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‘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.’
