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He leant over and twitched the paper away from her. It was covered in neat diagrams about how the flower arrangements should go, as well as a plan for the most expedient receiving line. Underlined and with exclamation points was the admonition that under all circumstances, the pugs must be restrained and not allowed on the dance floor.
Her lavender scent tickled his nostrils. He concentrated on breathing slowly, becoming more certain with each passing moment that he’d made a mistake earlier in giving in to temptation.
‘Henri, you should allow people to do things on their own. Is all this correspondence for the ball?’
She gestured towards another pile. ‘Those are for the ball. That lot over there is for the Ladies’ Aid Society as we were planning a whist drive and other entertainments to raise money for a fountain, and finally my instructions to my aunt on how to economise while I’m indisposed. If Aunt Frances is allowed, she’ll burn seven candles a night.’
Robert gave a low whistle, impressed at the sheer energy Henri possessed. ‘Why did you do it?’
‘To take my mind off my ankle and the possibility of infection. I have found if I’m doing things for others, then I’ve no time to think about my own predicament. It is by far the most effective remedy.’
‘Physical pain doesn’t go away if you bury yourself in work.’
‘What would you know about it?’
‘I’ve had my share of broken bones.’ He gave her a dark look. ‘Engineering and chemistry are not exactly safe occupations. Experiments can go wrong.’
Henri put her pen down and stared at him expectantly. ‘Continue. You have never said.’
‘They happened a while ago when I was younger. What other instructions have you sent your aunt?’ Robert picked up a page from the ‘home’ pile. He stilled as he read the injunctions to keep Sebastian away from the cucumbers as cucumbers were far too dear and under no circumstance was her aunt to pay any of Sebastian’s tailoring bills. ‘Has your cousin returned to Corbridge? When the Season is in full swing? I had understood he never returned here.’
‘Yesterday.’ She challenged him with a steely-blue gaze. ‘The gossip will have it that he is let in the pockets or some such nonsense, but you and I know differently. Sophie Ravel came to see me earlier. You kept the full story from me.’
Robert cursed under his breath. Sophie had foiled Dorothy’s scheme to keep the pair apart until he had extracted a promise from Henri, a promise she was sure to give as she wanted to win the blasted bet. To keep Sophie safe, he would dance and he would even sanction a picnic at the ruins. But now, it would be a fumble-fingered approach. ‘You should have told me about Cawburn’s arrival. It changes everything.’
‘And as you singularly failed to confide in me about Sophie and her predicament, why should I consider the need to tell you anything?’ she remarked, a smug smile playing on her lips. Henri was up to something. It bothered him that he hadn’t worked out what it was, but give him time and he would. ‘Sebastian is a cross I have to bear.’
‘You do remember our wager?’
‘Surely you are not suggesting that I would play matchmaker?’ Her eyes widened, but Robert wondered if it was a studied look. ‘Despite the provocation, I’m doing nothing of the sort. In fact, I wish to call an end to the ill-conceived idea. I do understand why you did it, but given that I’ll easily win being cooped up now. where is the fun in that?’
‘Where indeed?’ he murmured. ‘Very well. We will call a truce, Lady Thorndike, until you have recovered. I’ve no wish to make it easy for you. The wager is abandoned.’
She gave a brisk nod, but the tiniest of smiles played on her full lips. ‘Did you think Sebastian would remain in London? You should have known that he’d scamper up here once you removed his love.’
‘I misjudged the situation,’ Robert admitted reluctantly. ‘I’d not considered his devotion would be so great. You have always claimed that he’d rather be dead than north of the Humber.’
‘Now that’s a first—you admitting you’re wrong.’ Henri pressed her hands against her gown. First the handkerchief to clean her face and then Robert admitting that he’d made a mistake and readily agreeing to a truce. A lock of hair had fallen over his forehead. Her fingers itched to smooth it away. She struggled to breathe normally and wished her stays were looser.
‘Sophie wrote a letter to your cousin this afternoon. Her maid handed it to me. I suspect she was hoping to have it posted along with your notes and then have your aunt post it onwards, but now I realise she knew he was here.’
