Entranced by the Earl by Eaton Jillian

Author:Eaton, Jillian
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Historical, Romance
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2021-03-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Evie felt horribly guilty. Or she had felt horribly guilty, until Weston had absolved her of all remorse regarding her deceitful plan to marry him by uttering four hurtful words she wasn’t soon to forget.

My lapses in judgment.

That’s all that kissing her meant to him, apparently.

A lapse in judgment.

A miscalculation.

A mistake.

And to think, she’d been on the brink of telling him that she had come to Hawkridge Manor with ulterior motives in mind. That she did want the ring, and his fortune, and his title, besides. That she did deserve some of the blame he’d just absolved her of.

The admission had danced on the tip of her tongue for the entirety of their conversation…right up until he’d compared her to a fifth cousin.

A cousin.

She wasn’t his cousin, thrice removed or otherwise. There was no blood shared between them. But there was passion. At least, she’d thought there was. Until he had informed her that she was no more than a lapse in judgment.

The bounder.

She was of half a mind to gather her things and leave. But that would be tantamount to admitting defeat…which was something Thorncrofts simply did not do. It wasn’t in her to give up, and thus she would keep going forward. All the way to the altar. Because she hadn’t come this far, and gone through this much, to not become a countess.

The foyer was a bustling hive of activity as footmen and scullery maids alike rushed about, hurrying to complete finishing touches before the first wave of guests descended upon the estate. They filled vases with flowers and glass dishes with colorful candies. Rubbed a final layer of beeswax on any exposed wood to bring out its natural luster, and took care to polish each doorknob until it shone. The drapes were pinned back. Rugs were unrolled. Paintings were hung on the white walls with care and large potted ferns were given a fresh layer of topsoil before being strategically positioned to bring some color into the manor.

From the front drawing room came the random plinking of keys as the piano was tuned, and in the parlor the loud pop of a cork as sparkling wine was poured into glass flutes arranged on a long table.

Keeping her head down, Evie was able to slip unnoticed up the stairs and into her bedchamber.

She’d been looking forward to the receiving dinner with all the giddy delight of a child on Christmas morning, but her interlude with the earl had dampened her spirits.

Not the kissing part.

She’d thoroughly enjoyed the kissing part…even if she was mortified by her reaction. She had been so caught up in Weston’s embrace that when he had pulled away without warning, the abruptness of his rejection had made her eyes well with tears.

He had kissed her, and she had cried, and then he’d called her his cousin.

Clearly, her plan needed a few modifications.

Slipping out of her shawl and kicking off her shoes, Evie flopped belly first onto the bed and buried her face in a pillow.

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