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‘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 hardness 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.’
