Henry paused, half turned to move along to the big parlour, where muffled, genteel conversation was drifting out of the half-opened door.
“Are… are the Fairfaxes here?”
William shot him an odd look. “No, of course not. This is Mother’s event, and you know how she feels about tradespeople.”
Henry’s heart sank. That in itself was a little worrying. He knew fine well that it was not Charles Fairfax he had wanted to see.
Stop it,he scolded himself, moving through into the main room.Eleanor made it very clear what she thought about you. She was hurt, angry, and cold, because she believes you’re here to replace her. And for all you know, that could well be Charles’ intention. The shareholders certainly think so.
He found himself recalling the rumour which had been hinted to him repeatedly over the afternoon – that he would marry Eleanor Fairfax and inherit the business. Of course, Henry had acted as if he had never heard anything so ridiculous.
What would I do if Charles proposed it?
Well, of course, Eleanor would never give her consent. I’m sure she dislikes me still.
Goosebumps rose up over Henry’s skin. Eleanor was clever, interesting, beautiful – far more beautiful than any other lady he’d seen, and Henry was at a loss as to why more people couldn’t see it – and he truly enjoyed her company.
I would marry her. I would.
The thought had barely taken root in his mind before the Dowager appeared, fluttering and happy in black silk and pearls.
“Henry, darling!” she chirped, and he bent down to kiss her powdery cheek.
“Good evening, Mother. How are you?”
“Oh, well enough, well enough. I’m looking forward to a properly genteel evening – the new parties and balls all seem sovulgar, don’t you think? All that waltzing. Well, come on through – we’re just taking our places at the dinner table now. Did you hear that poor Alexander is ill? What a pity, he does so enjoy cards. Never mind, never mind.”
The Dowager chattered on, allowing Henry to escort her into the dining room. The long table was set for an elaborate supper, and guests mostly seemed to be older, genteel ladies and gentlemen, lords and ladies and titled people.
And, of course, Lord and Lady Redford and their wretched daughter.
Henry’s heart sank when the Dowager walked him to his place, directly beside Miss Sophia Redford.
The girl smiled coyly up at him, clearly pleased with herself. The Dowager shot a knowing look up at Henry and muttered something about ‘leaving the young people alone’.
Then she was gone, and Henry was left to sit beside Sophia and try and make polite conversation.
“I have brought my harp tonight, Lord Henry,” Sophia whispered conspiratorially. “I can play the pianoforte too, of course – you’ll recall that we discussed this before – but I think you will enjoy my harp playing.”
“I look forward to it,” Henry managed. “My mother’s parties are always so genteel.”
Genteelfelt like a polite way of sayingdull.
Henry remembered how parties had been when his father was alive. Nobody else was allowed to have any influence on things like the guest list and the entertainment, not even the Dowager. She would have to arrange it all, naturally – the food, the decorations, and so on, and if the party was not anabsolutesuccess… well.
Some of Henry’s earliest memories were of an empty house after midnight, guests long gone, and his father’s voice bellowing angrily through the silence, his mother’s weeping following it. Henry remembered crouching on the stairs, ashen faced, wondering just what his mother had done, whatfaux passhe had made to make his father so angry.
He remembered how the servants would scurry around, cleaning up and restoring the house to its perfect state. They would keep their heads down, lips tight, faces pale, going about their work in absolute silence.
“What did I say about blancmange, you stupid woman? Absolutely not, I said! You thought you could sneak it onto the table, didn’t you? Behind my back!”
“Darling, I am sorry, only Lord and Lady Everett specifically requested…”
“I don’t give a straw for Lord and Lady Everett! I am master of this house, and what I say goes! I will not have anyone – not my wife, not my children, not anybody – defying me! Is that clear?”
“Lord Henry?”
Henry flinched, blinking. He was an adult again, the dark staircase was gone, and there was no shouting.
