He looked at the picture and then at Henri. The furrow between his brows deepened. Henri craned her neck, trying to get a glimpse of the portrait. She had seen some of Sophie’s other work and thought it quite good, in particular a portrait of Robert where his face was relaxed and smiling. There had been something about the eyes.
‘It is a passable likeness, but you have not got her mouth quite right. Thorndike’s is more bow-shaped.’
‘Just passable?’ Sophie tried to snatch the picture from his fingers but Robert held it away from her. ‘I want it to be perfect. Give me it so I can destroy it. You’re a beast, Robert.’
Robert calmly folded the portrait and put it in his frock-coat pocket. ‘I’ll keep it safe. You may draw Henri another one, one with a bit more accuracy.’
‘And I did not even get to make a judgement?’ Henri asked, putting her hand on her hip in mock indignation.
‘In my experience most women hate pictures of themselves.’ The dimple flashed at the corner of his mouth. ‘Sophie will show you when the new one is ready.’
‘Am I expected now to sit for more hours?’ Henri collapsed against the back of the chair.
‘Is that a problem?’
‘I believe I deserve a chance for fresh air before Sophie becomes a slave driver again. Is it any wonder I’m longing to dance when all I do is sit?’
‘Are you longing to dance?’ he asked, his eyes turning speculative.
‘Yes!’ she cried. ‘I adore dancing. It is one of the few bonuses of being a confirmed widow. You’re able to dance with those whom you choose. I was looking forward to the ball. It’s for the best I’m staying here as I doubt I would’ve been able to resist the temptation.’
‘We want your ankle to be completely healed before you leave here!’ Sophie cried. ‘Robert, make Henri understand. She must stay longer.’
‘There has been enough posing for today,’ Robert declared. ‘Henri can burn off some of her energy by coming for a walk into the stable yard and you, young lady, had best get your ball gown out. You do not want to suddenly discover that you need to alter the dress, the way you did an hour before you first went to Almack’s.’
‘And it was far from my fault that the ruffle was wrongly placed on that dress.’ Sophie rushed off to her bedroom, leaving Henri with Robert. He held out his arm.
‘Is this your way of saying that I’m recovered and should consider returning to my life, despite Sophie’s desire to continue playing nursemaid?’ Henri asked in alarm as they walked out into the stable yard.
She had hated her first few days here, but she had come to enjoy the unaccustomed feeling of peace and tranquillity. And what if he did wish to be rid of her before the dinner party? What possible reason could he have for that? She tried and failed to imagine Robert and Miss Armstrong together.
Her footstep faltered. Instantly his arm came around her waist, holding her upright. Her entire being hummed from the contact. ‘Are you certain?’
‘Stiff muscles,’ she said and kept her gaze straight ahead.
‘You are looking very serious suddenly,’ he said as they made slow progress towards the stable. ‘A day or two more will hardly be a hardship. You seem to be a steadying influence on Sophie.’
Henri forced her brow to clear and her face to become a bland social smile, but her stomach knotted in disappointment. She’d half-hoped that he wanted her there for himself, but he wanted her for his ward. It was also none of her business whom Robert became involved with. She had given such things up. She was content being a widow. And if she kept telling herself that she’d believe it. ‘I’m trying to puzzle out why I need to come to the stable yard, rather than taking a turn about the garden.’
‘There is someone I’d like you to meet, Henri. Someone who wants to apologise.’
‘Mr Teasdale wishes to apologise?’ she asked, keeping her eyes firmly down on the flag stone rather than glancing up into his face. She knew her cheeks flamed. ‘It has taken him long enough. It has been over a week.’
‘I had to wait until I could trust him, but here he is, contrite and sorry.’
Henri turned towards where Robert pointed. There in the yard stood a mastiff dog, its head tilted to one side, tail slowly wagging. Her knees turned to jelly. She reached out and clung to Robert’s arm. If she could, she’d run back to her room, but as it was she could only stand.
