Just Like Heaven by Julia Quinn Read Free Book Online Page A

silence it was easy to hear the knock at the door, followed by the slight creak as the butler opened it.
    â€œStand straight,” Mrs. Royle hissed at Cecily. And then, as an afterthought: “The rest of you, too.”
    But when the butler appeared in the doorway, he was alone. “Lord Chatteris has sent his regrets,” he announced.
    Everyone slumped. Even Mrs. Royle. It was as if they’d each been pricked by a pin, the air squeezed right out of them.
    â€œHe sent a letter,” the butler said.
    Mrs. Royle held out her hand, but the butler said, “It is addressed to Lady Honoria.”
    Honoria straightened and, aware that every eye was now trained on her, worked a little harder to suppress the relief that she was sure showed on her face. “Er, thank you,” she said, taking the folded sheet of parchment from the butler.
    â€œWhat does it say?” Sarah asked, before Honoria could even break the seal.
    â€œJust one moment,” Honoria murmured, taking a few steps toward the window so that she might read Marcus’s letter in relative privacy. “It’s nothing, really,” she said, once she’d finished the three short sentences. “There was an emergency at his home, and he is unable to visit this afternoon.”
    â€œThat’s all he said?” Mrs. Royle demanded.
    â€œHe’s not one for lengthy explanations,” Honoria said.
    â€œPowerful men do not explain their actions,” Cecily announced dramatically.
    There was a moment of silence while everyone digested that, and then Honoria said, in a purposefully cheerful voice, “He wishes all well.”
    â€œNot well enough to grace us with his presence,” Mrs. Royle muttered.
    The obvious question of the house party hung in the air, with the young ladies glancing back and forth between them, silently wondering who would step forward to ask it. Finally, all eyes settled on Cecily. It had to be her. It would have been rude coming from anyone else.
    â€œWhat shall we do about the party at Bricstan?” Cecily asked. But her mother was lost in thought, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. Cecily cleared her throat and then said, a bit louder, “Mother?”
    â€œIt’s still a good idea,” Mrs. Royle said suddenly. Her voice was loud with determination, and Honoria almost felt the syllables echo off her ears.
    â€œThen we shall still invite the students?” Cecily said.
    â€œI had thought of Gregory Bridgerton,” Sarah put in helpfully, “and Neville Berbrooke.”
    â€œGood choices,” Mrs. Royle said, marching across the room to her desk. “Good family, the both of them.” She pulled out several sheets of cream-colored paper, then flipped through the corners, counting them out. “I shall write the invitations immediately,” she said, once she had the correct number of sheets. She turned to Honoria, arm outstretched. “Except this one.”
    â€œI beg your pardon?” Honoria said, even though she knew exactly what Mrs. Royle meant. She just didn’t want to accept it.
    â€œInvite Lord Chatteris. Just as we planned. Not for the entire party, just for an afternoon. Saturday or Sunday, whichever he prefers.”
    â€œAre you sure the invitation should not come from you?” Cecily asked her mother.
    â€œNo, it is better from Lady Honoria,” Mrs. Royle stated. “He will find it more difficult to decline, coming from such a close family friend.” She took another step forward, until there was no way Honoria could avoid taking the paper from her hand. “We are good neighbors, of course,” Mrs. Royle added. “Do not think we are not.”
    â€œOf course,” Honoria murmured. There was nothing else she could have said. And, she thought as she looked down at the paper in her hand, nothing else she could do. But then her luck turned. Mrs. Royle sat at the desk, which meant Honoria had no choice but to