‘Matters are satisfactorily concluded. All misunderstandings cleaned up. I repeated what I said in the letter. He understood.’ Sophie clapped her hands together and gave a beaming smile. Henri breathed slightly easier. She hoped that Sophie had let her cousin down easily. Sebastian deserved to learn that women did have minds of their own.
‘Henri, if you ever need me to come and nurse you, simply send word.’ Sophie gathered Henri’s hands between hers. Her face took on a very earnest expression. ‘I heard what Doctor Lumley said about you overdoing things. If you will be more comfortable in your own home, so be it.’
‘I doubt Robert would allow that. It would be far too much to ask of him.’ Henri hated how her voice broke over his name.
Sophie gave her a sharp look. ‘Robert left the ball early. Did you know?’
‘Yes, I did.’
Sophie gave a dazzling smile. ‘Then you will understand why Robert would not dare refuse. And why he will want to say adieu.’
‘What is going on here? Why is Lady Cawburn’s carriage here?’ Robert’s voice rang out.
Henri’s pulse leapt and she struggled to keep her breathing even. Her simple escape plan had been foiled.
‘Dear Henri is leaving,’ Sophie called out. ‘I’m attempting to persuade her that she needs to stay for a while yet.’
‘Henri’s leaving? Why?’
Sophie cocked her head to one side. ‘Is that Stepmama calling? I promised her a tisane for her poorly head. Henri, you can explain to Robert why you are going on your own, can’t you?’
Without waiting for an answer, Sophie skipped away, leaving Henri standing in the entrance while Robert came through the front door. Sporting a wide-brimmed straw hat and loose coat, he’d obviously been out inspecting the Roman excavations.
Henri clutched her reticule to her breast, acutely aware of him and the searing kiss they had shared last night. She attempted to get her thoughts in order.
‘Aunt Frances sent a note. She needs me.’ She fumbled with her reticule, trying to find the piece of paper. ‘I’ll find it for you.’
He waved an impatient hand. ‘And you were going to sneak out like a thief in the night without saying goodbye. Cowardice, Thorndike.’
‘We were bound to see each other again and no one knew where you had gone. Something has happened.’ Henri’s fingers closed around the note and she held it out to him.
She sucked in her breath as their fingers brushed. The merest touch sent her heart hammering against her ribs. She struggled to maintain her poise.
‘Then you must go where you’re needed, Lady Thorndike.’
Lady Thorndike. Henri’s insides twisted and she saw she had hurt him. She hadn’t intended to do that. ‘She’s my aunt. I look after her.’
‘She has a son.’
‘She depends on me.’
‘You are putting your responsibilities first.’ He gave her a dark sardonic look. ‘Who could fault that?’
‘There’s no need for sarcasm.’ She worried her bottom lip. This interview was proving far harder than she had dreamt possible. ‘I thought you’d understand.’
He pulled the brim of his hat down so it shaded his face. ‘I do.’
And she knew from the tone of his voice that he’d seen through her ruse. He was well aware of why she was going. But to stay was to risk temptation.
‘Everything will be as it was, Montemorcy. Life will return to normal. There won’t be a need to wager again.’
He caught her arm and pulled her close. Her body collided with his. His sandalwood scent surrounded her and held her. ‘I’ll let you go…this time…Henri.’
His whispered words sent an aching thrill arcing through her body. She flicked her tongue over her lips and resisted the temptation to turn her head, meet his mouth and discover precisely how intoxicating his lips were. She broke free.
‘The carriage is waiting.’ Her voice sounded thick and husky.
His knuckle traced the outline of her lips. ‘We’ll finish this conversation later. I promise.’
* * *
Raised voices in the drawing room greeted Henri when she returned to Dyvels. She breathed deeply, allowing the unchanging scent of beeswax polish, mothballs and old wood to fill her lungs. This was the place she had found refuge and had regained meaning to her life. She liked the constant unchanging rhythms. She knew who she was here. With Robert, she was someone different. Here, she’d become once again Lady Thorndike, instead of Henri. And Lady Thorndike knew her late husband was irreplaceable. Her heart was not going to be touched again or hurt again. She couldn’t bear the thought of going through that all-consuming grief again. Never again would one person have the power to reduce her to a gibbering wreck.
