by Rose Pearson
As she walked, Jacintha knew she had to forget him and all they had shared. There could be no shared fondness, no secret smiles and private conversations. Her Henry was gone and would remain only as a shadow of her past, never to come into the light again.
Chapter Five
By the following afternoon, Henry was still rather displeased with the way his first meeting with Lady Jacintha had gone. He had expected her to be even a little bit pleased to see him but her stinging rebuke had hit him hard.
He had not allowed it to get to him, of course, for he had simply gone out to the musical recital he had been expected to attend and had carried on as normal. He had even managed a stolen kiss with the beautiful widow of Lord Tunbridge, who, he had heard, was rather good at sharing her favors. He had drunk too much, laughed too loudly and lost too much money at the card table which, all in all, he called a very successful evening.
However, by the time morning came and Henry had found himself wakening up in Whites instead of in his own bed, something like a hammer seemed to strike him over the head.
He had looked around at the rest of his friends, who were all either still drunk or sound asleep on the floor or sprawled across tables, just as he had been, and suddenly Jacintha’s words would not leave his mind. You are not the man I once knew.
Through the filth and dirt of London’s streets, he had stumbled home, his legs weak and powerless. He had hated his weakness, hated retching on the side of the road, hated the way he had men lower in status than he mocking him directly. His family was ashamed of him and, finally, Henry began to understand why.
After he had slept for a few hours, Henry had been forced to rise. Being washed, shaved and dressed had done little for his dejected thoughts. Glancing at himself in the mirror, aware that he looked much more like a gentleman than when he had first arrived home, Henry had taken in his sunken, red-rimmed eyes and the paleness of his cheeks and had been forced to turn away from his reflection. The shame he felt was too much to bear.
Now, sitting alone in the drawing room, Henry tried to reflect on what had occurred since he had first laid eyes on Jacintha, trying to work out why her presence had affected his behavior so much. His parents had given up trying to talk to him a long time ago and even Claudia, who still railed at him from time to time, was becoming less vehement in her frustrations. It was as though they considered him a lost cause, that he would continue to behave this way regardless of what they said. He had never cared about them before, so why did he care now? What was it about Lady Jacintha that had forced him to consider his behavior?
Growling aloud, he put his head in his hands, wishing it did not ache so. His father had returned to his country seat earlier that day when Henry had been still abed. He had not even shown his father the courtesy of wakening so as to bid him farewell. He knew that would have cut deeply. His mother and sister were most likely out visiting friends, or with Claudia’s betrothed, and Henry knew he was not wanted there either. Why did this bite at him now? Why did he care? Lifting his head for a moment, he let a long sigh escape his lips. It was all because he could not rid himself of the memory of holding Jacintha in his arms. Even after all these years, he had never forgotten her.
“Henry!”
The door flew open, startling him, and much to Henry’s surprise, in walked his uncle.
“Uncle,” he stammered, managing to get up from the chair and shake his hand. “Whatever are you doing here?”
His father’s brother, Lord Roderick Musgrove, was tall, with broad shoulders and kind eyes. He had always made the most of being brothers with an Earl, using his own title and influence to do as much good as he could. Of course, being close with his brother, Roderick had, at times, helped him with his business matters and had taken Henry under his wing.
“I came to see you,” Roderick replied, sitting down after embracing Henry into a tight hug. “It has been too long since I have seen you, Henry.”
Henry, still a little stunned by his uncle’s presence, sat down quietly and stared at him. “You came to see me?” Something foreboding was in those words and, with a rueful smile, Henry pointed his finger at his uncle. “You mean, my father wrote to you.”
Roderick smiled, his eyes still as kind and as wise as Henry remembered them, although his thick brown hair was greying at the temples. “Someone has to try and talk sense into you, Henry, and since it appears you will not listen to your mother, father or sister, they thought it best that I try.”
Blowing out a long breath, Henry sat back in his chair and felt shame cover him like a blanket. “I am not sure I will need too much of a talking to, Uncle.”
“Oh?”
Henry shrugged, feeling more than a little embarrassed. “I am aware that my behavior has been a little less than it ought to have been of late.”
There was a moment of silence. “Henry,” his uncle said, his tone low and words carefully chosen. “Your father is constantly paying off your debts, your mother sees you laughing and trifling with as many young ladies – or widows – as you can. Meanwhile your sister is trying to plan a wedding and does not need to be concerned by her husband-to-be choosing to align himself to a better family!”
“A better family?” Henry scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You need not try to emotionally manipulate me, Uncle. I am aware that I have disappointed mama and papa but Claudia and Lord Barker are monstrously happy. They would not allow my ridiculousness to affect their future happiness.”
“Are you quite sure about that?”
His uncle’s question hit Henry right between the eyes. “You cannot be serious, Uncle!”
“I know that there are questions being raised by his family,” came the quiet reply. “They are asking what kind of Earl you will be, whether the connection to your family will be a good and prosperous one.”
Henry closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face. He had never once considered that his own sister’s happiness would be put in jeopardy by his actions!
