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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“I’m sorry,” she said softly, and there was a genuine sadness in her eyes, too. “How strange that we just spoke about Fred last night.”

“It is, yes. Not the heir anymore.” I pressed my lips together and looked down. “Sorry. It’s a bit of a stark reminder that my getting what I’m due by the virtue of being born is dependent on the death of two people I love dearly.”

“I can’t imagine.” She rested her head on my shoulder, sliding her arm all the way around my body in a gentle hug that spread warmth all through me.

“Thank you,” I said honestly, resting my hand on top of hers on my arm. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I do. I know what losing someone you love feels like, even if this isn’t quite the same.”

“Hm.” I nodded and took a deep breath, enclosing my fingers around hers. “Do you really know Ellie?”

“I do.” She let out a small, quiet chuckle. “Amy was in one of my classes, and she said she had a cousin who was writing a book about an earl but was struggling to find reliable research material. She introduced us and that was that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ve become one of her go-to research spots. I did wonder why she didn’t ask me much when she was writing her last book, but it all made sense when she told me she was seeing Max.”

“She had a much better research source.”

“She did.” Grace lifted her head and slid her hand out from under mine to reach for her tea. “She’ll be back next time.”

“How very strange.”

“I’m in her acknowledgements if you don’t believe me.”

“I believe you,” I replied, watching her. “I just think it’s strange how we really do have mutuals.”

“I told you the engagement party was believable.” She grinned. “Come on. Let’s do what we need to do, and then see if you can break me into that library at some point.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – GRACE

Uh-Oh

Dad’s name flashed on my screen, and I knew the reason he was calling.

The Glenroch family weren’t the only ones who’d lost a friend today.

Eric was a close friend of my dad’s, and I knew Fred well, too. Of course I could never tell William that, and I’d worked hard to keep my own sadness at bay all morning.

Speaking to my dad was not what I wanted to do right now.

I had no choice, though.

I turned to William. “Is there a spot in the castle with good signal? My dad is trying to call.”

“Uh, the kitchen,” he replied. “Is everything okay?”

“If my dad is calling? No.” I got up, laughing. “It’s fine. Granny probably harassed his wife again and he wants me to tell her to back off. I’ll go call him back.”

“Are you sure you can find the kitchen?”

“No, but getting lost in this castle isn’t going to be the worst thing in the world, is it?”

William smiled crookedly. “If you’re not back in thirty minutes, I’m sending the cockatiel after you.”

“Ouch. There’s no need to threaten her,” James said from the other side of the living room.

“Thank you,” I said to Freya’s fiancé. “Someone understands.”

William held his hands up. “Better hope you don’t get lost then.”

“Why don’t you just tell me how to get there?”

“Quite fancy sending the bird after you, to be honest.”

I grabbed a cushion from the sofa and smacked him around the back of the head with it. “Piss off.”

James laughed, and Freya did a double-take as she walked in. “Whatever is going on?”

“How do I get to the kitchen?” I asked her. “I need to call my father back and your brother is threatening me with that bloody bird.”

“Oh, William, you’re such a dick,” Freya said to him. “I’d beat you with a pillow, too.” She turned to me and said, “Left at the end of the hall, then right, and it’s the third door on the right in that hallway.”

“Thank you,” I said, sliding out after her. My phone buzzed in my hand with a text from my dad.

DAD: Answer the phone, please.

ME: Finding better signal. I’ll call you back.

I hurried along the halls in the directions Freya had told me and found the kitchen unscathed.

Now to get off the phone in less than half an hour so William wouldn’t send the bird after me, because I wouldn’t put it past him.

I found a good spot near the window, pulled a stool over, and dialled my father’s phone. It rang three times before he answered with a “Good. That was quick.”

“Yes, sorry, I don’t have the best signal,” I replied. “And I think I know what you’re going to tell me.”

“Eric died overnight.” My dad’s voice was thick, like he was trying not to cry, and I closed my eyes as my heart clenched for him.

“I know,” I said softly. “I’m so sorry, Dad. I know you were good friends.”



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