‘You are home, my lady.’ Reynolds bowed and his face betrayed nothing but welcome. ‘A most unexpected pleasure.’
‘Aunt Frances sent a note.’ Henri gave a polite smile.
‘We are glad to have you back. There has been a nasty tempest brewing. My lady is in despair. And it was good of you to come…’
The voices in the library became raised again. Henri tilted her head. ‘Stormy weather?’
‘My lady has discovered his lordship’s debts. They are worse than his father’s.’
Debts. Henri stood still. Sebastian had promised.
‘I see. Thank you, Reynolds.’
Henri opened the door to the library. Both voices stopped immediately. Aunt Francis stood frozen with several pieces of paper in her hand and Sebastian wore his sullen face.
‘Henrietta, my dear,’ Aunt Frances said, recovering first. She reached for her shawl and placed it about her shoulders. ‘You are so good to me. You may deal with this unpleasantness as I fear I’m not strong enough. Sebastian, tell your cousin what you’ve done.’
She rose and, after kissing Henri’s cheek, departed the room. A muffled sob sounded from the hallway.
‘How bad is it, Sebastian?’ Henri asked after the library had fallen into silence. ‘How did you disgrace yourself this time? You mightn’t care for Corbridge and its provincial society, but it is your mother’s home.’
‘It could be worse.’ He gave a shrug and began to play with the letter opener, tossing it from hand to hand. ‘I simply lost more than I bargained for at the gaming table, but it will be put right. I’m determined to look after Mama and to keep her in the style she is accustomed to. Me! This wagering with strange men for Mama’s sake must stop, Henrietta. It was wrong of you.’
‘I…I…’ Henri put her hand to her throat.
‘Dear Mama is worrying over nothing. It won’t come to selling this house and her widow’s portion is safe. All I did was ask her for a loan just until my rents come through. You would think I had asked her to commit murder.’
‘This is the real reason why Robert Montemorcy did not want you to court Sophie—your inability to manage money. He thought you a fortune hunter of the worst sort.’ Henri put a hand to her head and sank into the winged armchair. Her ankle throbbed slightly. ‘The sale of Chestercamp wiped the slate clean.’
‘My money situation is my business, cousin. It is temporary, until the rents come in. A gentleman’s debts of honour must be paid.’
‘You’re becoming exactly like your father, Sebastian, and you always swore you never would,’ Henri said with resignation.
‘Temporary, Henri. My luck is about to change. I can feel it in my bones.’
She hugged her arms about her waist. She did not know what was worse—Sebastian’s debts or the fact that he had hidden them from her. Or that Robert had kept it from her as well. As if she had ever asked for his protection!
‘Gamblers always say that, Sebastian, just before they lose it all.’
‘A slight setback. I plan on paying Mama back. My creditors are being less than generous. I will recover with the right woman by my side. It is only because I am missing her that I spend time at the tables.’
‘And wouldn’t this right woman have expectations at being kept
in a style that she was accustomed to? Without fear of the bailiffs?’
‘No wife of mine would ever want for anything!’ Sebastian made a mutinous face. ‘Montemorcy had no right to go prying into my affairs!’
‘He has every right. Sophie is his ward. He needs to look after her interests.’ She closed her eyes.
‘You’re being ridiculous, Henrietta!’ Sebastian looked aghast that she might think differently. ‘You’re being far too judgemental. You’ve forgotten what it is like to be passionately in love. You’re far too practical.’
‘Your faith in my character does wonders for my self-regard.’ Henri shifted uncomfortably. What would Sebastian do if he knew about the kiss she had shared with Robert Montemorcy? Would he use it as a bargaining chip to get what he wanted? She refused to let him. ‘But you need to consider Sophie. She wrote to you. She doesn’t want to be estranged from her family.’
Sebastian half-closed his eyes and an overly pleased smile crossed his lips. ‘How does Sophie feel about me, Henrietta? The truth, now. Did you tell her of my suit and how I long to be with her? We spoke—briefly. That Armstrong person hovered at her elbow, like a determined dragon. It was all I could do to get her to dance with me.’
