Mr. Drew directed his comments towards her father. “Henrietta and I are in love, and we wish to be married at once.”
“That is not the least bit true!” Henrietta cried. “Mr. Drew snuck into my bedchamber hoping to entrap me.”
“No,” Mr. Drew said, “I came to declare my feelings for you.”
Henrietta gestured towards the glass and flowers on the carpet. “He threw the vase at the wall to wake you all up.”
Her father lifted his brow. “Is that true, Mr. Drew?”
“I admit that I threw it in a fit of passion,” Mr. Drew said, “but that was only because Henrietta was spouting nonsense.”
“Such as?” her mother asked.
Mr. Drew glanced over at her. “She was adamant about running off to Gretna Green, and I needed to rein her back in.”
“I said no such thing,” Henrietta asserted.
Her father glanced between them, and a frown marred his features. “It matters not. You two will be married at once.”
“No, Father!” Henrietta exclaimed. “I won’t marry him!”
“You were discovered with a man in your bedchamber,” her father said. “That is not something I can overlook.”
“But he snuck into my bedchamber,” she attempted.
“You should have slept with the door locked.”
Her mouth dropped in disbelief. “You are blaming me for this?” she asked. “He was the one who snuck in here and threw the vase.”
Her father shook his head. “It makes no difference now,” he said, pointing at the ground to emphasize his point. “You will not fight me on this.”
She opened her mouth to continue arguing when her mother interjected, “Perhaps we should continue this conversation after we are all properly rested and there are no listening ears around.”
Mr. Drew nodded. “I think that is a splendid idea.”
Her mother shot him an annoyed look. “Would you kindly leave my daughter’s bedchamber now?”
After Mr. Drew left the room, her mother approached the bed. “Don’t give up hope,” she whispered. “I will try to talk some sense into your father.”
Henrietta watched as her family left her bedchamber, closing the door behind them. She couldn’t believe that Mr. Drew had done something so conniving to force her hand in marriage. How could he be that unprincipled?
Either way, she had no intention of ever marrying that man.
Henrietta sat on the settee in her bedchamber as she watched the fire crackle in the hearth. She was trying to garner enough strength to go down to speak to her father. She knew it would be a most difficult conversation, and she was dreading it.
Her parents couldn’t force her to marry Mr. Drew, there were rules against that, but they could disown her. She would be forced to work for her income, but that still was a better alternative than marrying Mr. Drew. He was a blackguard, and she refused to let him win.
Perhaps her father had calmed down and would speak with her rationally. She sighed, knowing there was little hope of that. Her father was set in his ways, and she knew he would not back down. They were a lot alike in that way.
A knock came at the door.
“Enter,” she ordered.
The door opened and Abigail stepped into the room. “The glass and flowers have been disposed of,” she informed her.
“Thank you for tending to that mess.”
Abigail walked further into the room. “How are you faring?” she asked.