“I know this is difficult to hear, but you are not the man you need to be,” his uncle said, firmly. “In fact, Henry, you are choosing to be the kind of man you ought not to be.”
“I didn’t think I’d be hurting anyone,” Henry muttered, passing a hand over his eyes. “I just wanted to enjoy my freedom.”
“I think you have been enjoying a little too much,” his uncle replied, quietly. “So much that you have forgotten the responsibilities that come with being the heir to as esteemed a title as Earl.”
There was a long silence. Henry did nothing but sit with his head in his hands, his eyes closed tightly and pain rippling through his mind. He had been enjoying every moment he had of his freedom, thinking that he could exactly what he liked without consequence, only to discover that everything he did was being watched – and noted.
“I know you do not want to harm your sister’s future.”
“No, I do not.”
“Nor do you want to harm your own,” his uncle continued. “Do you really think you will find a suitable wife when the time comes, given your behavior?”
Henry lifted his head, frowning heavily. “Uncle, when the time comes for me to marry, most of the ton will have forgotten every single mistake I ever made. I will no longer be the talk of the town. They will have moved onto others by then.”
“Do not be so sure,” his uncle said, darkly. “You can never tell what your actions will do to your future. An earl is to be responsible and honest, hardworking and attentive to all his duties. Can people look at you and know that you will be that kind of man?”
Henry paused before he answered, remembering all the times he had spent with his father, going over and over accounts and the like. He had been taken to visit the estate’s tenants repeatedly, overseeing the repairs to their homes and ensuring the land was being cared for. There were harvests and plantings, horses to look for, shooting to arrange. He had balked at it, glad when he had been given the freedom to live as he wished, never thinking any more about i
t. And not only had Jacintha spoken to him about his behavior, he now had his uncle doing much the same thing.
“I have been foolish, have I not?” he muttered, shaking his head to himself. “I confess that it is not only you who has spoken to me of this, but another previous acquaintance with whom I have only recently just met again.”
His uncle lifted an eyebrow. “And was this acquaintance glad to see you?”
“She might have been, had I been the same man she once knew,” Henry admitted, sadly. “Her words were harsh but fair, even though I was unwilling to admit it.”
His uncle chuckled, breaking the sudden tension. “A woman is always likely to spark things within the depths of our hearts.”
It was on the tip of Henry’s tongue to say that he did not have any kind of feeling for Jacintha, that their relationship was not of that ilk, but he found that he could not quite say it. He did want to get to know Jacintha again, wanted to show her that he was not the man she had seen when she had first come to town. He could be the man she had once known again, could he not? He would prove it to her, in the hope that she would, at the very least, allow him to be her friend once again. Could he hope for more than that? Did he want more than that?
“I have a proposal for you,” his uncle said, breaking into Henry’s thoughts. “You may reject it outright if you wish, and I will not be offended – but it is just a thought.”
“Yes?” Henry asked, looking over at this uncle. “What is it?”
His uncle cleared his throat, looking a little uncomfortable. “I have, for some time, been involved in an operation that attempts to put an end to the smuggling going on around England’s shores.”
Henry blinked, finding himself astonished once again. “Smuggling?”
His uncle shrugged as though it were commonplace to find a titled gentleman doing such a thing. “I have a small property near the coast, close to the Dover beach. The small town of Ferryway – not that you’ll have heard of it. There is a great deal of smuggling going on – the usual goods of liquor, wool and tea - and the operation is only just beginning. We are in need of good, strong men to assist us.”
“I see,” Henry said, slowly, studying his uncle carefully. “And what would it involve?”
“Patrolling, mostly, with reporting back to the rest of the group about what we have discovered. At times, there might be the need to bear arms or to board a ship. I know you are good at both.”
Henry chuckled, aware that his uncle had been the one to teach him to fight. “Yes, that is true I suppose.”
“We are a group of all kinds of men,” his uncle continued, with a smile. “That means we are not all titled, nor do we all have great fortunes. We work together, as one. There is no snobbery, no arrogance, or the like. You will have to lose such airs and expectations, should you come to join us.”
Henry drew in a long breath, aware that this did not exactly sound enticing.
“I know it is a great deal to consider but I believe it will be the making of you,” his uncle finished, slowly. “I am here until the week’s end. Might you decide by then?”
“Certainly,” Henry agreed, aware that he had very few invitations as yet for the following week. “I have a few more engagements this sennight but I should be able to find time to consider your proposal.”
His uncle chuckled, shaking his head. “Very good, Henry. I will not press you to decide one way or the other. Only know that I have the very best of intentions for you.”
“I do know that, uncle,” Henry replied, honestly. “And I thank you for your concern. Even if I do not come with you to Dover, you can be assured that I will take your words with the very greatest severity. Truly.”
“Thank you, Henry,” his uncle said, quietly. “Think it over. That is all I ask.”
Chapter Six
“Might I have the pleasure of your company?”
Spinning around on her heel, a ready smile on her face, Jacintha made to greet Lord Slate, only to see that it was, in fact, Henry Musgrove. Her smile faded at once, the brightness of her eyes dimming.