‘Sophie danced with you?’ Henri leant forwards, looking for any slight clue in Sebastian’s demeanour of what had actually occurred.
‘We danced one of the Harlequins. There was time for a few whispered words without the Armstrong dragon descending.’ Sebastian drummed a steady beat against the rosewood table. ‘Why does everyone assume the worst of me, Henri? My intentions are honourable.’
‘And…?’ Henri waited for Sebastian’s verbal acknowledgement of Sophie’s indifference.
‘Her guardian doesn’t favour my suit and his mind remains unchanged as my prospects remain the same.’ Sebastian made a face, but he ceased drumming. ‘She has no wish to cause distress to her family. Would I be willing to wait until she reached her majority and then we’d see.’
‘Then, it is an end to it. She has more familial feeling than she has feeling for you.’ Henri wished she could shake them both—Sophie for hiding behind Robert and Sebastian for ruining his prospects. ‘There are plenty of other women.’
‘Poor sweet Henrietta.’ Sebastian shook his head in a pitying way. ‘You have no talent for deception whereas Sophie is a mistress of it. It is her guardian that is the problem. Blast his eyes. Sophie as good as told me that. Without him…she would already be mine.’
Henri stared at her cousin open-mouthed. ‘Sophie is an intelligent young woman who is used to making up her own mind. From what I know of Robert Montemorcy, he wouldn’t stand in the way if his ward truly desired the match. Take the rejection on the chin, Sebastian. Move on and find a woman who adores you.’
‘Are you saying that it’s not Sophie? When has a woman ever refused me?’ His eyes widened with incredulity. ‘You’re sadly mistaken, cousin. Sophie adores me. No woman who adores me has ever said no to me.’
‘Sometimes no means no, rather than an attempt to be coy.’ All of Henri’s muscles coiled ready for a fight. He had to understand before he ruined them all. ‘The trouble with you, Sebastian, is that up until now, women have fallen into your lap like ripe plums. You’ve never had to work hard. If you truly wish to have Sophie, then, in light of your debts, you had best do something to deserve her.’
A stunned silence filled the room. A wave of triumph surged through Henri. She put her hand on the doorknob. ‘Now that your non-future with Sophie is settled, I do have a busy life beyond your whims and fancies.’
‘Miss Armstrong told everyone who cared to listen about her supper party with Robert Montemorcy,’ Sebastian said as she was about to leave the room. ‘I understand it was quite intimate. Are wedding bells in the air?’
‘I was at the intimate supper party of twelve. Mrs Armstrong exaggerates the friendship,’ Henri said when she had gulped several mouthfuls of air.
‘Miss Armstrong has set her cap for Robert Montemorcy. The entire neighbourhood is aware of it.’ Sebastian gave a half-smile and a tiny flutter of his fingers. ‘I wondered if you were.’
‘Miss Armstrong may very well be interested in obtaining R—that is to say, Mr Montemorcy’s hand in matrimony, but I dare say that Mr Montemorcy is well able to look after himself. Miss Armstrong will not be the first woman to have tried.’ Henri pulled at the door, which suddenly gave way and sent her flying backwards. Her bottom hit the occasional table with a thump.
‘But I thought you would welcome the names of your competition.’
‘And you know I have no desire to remarry.’ Henri put her hands on her hips. Sebastian was intent on making mischief rather than having guessed her secret. ‘Stop trying to pair Robert and me off. It is really most annoying.’
‘It is Robert now, is it?’ Sebastian gave her a hard look. ‘What else has been going on while you have been away? What are you keeping from me, cousin dear? Do you know his antecedents? How his stepmother ran away with the dancing master? And the scandal of his father’s suicide? I do. I made it my business to know.’
‘Mr Montemorcy rescued me.’ Henri concentrated on undoing the ribbons of her bonnet and placing it on the side table, rather than thinking about the ugly rumour that spilled from Sebastian’s mouth. Was it any wonder that Robert had given up dancing and decided to concentrate on saving the family’s business? And how bitter arriving back in England with the musical box to discover his father dead by his own hand must have been.