‘That is the dog that attacked me. Mr Teasdale’s dog. Why is he here?’
‘My dog now.’ Robert put a protective hand on her shoulder. ‘Teasdale was not a fit keeper for such a magnificent beast. It is astonishing how quickly he calmed down. All Boy wanted is a bit of care and attention.’
‘I will…I will take your word for it.’ Henri silently measured the distance between the yard and the house. If she walked very quickly, she might make it back safely. But now every waking moment would be filled with dread. ‘Was there any need for me to meet this creature? I could have happily gone for the rest of my life never encountering it again except in my nightmares! He savaged my leg!’
‘Knowing the dog better, I think he was trying to rescue you after you fell. He wanted you off that road. He saw you fall and thought to rescue you from the post-coach.’
‘He did?’ Henri didn’t attempt to hide her incredulity.
‘I thought once you’d met Boy properly, you would cease to be afraid,’ he said quietly, holding her elbow in an unrelenting grip. ‘It is no good going through life being scared—you must confront your fear head-on.’
‘And you accuse me of being high-handed!’ Henri shifted uneasily. Robert had no right to do this to her. ‘It might attack me again.’
‘I’m giving you the opportunity to overcome your fear. I don’t want you to become a prisoner in your house, afraid to go out of the house for fear of meeting a dog.’
Henri tried to ignore the perspiration breaking out on her forehead. All she could see was the dog’s jaws. It was unfair of Robert not to warn her. Now she’d have to confess about her fear and he’d laugh. ‘I am not overly fond of dogs, it’s true. Can I go back in now? It is a bit much for my ankle. It is throbbing. I think I need to sit down. Yes, that’s it. My ankle is poorly.’
‘Any dog frightens you?’ He spun her around so he was looking directly into her eyes. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before? You can admit weaknesses, Henri. It means people are less likely to make mistakes and errors of judgement.’
‘It is hardly something one brings up in casual conversation.’ Henri took a steadying breath. It was far easier now that she was looking at Robert rather than at the mastiff. She had to hope that he did not think her a complete ninny and mock her like Sebastian always did.
Haltingly, she continued, ‘I even had to get rid of the pug puppies Sebastian left the last time. They nipped and jumped up. One drew blood. And travelling up to Corbridge was a nightmare. My aunt loved them, but the thought of having a dog in the house, particularly those ones as they tended to throw up. I had to persuade Lady Winship to take them.’
‘Puppies sometimes nip if they are overexcited or not trained properly.’ His eyes shone amber, but there was only concern. ‘Is there any particular reason you don’t like dogs?’
She took a deep breath, hating how childish she was going to sound. ‘Sebastian once dared me to walk along the high ridge by the hounds when I was about ten. Sensibly I refused. He enlisted Edmund in the scheme. They both walked along the high ridge without a problem. They both kept on and on at me until I tried. I missed my step and fell in. The dogs tore at my skirt and I screamed.’ Henri bit her lip. She risked another quick glance at the dog. Instead of jumping about like he had done, the dog had settled down with its large head on its paws. ‘Sebastian thought it would be amusing to see what would happen if he left me there to fight them off alone. The more I screamed for help, the harder he laughed, and the more aggressive the dogs became. I tried to run, but one of the hounds knocked me down. Edmund rescued me when he realised that the dogs were abou
t to tear me limb from limb. And I loved him for it.’
His face became thunderous. ‘Did they get in trouble?’
‘Sebastian swore us to secrecy. After that, Edmund decided to become my protector.’
Henri looked at her hands and waited to hear his scornful laughter. It was such an inconsequential fear. Sebastian sometimes teased her about it.
Robert continued to look at her with concern.
‘It was a long time ago,’ she said into the silence. ‘And I do hate still being afraid.’
‘Will you meet Boy or is it too much?’ He pointed towards the dog. ‘See, he is trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.’
Henri turned round, ready to refuse. But the dog put his paws over his nose, hiding his face. The effect was so comical that Henri struggled not to laugh.
