Page 9 of Hers By Summer’s End

Now, his puffed-up ear might have taken one blow too many over the years, but it still worked well enough to catch the note of calculation tucked beneath the sweetness.

“Cecelia Townsend...” He rocked back on his heels and narrowed his eyes. “Did you just guilt me into agreeing to whatever it is you want?”

“Sure did,” she said, the wind whistling through the gap in her teeth.

Wily woman.

“Well, go on, then. Let me have it.”

She gave up all pretense and faced him directly. “We play into the gossip.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“You don't get to start a spectacle and then wander off to your own engagements while I endure the commentary,” she continued, her gaze daring him to defy her. “The only way I’m continuing this farce is if we do it together.”

More time with her? A dangerous suggestion. She had no idea what an evening in her company could do to a fellow already hanging by a thread. But was he willing to give up even a single moment at her side? Hell no.

“It’s a deal.”

“Good.” Triumph glowed in her smile. “Now, did you receive an invitation to a garden party this Saturday at the Edgewoods’?”

“I did, oddly enough. And a slew of others from people I wouldn’t have thought knew I existed.”

“That’s what happens when you start the scandal of the summer—everyone is eager to play host to the next scene. Case in point: I also received an invitation to the garden party.” She leaned in so close he could see the flecks of green in her eyes. “You raised the stakes, Drew. You made us a pair. Now you have to behave like one.”

From her smug smile, he gathered she meant this to be punishment for his sins. But an afternoon spent in Cecelia’s company? As her escort? That was no punishment. Hell, it just might be his dream come true.

“Sounds awful,” he remembered to say.

“Doesn’t it?” she said cheerfully.

She clearly wanted his reluctance. He would give it to her. “And if I decline?

She smiled, baring her teeth. “Then I’ll burn down your greenhouse.”

“Guess I’d better go buy a new suit.”

“Wear whatever you like.”

Oh? That sounded suspiciously like a challenge. She'd seen him muddy, bruised, and dressed for flower shows. She'd never seen him dressed to impress. A slow grin spread across his face. If Cecelia Townsend wanted a spectacle…well.

He knew how to put on a show.

CHAPTER THREE

Capitol Hill,

Jul 28, 1909.

Dearest Moosh,

Please say you’re attending Mrs. Edgewood’s garden party. I ran into her sister while shopping at Carlisle’s for that blue straw toque trimmed with velvet ribbon we saw in the advertisement, and she assured me that both Miss Townsend and Mr. Sutton will be attending. I do so hope something scandalous happens! All the garden parties thus far this summer have been so dull, wouldn’t you say? But Mrs. Edgewood is rather fond of party games…oh, I can hardly wait until Saturday!

As ever your dear friend,

Minzy.

July 31, 1909