“I may be confident in my skills as an archer, but I don’t boast about it.”
Charles lifted his brow. “You boast all the time.”
“Well, I haven’t boasted lately,” she clarified.
Roswell shoved back his chair. “If you will excuse me, I have a meeting at the House of Lords.”
As Roswell walked out of the room, Emma shifted in her chair to face Charles. “I think I may have a way for you to help Miss Henrietta.”
“How so?”
Emma glanced over at the empty doorway before revealing, “You should pretend to form an attachment with her.”
“How would that solve her problem?”
“Your reputation is above reproach,” she stated. “If you and Miss Henrietta started spending more time together, then the gossips would have something else to talk about.”
“I don’t know if it would be that simple.”
“Gossips are notoriously wishy-washy and thrive on pouncing on the latest news,” Emma explained.
“And if you are wrong?”
“Then you attempted to help Miss Henrietta, thus clearing your conscience.”
Charles leaned back in his chair. “How do you know Miss Henrietta would even be willing to go along with this plan?”
“What does she have to lose?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “I shall have to think on it.”
Emma snatched the plum cake off his plate. “Just don’t wait too long,” she encouraged before taking a bite of the cake.
7
HENRIETTA SATby the windows in the drawing room and enjoyed the warmth of the afternoon sun as she worked on her needlework. Her mother and sister had gone shopping and thought it best that she remain at home. Which was fine with her. She didn’t really enjoy shopping for ribbon with her sister anyway. Marjorie always methodically admired each and every piece of ribbon that she saw in the shop.
After she had left the breakfast parlor, Henrietta had spent time in the library, attempting to read away her woes. She wasn’t going to marry Mr. Drew, but her parents were quite set on the idea. What was she going to do? If she defied her parents on this, there was no telling what would become of her.
Why didn’t her parents recognize what a ridiculous idea this was? A union between her and Mr. Drew would be doomed to failure. She would much rather be a spinster for the remainder of her days than marry a man she didn’t love.
She heard the muffled sounds of her mother and sister’s return, and it wasn’t long before her sister stepped into the room and sat across from her. “How are you faring?” Marjorie asked with compassion in her voice.
“I am well,” Henrietta lied.
“I am sorry that you were unable to go shopping with us.”
Henrietta shrugged one shoulder. “Frankly, I didn’t mind staying at home.”
Marjorie reached into her pocket and pulled out a blue ribbon. “I convinced Mother to buy this for you,” she said. “I thought it would look lovely in your hair.”
“That was most thoughtful of you.” Henrietta set her needlework on the sofa next to her and accepted the ribbon. “This is beautiful.”
Glancing over at the door, Marjorie lowered her voice. “I spoke to Mother about your marrying Mr. Drew.”
“You did?”
Marjorie nodded. “I told her it was ludicrous to even consider marrying you off to some landed gentry.”
