Fleur gripped the edge of the counter and leaned far over for a better look at the golden, heart-shaped ring. At its center, Mr. Rundell had crafted from emeralds, blue sapphires, rubies, pale pink topaz, and amethyst. Her breath hitched. “A rainbow,” she whispered.
Henry’s voice shattered her reverie. “What are your thoughts?”
“It is…magnificent,” she said, breathless with wonderment at the ring…that was absolutely not the one he held up for her inspection—a blue sapphire step-cut ring some three carats in weight and clustered by sixteen old-mine diamonds.
There was nothing wrong with it, but neither was there anything special about it either.
Reluctant to offend, Fleur picked her way carefully. “Do you believe yourbetrothedwill like it?” It took a bit to wrap her mouth around that word. Of a certainty, his future duchess would not tolerate Henry’s new friendship with Fleur.
“Women care more about the size and value of jewels than any sentimental meaning.”
Was he truly this unaware?
“That is not true, Henry—at all.” Or…an even more dreadful idea settled in. “Is your betrothed a lady who cares more about that than sentimentality?” She hated the lady already.
“I cannot speak to that.”
Then you should not be marrying her, you big lummox!
She drew a long, slow breath in through her nose and released it on a quiet exhale. Affecting a calm she didn’t feel, Fleur reached for the piece in question. A tingling, electric warmth spread from her bare fingertips to her palm at the brief touch.
Henry dropped a hip against the counter, folded his arms, and waited for her remarks.
Keenly aware of his focus, Fleur made a show of examining the gold, sapphire, and diamond ring; the whole while her pulse kept a quickened pace.
“Who is she?” she held the piece up towards the light. “Your betrothed.”
There, that came out casual, not too curious, definitely not over-eager.
“Undecided as of yet.”
Fleur’s heart settled into a more secure rhythm.
“I have a list,” Henry said.
A tight knot formed in her belly. “Alist?”
“With that tone, you sound like my brother,” he drawled.
“Thatmakes sense.” Fleur let her annoyance. “Jeremy is romantic and believes in love.”
“Do not remind me.” Henry angled his neck left to right and cracked his muscles.
He didn’t believe in love. She knew that, but to know he’d do something as heartless as make a list. This would not do. He needed her help desperately. His situation was even more dire than she could have ever imagined. Fortunately for Henry, he had Fleur as a friend.
With steadier hands, Fleur set the ring down on the crimson velvet tray. “I will help you.”
“Your thoughts on the ring?”
“That isn’t what I mean, Henry.” She spoke slowly as she did for all wee bairns and young lads and lasses. “I will play matchmaker between you and your eventual betrothed—”
“Absolutely not.”
“And give you guidance on how to woo her.”
His eyes glinted with amusement. “You believe I need to woo a lady to have her as my future duchess?”
“Every woman wants to be wooed, Henry.”
