“Since when did you get a lucky button?”
Henrietta gave her a sheepish smile. “I’m afraid I panicked, and that was the only thing I could come up with.”
“Why did you panic?”
“Do you remember when I was at the ball and a gentleman helped me find a path out of the gardens?”
“I do.”
“Well, it turns out that Lord Charles was the one who helped me.”
Marjorie blinked. “Lord Charles Brooksbank was the one who helped you?” she repeated in surprise.
“He was,” Henrietta confirmed.
“Does Mother know?”
“She does not, and I would prefer to keep it that way.”
Marjorie laughed. “You have quite the conundrum.”
“I have no such thing,” Henrietta replied. “Lord Charles assured me that he plans to tell no one about what transpired in the gardens that evening.”
“And you believe him?”
Henrietta paused. “I do.”
“Then I shall refrain from threatening him.”
Henrietta laughed. “Pray tell, how would you threaten Lord Charles?”
“I would tell him that he’d better not tell anyone, or else,” Marjorie said.
“Or else what?”
Marjorie picked up her needlework from the table. “I will poke him with my needles until he bleeds.”
“I am sure that will evoke fear in him.”
Putting her needlework back down, Marjorie said, “I’m afraid I am not very good at threatening anyone.”
“If it helps, neither am I.”
“I guess our governess did not cover that topic during our lessons.”
“No, she didn’t,” Henrietta said.
Marjorie glanced over at the darkened window. “Are you excited about tomorrow’s ride with Lord Charles?”
“I am not.”
“No?”
“We are only joining you to act as chaperones.”
“That is not true,” Marjorie remarked with a shake of her head. “You have a very difficult job.”
“Which is?”
