A fresh wave of sadness filled her. For him. His eventual betrothed. That accounted for the peculiar feeling in her own chest.
They fell into silence and side-by-side perused the other rings.Hedid. Fleur merely pretended.
Henry asked the attendant to see a piece.
And then the very worst thing happened. With a sick sensation, she stared as young Mr. Rundell brought forth the ring Henry wished to examine up close.
His focus remained on the exquisite heart-shaped ring in a collection of vibrant gems.
Her throat moved rhythmically. After this day, she would never see a rainbow the same. They would always harken back to this place where Henry had kissed her tenderly and made himself a servant for her, putting her coiffure to rights.
She had never hated England and Scotland’s fickle weather more.
“Henry?” she asked, her voice oddly thick.
“Hmm?”
“Since we are friends, it really makes sense you share your list with—”
“No.”
She frowned. “But—”
“Your opinion on this one, Fleur?” With thumb and forefinger, Henry held the heart-stoppingly beautiful piece aloft.
It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life, so beautiful she wanted to weep. It reminded her of throwing prisms from her fingertips around Rundell and Bridge’s, and a memory she would carry for—
“Fleur?”
She swallowed around a lump in her throat. “If you are unwilling to share the ladies’ names, Henry, then I am afraidI cannot offer suggestions on the ring those prospective ladies might wear. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have already attended to my business, and I shall leave you to yours.”
Fleur dropped a curtsy and left Henry glowering in her wake.
Chapter 12
“Yet he was jealous, though he did not show it, For jealousy dislikes the world to know it.”
Don Juan: Canto I, Stanza 65
Lord Byron
What madness had possessed him to kiss Fleur at Rundell and Bridge’s?
The same question plagued him still three days later in the ballroom of her sister and brother-in-law, Lord and Lady Winfield. Fleur had kissed him eagerly, hungrily, and without any restraint, then immediately after snuggled herself into his arms. Only to then stomp off in a huff, without ever sharing with Hart her sweetheart’s bloody name.
Hands clasped behind him, Hart did his best not to look at the wild throng directly across from him on the other side of the dance floor. “Well?”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific,” his man-of-affairs, Kilmartin, drawled. “You’ve got me seeing to all manner of business these days.”
Heat climbed his collar. The hell he needed clarification. “You’re paid to know precisely what I’m talking about.”
“Rundell would not break the lady’s confidence,” Kilmartin said, confirming he had known the exact matter being referenced. “Also had some choice things to say about your expecting him to blather about his clients’ business.”
“I bet he did,” he muttered.
“You don’t pay me enough for the work you expect, Hart.”
Hart skimmed his gaze over the same large crush of guests. “As your father’s spare, you love bossing people around for me. I tolerate more from you than I ought.”
