Skeptic in a Skirt by Cate Lawley

Author:Cate Lawley [Lawley, Cate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Contemporary, Paranormal, General, Romantic Comedy
Google: cZrFDwAAQBAJ
Amazon: B07WFB2KD1
Publisher: Cate Lawley
Published: 2019-12-06T23:00:00+00:00

15

Beth

A gentle swaying motion rocked me, and through a sleepy haze I thanked the stars and my mom—whose iron stomach I’d inherited—for my immunity to motion sickness.

Combine my swaying, creaking environment with the rhythmic sound of hooves on cobblestones, and on some level of consciousness I registered I was riding in a carriage.

It was surprisingly pleasant right up until the vehicle jarred my bones so hard that I thought I’d lose a tooth.

A startled sound escaped my mouth at about the same time I realized I was sitting in a small, confined space across from the man I’d been falling topsy-turvy in crush with. Maybe more than in crush, but I couldn’t really consider that possibility with him within arm’s reach in an enclosed carriage. I preferred not to lose the power of speech.

Except…

I thought I’d never see him again, and he was right here.

I let loose a breath I was pretty sure I’d been holding for thirteen days.

“Beth.” Edward’s wary gaze met mine. “Good afternoon.”

Right. My last two visits had been less than stellar. Although at least he didn’t see me the last time. Wouldn’t that have been mortifying? Having an actual panic attack witnessed by my possible one true love.

Uh-huh, I was totally on board with Madeleine’s One True Love pitch. Romantic me was, anyway. Practical me wanted to believe, but she was waiting for more evidence.

“Have circumstances changed such that you’re no longer able to converse while in my time? I worried, after your last visit, that this might be true.”

Oops. Yeah, he’d definitely seen me. Two visits gone bad, one with me stuttering and one with me panic-attacking in the corner.

Humiliating? Yes.

Speech-inhibiting and panic-inducing? Umm…

Another breath escaped and the tension in my shoulders eased, because no. I was not currently having a panic attack. And if I wasn’t losing my marbles, then I could likely speak. And the poor man was starting to look really stressed out by my continued silence.

“Beth?”

I met his gaze and made my lips move. “I’m fine.” And with those words safely out in the open, I realized I really was. “I don’t always know the right thing to say, and so I…”

“Don’t speak?” He reached for my hand and kissed it.

The man kissed my hand. If I were standing, I might have taken a cue from the too-tight corset-wearing women of the Victorian age and swooned, because Edward Stanbury kissing my hand was downright swoon-worthy.

Slightly breathless for reasons other than anxiety, I said, “It’s silly, I know.”

“No.” He squeezed my fingers. He could do that because he hadn’t let go of my hand yet. Did I mention sworn-worthy? That was my man.

Ohmigod. And now I was talking like he was mine, and I was going to keep him. Like I could keep him. As if he didn’t live in 1899—another freaking time, for crying out loud.

I was back to losing my marbles again, just walking down the delusional path instead of the anxiety-laden one.

In my defense, the carriage was small, Edward was holding my hand, and he smelled divine.

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