With Robert standing next to her, the dog could hardly harm her. Henri risked a breath. She trusted Robert to look after her.
‘I will meet him, but only to show you that I am not paralysed by fear.’
Robert whistled and the dog instantly trotted up, looking far more like a small horse than a conventionally sized dog. At Robert’s signal, the dog dropped down on its haunches and held out its right paw.
‘If you would just take his paw.’ Henri screwed up her eyes and held out her hand. Robert’s strong fingers curled around it and held it tight. ‘Look at me, Henrietta Thorndike. Not the dog, at me. There are tricks you can learn to show a dog you are the master. It is all in how you approach the dog and the tone of your voice.’
Slowly Henri opened her eyes and found herself staring into his.
‘I want to do this, but.’
‘The only way to stop being afraid is to conquer your fear. Once you have done it one time, it becomes easier.’
‘How do you know?’ Henri asked.
Shadows invaded his eyes. ‘I do. When I was young, after my mother died, I used to be afraid of many things. But I learnt how to overcome them. My father insisted that I ignore my emotions and put my faith in cool logic. People depended on me to make the right decision with the foundry and my other businesses. I learnt and it became easier. Trust the facts, not the fear, Henri.’
Afraid of many things. She found it difficult to imagine Robert ever being afraid and, more to the point, to be willing to admit it. ‘Even dancing?’
His face became remote. ‘I’ve never been afraid of dancing. I simply choose to forgo the dubious pleasure of having my feet stepped on while candle wax drips on my head.’
‘Sophie said you used to be a marvellous dancer. She used to watch you dance when she was a little girl.’
‘Sophie has altogether too loose of a tongue. It was a long time ago.’
‘You should get used to it again. If I can meet a dog, you can dance. It would mean a lot to…to Sophie.’
‘The two matters are unrelated.’
‘Are they?’ Henri crossed her arms. Trust the facts, indeed. ‘They seem to be the same thing. You want me to do something I fear, but at the same time you wish to avoid something you fear.’
‘Your view differs from mine. I’m not afraid of dancing. I simply no longer have time for something that frivolous.’
She gave an uneasy glance at Boy’s teeth and the way his tongue lapped at them as if he were sizing her up for another meal. ‘If I meet Boy, will you at least dance with Sophie?’
His amber eyes blazed at her. ‘Prove it to me first, Henri.’
Henri drew in her breath. ‘I can’t make any promises, but I will try.’
A small light of respect came into his eyes and a great bath of warmth infused her body. She wasn’t going to do this for anyone. She was going to do this for herself.
‘Crouch down and hold your hand out palm upwards. Remember he has fears as well, but he wants to be your friend.’
Slowly Henri advanced forwards until her hand touched the dog’s velvet nose. The soft swoosh of breath tickled her palm, but the dog made no move towards her.
Behind she could sense Robert; even though he made no move to touch her, she knew he was there, willing her on.
With a hesitant finger she touched the dog’s ear and saw the massive eyes soften. ‘I accept your apology, Boy.’
The dog gave a low woof and it was all Henri could to keep upright and not run.
‘He is saying that he is pleased.’ Robert put his hand on top of hers. ‘Stroke his head. A firm but gentle touch.’
She reached out a hand, hesitated. She fumbled for her reticule and its good-luck charm, wincing as she realised that it was lying up in the sickroom. ‘I’m not sure about this. The omens aren’t good.’ The words seemed feeble.
‘Omens? You don’t need to rely on any superstitious nonsense. One thing more. Allow him to become your friend.’ There was something in his eyes. ‘Please.’
‘Why? I think it would be better if we discussed Sophie and the ball. Have you made a list of eligible men who could partner her for the first dance if you will not?’
‘No.’
Henri blinked. ‘No? I’m certain if you sent word to Lady Winship, she’d be more than happy to help.’
‘Every time you want to divert attention, you start on about someone else’s problem. Your problem, your fears.’
