Miss Mistletoe Read Online Free Page B

impervious to him, she simply couldn’t.
    Everything about him commanded her attention, even if she did not want to give it. If she could have snapped her fingers and magically been back home in Hampshire at that moment, she would have done so. But of course, it was no use. She was stuck in this blasted carriage until they reached the church, which seemed to grow more and more distant no matter how much she willed the journey to be over.
    Cece shifted on the velvet squabs, unconsciously putting as much distance between them as possible. Once, she would have died for the chance to garner Finn’s entire attention like this. And even now, her insides were flipping at his nearness, at his woodsy smell and his carriage-filling presence.
    She had to fight the treacherous attraction her silly brain seemed to think she still harbored for him. After all, even if she had wanted to pursue it—and with their history, she most certainly did not-—she could not have. Her father depended on her too much for her to ever leave him.
    There was only one solution for getting through the day unscathed.
    “You are right, of course,” she said, her voice soft but clear as she turned her attention to the safety of the greenery beyond the carriage window. “Everything was completely my fault. But I learned from my mistake. From now on, I shall strive to ignore you completely.”

Chapter Three
    Finn hadn’t believed her.
    In all their years of knowing one another, Cece had never succeeded—nor tried, as far as he could tell—in ignoring him. During the ceremony, he found himself glancing in her direction, waiting to catch her sneaking a glimpse his way. But she hadn’t. As Evie had read aloud the letter she had written for Hastings before they exchanged vows, and so many of the congregation were sniffling as they shared smiling glances with their loved ones, Cece had kept her eyes trained steadfastly on the altar. And when Hastings had stolen a kiss from his bride when the vicar had his back turned, she had chuckled along with the other guests, seeming to glance everywhere in the church except toward him.
    And then later, as they partook in the glorious wedding breakfast, where the food had been plentiful and the conversation as free-flowing as the wine, she still had never looked in his direction.
    It was especially remarkable, seeing how seemingly every other eligible female there found a way to cross paths with him. He had endured more subtle propositions and hopeful smiles during that breakfast than in the whole of the preceding ten months. Apparently his theory that having an earl present would deflect interest from a mere viscount was grossly wrong.
    Except, of course, when it came to little Miss Mistletoe. The one person he had dreaded, sure that she wouldn’t leave him alone, couldn’t have been less interested in him. It was almost amusing, her pretending that he didn’t exist, all the while conversing pleasantly with those around her. She had made her point. She was no longer his own personal puppy, trailing along behind him.
    Instead, she had played the part of a demure miss, chatting with those around her and laughing in soft tones from time to time. Even now, when the newly wed couple had said their good-byes and all but the guests staying at the Hall were beginning to take their leave, she still managed to avoid acknowledging him in any way, shape, or form.
    Considering they were seated beside each other at Richard’s twin sisters’ pianoforte musicale, it was quite a feat indeed. His gaze flickered sideways, taking in her ramrod straight posture and tightly clasped hands in her lap. Something about her aloofness made him want to bother her. Something to shake the unfamiliar poise so he could catch a glimpse of the girl he remembered.
    This silent treatment had gone on long enough anyhow. They were adults now—they could converse as such. He leaned toward her, breathing in the flowery scent that he could never quite name