Winning Miss Wakefield: The Wallflower Wedding Series Read Free Page A

Merribeth asked, “How?”
    A triumphant smile lit Eve’s face, rivaling the light emitted from the wall sconces. “Nothing unpleasant, I assure you. Simply spend a few moments in the company of a rake.”
    Merribeth went still. It certainly wasn’t what she’d expected Eve to say. Then again, since when did Lady Eve Sterling say anything expected?
    Sophie gasped. “I hardly think a seducer of young women is the answer to my niece’s prayers.”
    “Perhaps she isn’t saying the right ones, then.” Eve laughed and then quickly pursed her lips. “Oh Sophie, it isn’t as if I’m suggesting her ruination.”
    Her aunt settled her hands on her hips, her mouth a tight line. “Then what?”
    “Merely a moment. A flirting glance. A whispered conversation. Perhaps even . . . a kiss.” She held up her hand, as if she were giving a reprimand on decorum, not lecturing on the finer points of debauchery.
    “Surely a few more parties and balls, dancing with handsome, respectable gentlemen would work just as well,” Sophie coolly suggested. The only problem was, they weren’t receiving new invitations to parties or balls. By the silence that followed, everyone in the room realized it too—which left only Eve’s option.
    “Kissing a rake will make her feel desirable. Confident. Every woman knows that when she feels a certain way, it shows. Men are drawn to that,” Eve said simply, as if she held an apple in her hands and had asked them both to take a bite, whispering a promise that it wouldn’t hurt anything .
    Against her better judgment, Merribeth found her interest sparked. Was there a way to get Mr. Clairmore back, along with her future and her sense of certainty? While Eve’s plan seemed far-fetched at best, her manner of delivery was persuasive. Eve exuded confidence in all aspects of her life. In turn, men were drawn to her like black threads to white cambric—
    What was she thinking? She couldn’t possibly be considering this. “We’ll be attending your house party by the end of this week. Therefore, I won’t even see Mr. Clairmore in time to make him jealous.” Not to mention, she was more inclined to rail at him for the havoc he’d caused instead of attempting to lure him back.
    “I’ll invite Mr. Clairmore to the ball on the last night of the party and suggest in the invitation that it will be his chance to make amends.” As if the matter were settled with Merribeth, Eve turned to Sophie and pressed her hands together in a gesture of supplication. “If that toad Mr. Clairmore had ever kissed our dear girl with any ounce of fervor, then she wouldn’t be one step away from shriveling up like a grape left unattended on the vine. Just look at her, Soph. Doesn’t she deserve a chance to experience what we both felt when we were younger, however fleeting it was?”
    A shriveled grape, indeed! Merribeth’s lips parted at the insult. She felt as if she were watching Lady Amherst’s play after all. Any moment, the crowd would start to applaud, and the curtain would fall.
    But then, to her surprise, her aunt’s thoughtful gaze darted from Eve to her, as if the comment were a widely accepted fact, and the idea of kissing a rake held merit.
    “It’s the surest way to save her reputation and mend her broken heart,” Eve said, pulling Sophie nearer to her way of thinking. Her aunt’s pale brow furrowed for an instant. Eve offered a small nod, as if an understanding passed between these friends.
    That is enough! It was one thing to refer to her as an aging fruit but quite another to presume to know the inner workings of her heart, broken or otherwise. Lately, she’d been too confused and angry to decide exactly how she felt. At the very least, she should be allowed to decide for herself.
    Merribeth released a frustrated breath that blew the curls from her forehead. “Forgive me for mentioning this, but I’m still in the room.”
    “Gracious!” Eve said with a laugh and snapped open her fan,