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Just Like Heaven (Smythe-Smith Quartet #1)(2)

Author:Julia Quinn

And he was assigned to the bed directly next to Marcus’s.

They became the best of friends, and when Daniel invited Marcus home for their first holiday, he went. Daniel’s family lived at Whipple Hill, which wasn’t very far from Windsor, so it was easy for him to make frequent trips home. Marcus, on the other hand . . . Well, it wasn’t as if he lived all the way in Scotland, but it did take more than a day to get back to the northern reaches of Cambridgeshire. Plus, his father had never gone home for the minor holidays and saw no reason why his son should do so, either.

So when the second holiday came up, and Daniel invited Marcus again, he went.

And then again.

And again.

And again until Marcus was spending more time with the Smythe-Smiths than he did with his own family. Of course, his family consisted of exactly one person, but still, if Marcus stopped to think about it (and he did, quite frequently) he spent more time with each individual member of the Smythe-Smith family than he did with his father.

Even Honoria.

Honoria was Daniel’s youngest sister. Unlike the rest of the Smythe-Smiths, she had no siblings close to her own age. She hung off the end of the family by a good five years, a presumably happy accident to cap off Lady Winstead’s marvelous procreative career.

But five years was a large gulf, especially if one was but six years old, which was Honoria’s age when Marcus first met her. Her three oldest sisters were already married or engaged to be, and Charlotte, who was eleven, wanted nothing to do with her. Neither did Daniel, but absence must have made Honoria’s heart grow ridiculously fond, because when he was home from school, she followed him around like a puppy.

“Don’t make eye contact,” Daniel once told Marcus as they were trying to avoid her on a hike down to the lake. “If you acknowledge her, it’s all over.”

They walked purposefully, heads forward. They were going fishing, and the last time Honoria had joined them she had dumped out all the worms.

“Daniel!” she yelled.

“Ignore her,” Daniel muttered.

“Daniel!!!!!!!!!!!!” She went from yell right to shriek.

Daniel flinched. “Faster,” he said. “If we make it to the woods she won’t find us.”

“She knows where the lake is,” Marcus felt compelled to point out.

“Yes, but—”

“Daniel!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“—she knows Mother will have her head if she goes into the woods alone. Even she’s not foolish enough to press Mother on that.”

“Dan—” But she cut herself off. And then, in a voice so pathetic one could not help but turn, she said, “Marcus?”

He turned.

“Noooooooooooooo!” Daniel moaned.

“Marcus!” Honoria called out happily. She skipped forward, coming to a bounce and a stop in front of them. “What are you doing?”

“We’re going fishing,” Daniel growled, “and you’re not coming.”

“But I like to fish.”

“So do I. Without you.”

Her face screwed up.

“Don’t cry,” Marcus said quickly.

Daniel was unimpressed. “She’s faking.”

“I’m not faking!”

“Just don’t cry,” Marcus repeated, because truly, that had to be the most important thing.

“I won’t,” she said, batting her lashes, “if you let me go with you.”

How did a six-year-old know how to bat her lashes? Or maybe she didn’t, because a moment later she was squirming and rubbing her eye.

“Now what’s wrong?” Daniel asked.

“I got something in my eye.”

“Maybe it was a fly,” Daniel said slyly.

Honoria screamed.

“That might not have been the best thing to say,” Marcus pointed out.

“Get it out! Get it out!” she shrieked.

“Oh, settle down,” Daniel said. “You’re perfectly fine.”

But she kept screaming, batting at her face with her hands. Finally Marcus grabbed her hands in his and held her head utterly still, her hands at her temples, his hands over hers. “Honoria,” he said firmly, “Honoria!”

She blinked, gasped, and finally stilled.

“There is no fly,” he said to her.

“But—”

“It was probably an eyelash.”

Her mouth formed a little O.

“Can I let go of you now?”

She nodded.

“You won’t start screaming?”

She shook her head.

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