invalid.
    He was falling short as a knight errant. He only had one more day to get her on a horse, not to mention in a fit of hilarity. Thinking about that, he walked into the drawing room and found it empty but for Sarah and his niece.
    Hattie bounded to her feet, dragging Sarah with her. “Here’s my best-­of-­uncles,” she cried. “Please, may we go fishing again tomorrow?”
    â€œPerhaps,” Oliver said vaguely. If Lizzie didn’t come to dinner, he might have to take matters into his own hands and root her out of her bedchamber. He had a shrewd idea he’d moved too quickly the night before.
    No woman wants a man she’s just met to drop to his knees. She wants to be wooed.
    â€œI enjoyed fishing very much, Mr. Berwick,” Sarah said, dropping a shy curtsy. She’d probably do very well in her debut; she was sweet, quite pretty, and exquisitely dressed, which hinted at a substantial dowry.
    Then he frowned. His niece was equally well