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‘Did you always enjoy ordering others’ lives for them, Lady Thorndike? Or did it grow on you?’
Henri caught her bottom lip between her teeth, considering the question. Was it her fault that she could see solutions where others saw insurmountable difficulties? But ordering people about—surely he couldn’t really think that’s what she did? She might make suggestions, some stronger than others, but she always allowed people to decide for themselves. She wasn’t like her mother, bitter and overly critical. She celebrated when people experienced joy. The challenge of improving people’s lives gave her life meaning.
‘I’m not overly domineering. My ideas are better than most and I simply possess a happy talent for organisation.’
His rich laugh rang out and Henri wondered if she was in fact being humoured. ‘You do have a unique perspective on it.’
‘It isn’t my fault if the vast majority of people fail to see how problems can easily be solved. A cool head and a calm manner counts for much in life.’ Henri gave a little clap of her hands before giving Mr Montemorcy a hard stare. ‘Will you concede under the terms of our wager that you have lost?’
‘On the balance of probabilities, I will admit defeat.’ A smile tugged at his austere features, transforming his face for a heartbeat into knees-to-jelly handsome.
Henri thought once more what a good husband he would make, if only he’d allow her to find the right woman for him. But he’d expressly forbidden it and Henri wasn’t prepared to take the risk and jeopardise their acquaintance, because his presence at any gathering made it all the more exciting. Often their exchanges ended with her pulse racing and her being filled with either a determination to prove him wrong, or the glorious bubbly feeling of being utterly right. And on balance, his being attached to some unknown miss would complicate those exchanges.
‘Say the words, Mr Montemorcy.’
Golden sparkles flecked his eyes. ‘Your aunt may excavate the Roman encampment. You have prevailed, Lady Thorndike.’
Henri clapped her hands. All night she had lain awake worrying. Would something happen at the last second and the marriage, with its garden wedding breakfast, have to be called off? Would Mr Montemorcy then renege on the wager?
For her aunt desperately needed an outlet for her energy. Ever since Henri could remember, her aunt had longed to excavate the Roman remains, and increasingly so since they’d been forced to sell the field to Robert. Whenever Henri had been about to give up with Melanie, she would think about her aunt’s eyes shimmering with pleasure as she learnt that Henri had secured the excavation for her.
‘There, it wasn’t too hard to admit you lost. You are far from infallible, Mr Montemorcy.’
‘Let me finish. It is a bad habit of yours—jumping to conclusions and overly complicating matters with emotion.’ He held up a hand, silencing her. ‘All social excursions to the site are forbidden. A scientific approach must be used at all times and your aunt must share all knowledge gained with me.’
Botheration. Henri worried the lace on her gloves. Mr Montemorcy had seen through her grand schemes and thwarted her after all! She had already had three picnics arranged in her head, complete with guests’ list, menu and seating charts. They were going to be the centrepiece of her new campaign to arrange at least one more marriage before the summer had finished.
She’d even found bits of Roman pottery from her aunt’s collection so that she could seed the site before the picnics took place. What could be more thrilling than a treasure hunt? Especially one where nothing was left to chance, where everything was perfect. And now this! Conditions from Robert Montemorcy about scientific approaches and the need to preserve the ground!
‘Nobody ever mentioned conditions,’ she muttered, scuffing the ground with her kid boot.
‘I’m mentioning them now. Before you won, there was little point.’
‘I don’t see why you object to social excursions such as picnics.’ She forced her voice to remain even. She would find a way around this new obstacle. There was a way around setbacks of this nature if she considered the problem hard enough. The happiness of others depended on it. ‘They are a wonderful form of entertainment. And I promise they won’t damage the integrity of the site.’
‘And the encampment is a valuable piece of history. It is on my land now. Under my stewardship. If your aunt wishes to excavate, she may, but she follows my methods.’
Henri adopted a smooth placating smile. Robert Montemorcy was being stubborn. She could see it in his eyes and in the tightening of his shoulders. Very well, for now, she’d give way on the picnics, but he would eventually agree once he realised that no harm would come to his precious scientific method.