Sebastian must not learn about last night’s kiss. In his present state, he’d confront Robert, accusing him of seeking to seduce her in revenge for his own thwarted love affair with Sophie.
She bit off each word, making sure that there could be no misunderstanding. ‘I recuperated at his house. We spoke a little. Mostly Sophie nursed me. She likes to paint. Terribly artistic. She has done a portrait of me. I shall have it framed and put it above the mantelpiece in my bedroom. And before you ask, Sebastian, I will not lend you any money either.’
‘Do not seek to change the subject, Henri.’ Sebastian held up his hand. ‘Was Sophie your nurse the entire time? Or did you have cause to speak with Montemorcy?’
‘Sophie did have to sleep,’ Henri said thoughtlessly and then regretted it as Sebastian’s gaze became intent. Her cheeks began to burn. She stared at a point somewhere above Sebastian’s head and tried not to think of the intimate moments she had shared with Robert. If she did not think about them, she would not mention them, but even now the memory of his touch threatened to swamp her senses.
‘He entertained you late at night. Curious. One of you must be aware of how easy it is to ruin a reputation, even a reputation as fearsome as yours, Henrietta. The great tragic widow. Are you planning on becoming his mistress?’
‘I refuse to answer your question.’ Henri tapped her foot against the carpet. ‘You are being improper and impertinent.’
‘No.’ Sebastian stroked his chin and made a note on a piece of paper. His eyes took on a sly look. ‘You are being naïve, Henrietta. Men like that always want something more. You need my guiding hand. If you just lend—’
‘Sebastian, where is this conversation going?’ Henri crossed her arms. ‘I have no need of a lecture about propriety or family feeling or whatever you might think to lecture me on. Your troubles have nothing to do with me. And I will not give you any hush money to stop you spreading rumours. I know where the lines are drawn. I’ve no intention on crossing them.’
‘No one said anything about blackmail. Perish the thought.’ Sebastian put his hands on Henri’s shoulders. He looked down at her, his deep blue eyes showing injured innocence. ‘I’m not the villain here, Henrietta Maria; remember that. I only want to be with the love of my life and for that I need to restore my fortune. I’ll do it with or without your help.’
Henri stepped away from him and looked at her cousin closely, truly looked at him. Superficially he was the same handsome man, but there was a hard
ness in his eyes and she knew soon the years of extravagant living would begin to show. What was worse, he stood there with a superior expression on his face as if she’d give in and help him because she’d helped him so many times before. ‘Sometimes I’ve trouble believing you, Sebastian. Go back to London and leave us alone.’
His eyes widened before his face contorted with fury. ‘I’ll not be denied, Henrietta.’
‘I’m not against you, Sebastian.’ Henri held out her hands. ‘I want the best for you, but you’re behaving like a spoilt child. You’re better than that. Grow up and solve this problem yourself.’
* * *
Henri snipped off the dead heads off the overblown roses with fierce strokes. Two days of Sebastian’s sulking and not a word from Robert. Sebastian kept making barbed remarks and then apologising as he was supposed to try to be an adult. Aunt Frances was not being any use in the matter, retreating to her library and assuming that Henri had somehow wronged Sebastian.
Robert’s silence bothered her. Twice she penned a note, only to toss it in the fire. Life would be easier if he wrote first. And Henri hated waiting. Even the various doings of village life held no interest.
In desperation, she tried reading the letters between Edmund and her, but they seemed to belong to another age. She barely recognised the girl who had penned the breathless declarations of love, and had stopped the exercise as pointless after reading the first six. Somehow along the way she’d stopped grieving for Edmund. She knew she’d always treasure his words, but they no longer sent wave after wave of racking pain through her being. As she carefully replaced the letters, she felt embarrassed, as if she was peeking into someone else’s life; it was the mundane detail about the dresses, parties and what he had had for dinner that held her interest rather than her overblown expressions of love and devotion.
The whole exercise seemed to make her think more about Robert rather than less—the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed and how his hands felt against her back when they danced, when they kissed. The maelstrom of passion that made her feel alive in a way that Edmund had never done.
To Marry A Matchmaker (Historical Romance) Page 14
