Read Online It Takes Two to Tangle by Theresa Romain - Free Book Online

“But the letter—”
    â€œIn truth,” Henry broke in, left hand gripping the arm of the chair, “I’d rather lost confidence after the call at her house. The letter was just what I needed, at just the right time.”
    â€œA letter from Caroline was just what you needed?” She was ransacking the conversation now, looking for some small shard of hope that she’d misunderstood.
    He nodded, and his expression softened. “She has a gift for kindness without pity.”
    Frances sank against the back of her gold-velvet chair. Shushhhhh went the dress.
    Yes, what else could she do but shush ? If she told him the truth—that she was the one who had reached out to him—she didn’t know whose embarrassment would be greater: hers or his.
    Probably hers. And she had too much pride to watch his delight turn disappointed. If he needed a letter from Caroline so badly, it was better to let him think he’d gotten one.
    She swallowed that pride, the thwarted hope, the flush of humiliation. It was a lot to choke down all at once, and it caught in her throat. She coughed, cleared her throat, and took several seconds to reply again. “I’m glad you liked the letter.”
    That, at least, was true. There was no need to lie to him at all. His own enthusiasm set the tone of the conversation, and all she need do was play along.
    She slipped on her companion’s mask, capable and cheerful. “So, you want to write her a letter. Or rather—oh, blast, your right arm. Do you want me to write the letter for you?”
    He looked a little taken aback. “No, indeed. I must maintain some pride. I might ask for secret insights and hints about gifts, and I might inflict my first name on you, but I would never ask you to write a letter of courtship for me.” That rueful grin again. He was more at ease with it than other men were in all their puffery.
    â€œOf course not.” Frances returned his wry tone. “I beg your pardon. I’d quite forgot the rules of assisted courtship.” Her nervous hands smoothed her bronze-green skirt again. Shhhhhhh .
    Henry’s eyes flicked over the garment. “That’s an excellent color on you, if you don’t mind my saying so. It’s the precise shade of your eyes.”
    There was no need for Frances to feel a squirm of warmth again. Certainly no need for it to shoot through her body from scalp to toes. It was, after all, merely an observation from an artist, who could be expected to notice color. “Thank you. It’s Caroline’s. She insisted it would be acceptable with my complexion.”
    There was no way she was going to repeat the word ravishing to Henry. Not when his face had just softened a little, as though he had only required this evidence of Caroline’s thoughtfulness to fall completely in her thrall.
    â€œSo.” Frances spoke up before he could begin rhapsodizing about Caroline. “If you don’t want me to write your letter, why have you summoned me?”
    He drew himself up straighter, and his withered arm sank into the cradle of his left. “My handwriting is atrocious. Infernal, really. I hoped you could help me assemble an acceptable reply with a minimum of misshapen words.”
    He cleared his throat, shrugged, and looked faintly mortified. “You were right about not bringing roses, after all. So I thought you’d know what to—ah, now that I’ve said this aloud, it sounds rather… well. You know, maybe we’d better forget the whole thing.”
    â€œNo, indeed.” Perhaps it was unworthy of her to want him to fidget a little. “I understand you perfectly. You want me to write you a love letter to Caroline, and then you’ll transcribe it. And it must be very short.”
    She put a hand on her chest and intoned dramatically, “‘ Bed me, my sweet. ’ There, we’re done. Shall I ring for tea?”
    Henry’s lips