“Oh,” she mumbled, as he took her dance card from her limp wrist. “Henry. I mean, Lord Musgrove.”
He chuckled, patting her hand. “We need not worry too much about titles, Lady Jacintha, not unless you believe there is someone watching. We are old friends, are we not?”
“Yes, of course, but – ”
“Then I shall look forward to having your company very soon,” he interrupted, smiling broadly at her. “In two dance’s time, I believe.”
Jacintha struggled to find a response, knowing that she ought to show some kind of gratefulness towards him for his kindness in asking to dance with her, but found she could not even muster a smile. She did not want to dance with Henry, and she had thought she had made that quite clear when she had met him in town two days prior. However, it now seemed that he was quite determined to have her company, which she was not best pleased about.
“Might I sign my name, Lady Jacintha?”
Lord Slate bowed in front of her, only for his smile to slip as he took in her expression.
“Have I upset you in some way?” he asked, looking gravely concerned. “Whatever it is, Lady Jacintha, I beg you to tell me!”
“No, it is not your doing in the least,” she replied at once, managing to shake off her frustrations. “It was just that I have already had a gentleman sign my card, and I did not particularly wish to dance with him.”
“You have had more than one gentleman seek a dance with you, Lady Jacintha,” he chuckled, lifting her dance card. “How glad I am that there are a few spaces left for me!”
Jacintha laughed, glad that he had relieved her tension for the moment. “You know very well that I am looking forward to dancing with you, Lord Slate. You need not seek compliments from me.”
“I am only sorry that I shall have to wait a little longer than I had hoped,” he replied, with a somewhat melancholy expression. “However, I shall look forward to when I have you all to myself for a time.”
Jacintha felt her cheeks burn although, much to her dismay, Henry came to claim her just at the same moment as Lord Slate turned away. She had no other choice but to turn to him and away from Lord Slate, wishing that she had been able to avoid Henry completely somehow.
However, the moment Henry took her in his arms, Jacintha found she could hardly breathe. He had, of course, claimed her for one of the waltzes and she soon found herself spinning around the floor as Henry held her tightly – although at the appropriate distance.
“You dance very well, Jacintha,” he murmured, his eyes catching hers.
“Had you not expected me to?” she replied, a little sarcastically, in an attempt to rid herself of the heat rifling through her.
He chuckled. “Goodness, you are determined to dislike me, are you not?” He leaned a little closer, his arms tightening around her just a fraction. “Why? Is it because you cannot forget what almost occurred between us?”
Jacintha swallowed hard, unable to keep his gaze any longer. “No, indeed. I have only just now recalled it, when you brought it up. In truth, I am relieved that it did not occur, not when you have turned into a rogue.”
“Mayhap I would have never become such a thing had you been by my side,” he murmured, his breath whispering across her cheek. “Mayhap you are the one to change me, Jacintha.”
She could not answer, her breath coming quick and fast as they danced. She was sure her cheeks were red, desperately hoping that he could not hear the hammering of her heart.
Why was she having this reaction? She had tried to push him away, tried to forget the moment he had almost kissed her all those years ago and yet, the moment he had her in his arms, her senses had begun to swim and she felt as though she were walking on air.
It was all quite disconcerting.
“I am disappointed to have to leave you,” Henry murmured, as the dance came to a close. “Our second dance is not until much later. I look forward to hav
ing you by my side once more, Jacintha.”
She did not respond, wishing she could fan her hot cheeks but knowing that, if she did so, it would only draw attention to her. It was a rather great relief that Lord Slate came to claim her hand soon afterwards, albeit after two other gentlemen for whom she did not particularly care for.
“Lord Slate,” she breathed, as he led her to the dance floor. “I am relieved to have you by my side, I must say.”
He chuckled. “Someone trod on your foot, did they?”
She laughed, relief rippling all through her. “Not quite, although they were not exactly graceful.”
“Then I shall do my best to make up for them all,” he replied, his eyes glittering for a moment, the small curve of his lips making her tingle. “You ought to be treated like a precious jewel, my dear Lady Jacintha. Delicately and carefully at all times.”
“Does that mean I sparkle beautifully?” she asked, unable to prevent herself from teasing him.
He lifted one eyebrow, his lips curving upwards. “Always,” he replied, softly, before the music began to sweep them away.
Jacintha could not get his words from her mind as they danced, forgetting entirely about Henry and the strange feelings he had incited in her. Lord Slate was an impeccable dancer although, much to Jacintha’s chagrin, he lacked the passion that Henry had exhibited. He did not bring any of the same emotions to her as Henry had done, nor did she feel any kind of warmth growing in her heart. Even though she cared for Lord Slate and certainly welcomed his attentions, there was no quickening of her heart when she took his hand, no heat climbing up her neck and into her cheeks when he placed his hand delicately on her waist. How strange it was to have such an entirely different experience with a man she knew was more than suitable for her!
But, you do not wish to have any kind of passion between you and your husband, Jacintha. You want a practical, well thought out arrangement. So what does it matter?
