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His bulk hid her from Sebastian’s triumphant gaze and Henri used the few heartbeats to regain control of her emotions. There had to be some way that she could reason with Robert and make him see. It was marriage in general she was against. She enjoyed Robert’s company too much to marry him. She did not want to risk losing him. And there were so many ways she could lose him—death, boredom and even to someone else as her mother had lost her father. Her heart stopped. But she also risked losing him if they did not marry—so was loss inevitable? But which way would hurt less? Was it the hurt she feared? And what about the love she felt for him? Henri tried to concentrate and to think logically.
‘I am not sure I should let you, Montemorcy,’ her cousin said. ‘Your being alone with Henri is what brought us to this impasse, as it were. In good conscience, can I be that derelict in my duty?’
‘You will allow me to speak to Henri.’ Robert used a slow voice that allowed for no dissent. ‘You know my intentions are honourable, Cawburn.’
‘I’ll wait with Grace,’ Sophie said. ‘There is no need to fear, Robert. I have decided to be the model of decorum from here on out. I have no wish to experience an abduction again. They are beastly uncomfortable and inconvenient. I wonder why popular novels make them seem so exciting. They make you miss your tea.’
‘Always the practical one, Sophie. I look forward to the new Sophie,’ Robert said with a laugh. ‘It will make your stepmother’s head rest easily at night. All she wants for you is to be a happy and respectable young woman.’
Sophie stopped and kissed Henri’s cheek. Her eyes sparkled. ‘I’m pleased we’re to be in each other’s life after all, but I do think you could have told me before about the secret engagement. When did Robert ask you?’
‘He hasn’t,’ Henri ground out, ignoring Sophie’s startled exclamation. ‘I have not had the opportunity of refusing the offer.’
Henri practised counting to ten while she waited for the room to empty. Robert, to her annoyance, appeared to be enjoying her anger. When Sebastian left, he shut the door with a decisive click.
‘How could you do this to me?’ Henri asked. ‘How could you declare to all the world that we were getting married? You have not even asked me.’
‘You might at least wait for the explanation, Thorndike.’ A muscle twitched in his jaw.
‘Why? It won’t change my answer.’ Henri kept her head upright. She would be dignified. He was being forced into this, just as she had once forced Edmund. Just once, she’d liked to be asked first. ‘Forced marriages are always a disaster.’
‘We must speak, Henrietta. Sensibly. Without you flying into a rage. Consider for a moment the alternative. Do you truly want that? More to the point, do you think I would have arranged this, any more than you arranged the note? You spoke of trust and trust must run both ways. Do you trust me?’
‘Trust you?’ Henri froze. He was right—she had behaved precisely in the same fashion that he had. She had chosen the fear instead of waiting for the truth. She swallowed hard. ‘Marriage wasn’t in my plans. I explained that.’
‘Then what is,’ he asked softly, ‘now that we both know it will be impossible to keep our relationship a secret? Plans can change, Henri.’
Henri thought about the alternative. A life outside the confines of society—one of late mornings, decadent afternoons and sensuous evenings. No longer would she be forced to call on women who were more interested in gossip than people. She could behave exactly how she pleased without trying to be good. She wouldn’t have to be interested in what people did. Or have the satisfaction of seeing how her schemes improved people’s lives. Conventionality was not morality, but it was comforting.
The anger fled from her, leaving her shoulders bowed down by sadness. The dream that she didn’t dare speak was for ever gone. She wanted Robert to marry her for the right reasons, not to save some reputation that didn’t matter a jot in the grand scheme of things.
She wanted to beg him to sweep her into his arms and whisper that he had always intended to ask her. Instead he glowered at her and allowed the silence to grow.
‘This is a dreadful mess,’ she said when her body screamed for her to do something and stop the dreadful silence from pressing down on her. ‘There must be a way around this coil.’
‘Must there? Your cousin is a determined and desperate man. You were right. I have come to regret harassing him about his debts. Your ideas are at least equal to mine. I did overcomplicate matters.’
