Page 3 of The Earl’s Marriage of Convenience

“Me either.” Pere reached up and tugged on her husband’s cravat. “When the music starts, you’re all mine.”

“Is that the only time?”

“No, I’m just willing to give you a break to get your sister a glass of lemonade before I monopolize your time.” Pere spoke lowly, as if expecting only her husband to hear.

“Still present,” Henley added.

Pere’s eyes shot to him. “Now you know how it feels. I remember saying the very same thing to you, on multiple occasions. I have no pity for you.”

“I honestly didn’t expect your pity, just a little more … discretion,” Henley all but muttered.

At this, Hawthorne chuckled, lifted his wife’s hand, and kissed her wrist, lingering far too long to be proper, and then slowly released her hand. “I’ll fetch that lemonade so I’m at your disposal when the music starts, dear wife.”

Pere nodded once, her lip pulled up between her teeth.

“Dear Lord, make it stop,” Edwin whispered under his breath.

“I think it’s sweet, far too little of this exists.” Lady Eliza’s voice interrupted Edwin’s thoughts, and he turned to her as Hawthorne made his way toward the refreshment table.

“Oh?” Edwin faced her and waited for her to continue.

He studied her, searching her face for a resemblance to her cousin, rather her half brother, but that was the private story, not the public one. Edwin only hoped it remained the private story. It had the ability to bring them all down if word got around. As he studied her, he saw the resemblance in the hue of her coffee-colored hair, and in the angle of her chin, only softer, more inviting. Her brows pinched slightly, then a hint of a smile teased her lips.

“Ah, the family resemblance. You’re looking for it, am I correct? I assure you, it’s present enough.” She gave a delicate shrug, but there was a hint of uncertainty in the way she cast her expression to the floor for just a moment, enough for there to be a break in carefully crafted confidences.

“Don’t do that,” Edwin whispered; before he even thought the words, they were out in the wild.

She glanced to him and blinked, confusion flickering across her expressive eyes.

He inwardly cursed himself for speaking up, but he needed to now explain himself. Just when had he developed a sense of honor and duty?

He soldiered on. “Don’t … don’t look down, it makes you appear unsure of yourself and in this environ, that is dangerous. Even if you must pretend the confidence, do it. Don’t give them any reason to … question anything.” Edwin glanced around them, noting the way Henley was watching over his champagne glass, curious but not intervening.

Damn, he was certain the brother would have questions about it later.

He’d have questions if the roles were reversed.

“I see.” Lady Eliza’s tone was steady, as if she had already taken his advice to heart and was implementing it.

He turned back to her and nodded, then took a step back, giving additional distance between them. “Very good.”

She gave a quick nod and then glanced over her shoulder as her brother approached with the lemonade he’d been sent to procure.

“Thank you.” Lady Eliza took a small sip, her brows pinching in a wince.

“You’ll get used to it,” Pere chimed in and wrapped her arm around her husband’s. “It’s dreadful but not nearly as sour as Almack’s.”

Eliza arched a brow.

“You’ll find out.” Pere patted her hand and then turned to Henley. “And where is my favorite sister-in-law?”

“Your only sister-in-law, might I add, is resting at home, as one does when late in their confinement.” Henley continued to sip his champagne.

Edwin wondered, absently, if perhaps his brother merely pretended to sip the champagne, simply to keep from being drawn too into the conversation.

He couldn’t blame him.

It was bloody brilliant, and he searched for a footman to procure his own glass. Never did he think he’d be taking notes from his little brother’s playbook.