“I am pleased to hear that,” Roswell replied.
Brixton turned his expectant gaze back towards Charles. “Will you come with me?”
“I will not.”
“Why not?”
“For what purpose?” Charles asked. “So I can help you engage in small talk?”
Brixton approached him and pulled out a chair. As he sat down, he said, “I find Miss Whiston to be rather intriguing, and I don’t want to say something stupid.”
“You will, just by opening your mouth,” Charles joked.
Brixton grew solemn. “I haven’t called on a girl since Miss Tooper, and we both know how that ended.”
Charles sighed. “Yes, we do.”
“How did that end?” Roswell asked, glancing between them.
Brixton winced slightly as he explained, “I called on her and we had a wonderful tour of her gardens. After we stepped back inside, I blurted out that I was falling in love with her.”
Roswell lifted his brow. “Were you?”
“I don’t rightly know,” Brixton replied. “But after that, Miss Tooper stopped receiving me, and it was rather uncomfortable whenever we would see one another.”
“I can see why,” Roswell muttered.
Charles pushed back his chair and rose. “I will go with you to visit Miss Whiston, but you owe me.”
“Thank you,” Brixton said, rising. “You won’t regret helping me.”
“I am not entirely sure that is true.”
His mother interjected, “If I recall correctly, Miss Whiston is the eldest daughter of Lord and Lady Finsbury.”
“You are correct,” Brixton responded.
“That is a fine family,” his mother said. “I have yet to meet Miss Whiston, but I have heard she is quite accomplished.”
“That she is,” Brixton agreed. “Which is why I need Charles’s help to not sound like a blabbering idiot.”
Roswell chuckled. “I wish you luck, Brixton.”
“Thank you.” Brixton turned to Charles. “My coach is waiting out front.”
“Lead the way,” Charles replied.
After changing out of her riding habit, Henrietta departed from her bedchamber and walked down the stairs. Her ride had taken much longer than she had anticipated, and she hoped that she wouldn’t get a reprimand from her mother.
How she dreaded sitting in the drawing room as her mother and sister received callers. She was expected to sit politely and work on her needlework. It was exhaustingly boring, and quite frankly, she tired of how men would fall all over themselves to earn Marjorie’s approval.
Marjorie had had many suitors over the years, but she had yet to accept an offer of courtship. When Henrietta had asked her sister about why this was, the answer was always vague.
As she walked across the entry hall, she heard the sound of a man chuckling. Drat. She had been hoping to find her mother and sister alone. She stepped into the room and saw two gentlemen sitting across from her sister.
She was about to apologize for her late appearance when she noticed that one of the men looked familiar. Her heart dropped as realization dawned. It was the gentleman who had assisted her the night before.
She let out a slight gasp as she crouched down behind a camelback settee, hoping no one saw her enter the room. But she wasn’t so lucky.
