Read Online How to Lose a Bride in One Night by Sophie Jordan - Free Book Online Page B

to carry the conversation alone.
    He slid her a look beneath his lashes as he spread out the final corners. “You need to eat.”
    She propped an elbow on the edge of the cart, her lips quirking. “Don’t fret, Mr. Crawford. I wasn’t accusing you of being thoughtful. I would not dream of making such a suggestion.”
    He sent her a derisive look but didn’t respond as he reached for the food and carafe and settled them on the blanket.
    “I mean I realize you’re thoughtful and generous enough to save my life, of course,” she hastily explained. “I would never be so remiss to forget such a fact, but you’re just not . . .” Her voice faded as she stared at his stoic profile rather helplessly. “You’re not the garrulous sort, are you? Certainly no—” Her voice cut off into a squeak as he leaned over the cart and slid his arms beneath her.
    He carefully lifted her from the cart, bearing her with ease. His body was all lean lines against her, his chest a hard wall. Her gaze crawled back up to his face. She blinked in consternation at his ever aloof expression.
    “Who can talk with you around?” he murmured.
    She gasped as he set her down in the middle of the blanket, then arranged her skirts over her legs. She wore no shoe on the broken leg. A thick woolen stocking covered the foot, peeking out from beneath her hem.
    “Are you saying I don’t give you the opportunity to speak?” She lifted her chin and crossed her arms. “Very well. I shall leave it to you to carry on the conversation. I will follow your lead, Mr. Crawford.”
    Without comment, he unwrapped a meat pie and handed it to her. She watched as he did the same for himself. He took a large bite, indifferent that she watched him. Indifferent to the stretch of silence.
    She took a nibbling bite, the quiet hovering between them. Even the sounds of the fair were too distant to hear anymore. She glanced from him to her meat pastie several times, waiting, expecting for him to say something . Nothing profound. Simply . . . something. She accepted the lemonade when he offered it, savoring the cool tartness on her tongue.
    After several more minutes of silence, she dropped the pastie back into the wrapper. “This is just silly.”
    He smiled slowly and something unfurled in her stomach at the sight of that smile. Triumphant as it was, there was a hint of the devil to it that made her pulse quicken.
    “Oh, and now you think you’ve won?” Annoyance swam hotly through her blood—perhaps mostly at herself for breaking down and talking first.
    His shrug only irritated her further.
    “After we finish lunch, will you return me to the fair?”
    His smile faded and she knew that had not been his intention.
    “I was enjoying myself,” she added, as if that would somehow make a difference to him.
    “This is the first time you’ve been out of bed since you woke,” he said. “You don’t want to overtax yourself.”
    “I’ve either been carried or in a cart. I’m hardly overtaxing myself.” At the arch of his eyebrow, she snapped, “I don’t require your permission, you know.”
    He nodded to the cart. “Unless you plan to snap your fingers and make the cart move, you actually do.”
    “You’re not the only one capable of pushing a cart.”
    “No one else is at the camp. Who will you prevail upon? I doubt Mirela and the others will return before evening.”
    She beat a fist against her lap. “You are cruel. If you don’t want to escort me, I don’t know why you won’t permit Luca—”
    “Has it occurred to you that you’re keeping him from work? They depend on their efforts at fairs like this to keep them clothed and fed. It’s rather inconsiderate to monopolize Luca.”
    At this, her shoulders slumped with deflation. She hadn’t considered she was somehow taking advantage of Mirela’s hospitality. “I see. I did not realize . . .” She wrapped her pastie back up in the paper. “I’m ready.”
    “You haven’t finished