Henri opened and closed her mouth several times, trying to think of the appropriate response. ‘That is preposterous nonsense.’
Robert reached out a hand, but she ignored his outstretched fingers. He was asking her to do far more than meet the dog. He was asking her to change her life and put her past behind her—to stop caring for others and start looking to her own happiness. And she knew in that heartbeat that she wasn’t ready to take the risk. What if she lost her heart to him? Could she live with that? She looked into his eyes and saw pity at her hesitation.
‘Is it so very hard to do, Thorndike, to let go of your fear?’ he asked softly.
‘You are asking far too much of me.’
Without waiting for an answer, Henri turned and fled back to the house, running with an unsteady gait.
Robert allowed his hand to fall back at his side and knelt down beside the dog. Boy nuzzled his hand.
‘I did it wrong, Boy. I misjudged it,’ he said. ‘I pushed her too hard.’
Chapter Eight
The next morning, leaning on a cane, Henri knocked on the door to Robert’s study. She had spent most of the night thinking about the incident with Boy, going over it in her mind. She had been wrong to fling those accusations at Robert. She had read far too much into his words. She had gone beyond the bounds of propriety and had behaved like a spoilt child, not much older than Sophie, taking to her room and refusing to come down for supper as her ankle hurt too much.
‘I wanted to apologise for my behaviour in the stable yard yesterday,’ she said, concentrating on the way his long fingers grasped the fountain pen rather than on his face.
‘Think nothing of it.’ His warm voice rolled over her. Somehow, his making light of it made her feel worse. She wasn’t asking for favours from him. ‘It happens. I asked too much of you. Your fear is real. It was wrong of me to discount it. I will remember that for the future.’
Henri stood still, shocked. She’d been prepared for scorn and Robert appeared to be understanding. She clenched her fist.
‘I want to try again. I gave in to the fear. Running away solved nothing.’ She smoothed the folds of her skirts, hating the way her heart skipped a beat. She wanted to see the regard in his eyes rather than pity. The thing she hated most of all was pity. ‘Please can you help? Can you give me a second chance with Boy?’
His face became a wreath of smiles. The tension in Henri’s shoulders eased.
‘There’s no shame in asking for help. It’s what friends are for.’
‘But I hate doing so. Asking for help makes you weak.’ She licked her dry lips. Henri thought about her mother and how she kept demanding attention all the time. ‘The last thing I want to be is a clinging vine.’
&nb
sp; ‘Clinging vine are not exactly the words that spring to mind when I think of you.’
‘Oh, what—obstinate and stubborn?’
‘Possibly.’ The dimple in the corner of his mouth deepened. ‘Stop fishing for compliments!’
‘Only you would understand what a compliment obstinate is!’
He offered her his arm, but she refused, gesturing with her stick. ‘We people of independent mind walk under our own power.’
‘You’re determined to prove your point.’
* * *
When they reached the yard, Boy clambered to his feet the instant she saw him. He strained slightly against the chain. But this morning, Henri could see he was only excited, rather than trying to hurt her.
Slowly she edged her way towards him, holding out her hand. She wanted to lay her fear to rest, rather than hug it to her. She could change. Her past didn’t have to be a prison.
Gingerly she touched the dog’s head. The fur was silky smooth under her fingers. The dog settled down at her feet. ‘Pleased to meet you, Boy, again. I hope we can be friends now that you have been tamed.’
‘He wanted a bit of understanding and to know what the rules were,’ Robert murmured, his breath tickling her ear. Henri’s pulse started to do strange things.
‘Back to your rules.’ She struggled to breathe normally. ‘You’re only comfortable when you’re setting them.’
‘They do help keep things in order. Boy reminds me of my first dog, Jack. Jack was a faithful dog, always following my footsteps until he died.’
‘Were you upset when he did?’
‘Utterly distraught, but my mother gave me another dog for my birthday. And I found that I loved him because of Jack.’
To Marry A Matchmaker (Historical Romance) Page 11
