Page 38 of The Earl’s Marriage of Convenience

Where her cousins who raised her were indeed family, there had never been this lightness—this easy, unguarded companionship she had found here.

Would Langshire approve of her maintaining such a connection?

Perhaps, one day, she might even tell him the truth of her relationship to Hawthorne.

But that was far off.

She would not allow herself to dwell there—not when he had not yet proposed.

Eliza watched as Pere took her seat.

“May I pour you some tea?”

“Yes, please,” Pere replied with a grateful smile.

Eliza obliged, then settled back into her chair. “So—what are the plans for the day?” she asked. “I assume we are to receive callers this afternoon?”

Pere gave her a knowing, slightly mischievous smile over the rim of her teacup. “You would assume correctly.”

Eliza returned the look with a faint smile. “Though I must confess, I am hoping one gentleman in particular seeks a private audience.”

Pere set down her cup. “I am quite surprised he has not already done so. There must be a reason. But do not fret—this is all moving rather quickly, and he may simply wish to ensure he does not overstep.”

Eliza gave a soft, almost wry laugh. “How considerate of him—when, from my perspective, he could not proceed quickly enough.”

Pere’s eyes sparkled. “Men do have a remarkable way of complicating matters that are, in truth, quite simple.”

“I could not agree more,” Eliza said, lifting her teacup in mock salute.

“If they would only listen to us,” Pere added, “their lives would be infinitely easier.”

“And I believe I have arrived at precisely the right moment to contribute to this discussion.”

Hawthorne’s voice carried in as he entered, bending to press a kiss to the top of his wife’s head. “Good morning, Eliza. How did you sleep?”

Eliza glanced toward her brother and offered a small smile. “Not as well as you, I suspect.”

“Perhaps,” he said lightly. “Though even at this early hour, I bring news. We received an invitation yesterday which I neglected to mention.”

“Oh?” Pere asked, taking another sip of tea.

“Yes,” Hawthorne replied. “A rather small and exclusive card party. Lady Rosewood has invited us to play faro with a select few.”

Eliza straightened slightly. “Do you think Lord Langshire will attend?”

Hawthorne nodded as he helped himself to breakfast. “I believe it highly likely.”

“Very good,” Eliza said, unable to keep the note of satisfaction from her voice.

A smaller gathering would suit her far better. It would afford her the opportunity for longer conversation—for something more deliberate.

It could only serve her purpose.

“I see this pleases you,” Gabriel remarked, settling into his seat beside Pere.

“It does,” Eliza admitted. “At this point, I will accept any encouragement.” She hesitated, then leaned forward slightly, choosing her words with care. “May I ask—why do I feel he hesitates in advancing our … understanding?”

Hawthorne chuckled softly. “Impatient?”