The Problem With Pretending Read Online Emma Hart

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 126850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
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He sat on the edge of the bed, phone in one hand, charger cable in the other, and raised his eyebrows at me. “Are you serious?”

“I’m not an impulsive person,” I said slowly, still a human burrito in my quilt. “I’m pretty sure she thinks you’re either a serial killer or a manipulator to convince me to come with you.”

“That’s not entirely unreasonable.” He plugged his phone in and set it on the bedside table, then got into the bed. The only light was from the weak bulb in the lamp on his side, and the way the shadows played over his face when we looked at each other reminded me of the watchtower.

And how badly I’d wanted to tilt my chin up and kiss him.

I swallowed and reached out for my phone. “I should probably let her know I’m still alive before she calls the police. I haven’t spoken to her today.”

“Good thinking. I’ll check in with a few friends and see if they’re able to make the wedding or not.”

Panic bubbled in my lower stomach.

Friends.

Of course he’d have friends here.

William and Freya weren’t that far apart in age, and it stood to reason that some of his friends would also be present at the wedding.

Double bollocks.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – WILLIAM

A Series of Unfortunate Events

“Oh, no,” Grace groaned, tapping away on her phone. “I bet they’re all aristocrats, aren’t they?”

I turned my head to look at her, a smile toying with my lips. “What do you have against the upper class?”

“Everything,” she replied brightly, meeting my eyes with a grin stretching across her face. “Go on, then. Who are you texting?”

“What, so you can regale me with their family histories? Perhaps some trivia?” I was only teasing her, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen.

“Perhaps. I am quite well-versed in the history of the aristocracy, after all.”

“All right. Well, I just texted Hugo, he’s the future Duke of Devon,” I said.

“Ooh, Cavendish House. That’s pretty.”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Impressive.”

“Keep going.”

“I’m not going to make it that easy for you.” I sent another text. “All right, that one was to Alexander Winthrop-Bentley.”

A tiny frown etched into her forehead. “The Duke of Worcester?”

“Bugger, I thought I had you there.”

“You’ll have to do better than that.”

“Okay. This one is to… Fred.”

“Fred? That’s a bit vague.”

“You told me to do better than that, so there it is.”

“That’s absolutely nothing to go off.” She rolled onto her side to face me and propped herself up on her elbow. “How am I supposed to know who he is or where he lives just off of ‘Fred?’ It’s hardly a unique name.”

“Okay, Frederick.”

“Oh, give over.”

“Not a dukedom in the family,” I said vaguely. “But still well-known.”

Grace looked down at the covers, frowning. “Fred…” she whispered to herself. “Is that… No. Coventry?”

I blinked at her. “How the fuck did you get that?”

“Coventry isn’t a dukedom.” Her eyes glittered with amusement. “The Earl’s son is Fred, and it is well-known. Simple process of elimination.”

“Fucking hell,” I said, shaking my head. “All right, get this one. I’m texting the gardener.”

She laughed, although there was something a little… almost nervous about it. “That one is certainly vague.”

“Ah, you don’t know everything.” I wiggled my phone at her. “Do you give up?”

“Unless the gardener is an undercover viscount, I suppose I have to.”

“Miles. He’s engaged to the Duke of Bath’s daughter, Gabriella.”

“Oh, of course. A few weren’t happy about that, were they?”

“There was some discourse among the more old-fashioned families.”

“Like yours?” Her lips tugged into a cheeky little smirk.

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t brought it up.” I laughed and put my phone down, then turned off the light.

“Hmph.” Grace flopped down and snuggled back under the covers. “Those last two were mean.”

“Hardly. How do you know so much, by the way? You know probably as much as I do, and this is my life. People I grew up with.”

“Proximity and my field of study,” she replied quietly, shifting on her back. “I went to school with a few aristocrats, and it’s hard to study the past without also focusing on the present. Not to mention that part of my PhD study is how the aristocracy is relevant to modern-day Britain. I can’t really argue that for a doctorate if I don’t know anything about the modern-day aristocratic families.”

Good point.

“That’s a good point,” I acquiesced. “I know this is somewhat of a break for you, but if I can help you in any way with your studying… All you have to do is ask me.”

“Thank you.” She turned to face me, and I could just about make out her small smile in the darkness. “I really appreciate that. I’d just like to break into the library, to be honest.”

“Let’s see if we can get you in there in the morning. I’ll see if you can’t pick Grandpa’s brains, too.”


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