It didn’t seem possible, but Henrietta’s eyes seemed to sadden further. “My father doesn’t believe anyone will want me once the word gets out that a man was in my bedchamber,” she whispered.
“That is not true.”
“Isn’t it?” she asked. “Mr. Drew knew precisely what he was doing when he walked into my bedchamber.”
“You mustn’t let him get away with it.”
“My father is adamant that I must go through with the wedding, despite my objections,” Henrietta shared dejectedly.
Charles placed his hand on her sleeve. “We will figure this out,” he paused, “together.”
She grew silent. “Why would you wish to help me?”
“I suppose I have grown rather fond of you.”
“You have?”
A smile came to his lips. “I don’t know why you sound so surprised,” he said. “You have quite a pleasant disposition.”
“As do you.”
He chuckled. “I have never been told that before.”
She returned his smile. “Thank you for making me feel better. I was just sitting here wallowing in my own self-pity.”
“We couldn’t have that, now could we?”
Henrietta’s eyes roamed his face, and he saw the moment they darted to his lips. That was all the encouragement he needed. He leaned in, and he could feel her warm breath on his lips. As he closed the small distance and pressed his mouth to hers, he felt someone grab his arm from behind him.
“Get your hands off my fiancée!” Mr. Drew shouted before he reared back and punched Charles in the jaw.
Charles staggered back and put his hand to his reddened jaw. He rose to his full height, balled his hands into fists and brought them up in front of him.
Mr. Drew advanced towards him, but this time, Charles was ready. He punched him in the face, and Mr. Drew fell to the ground.
“Stop this at once!” Henrietta ordered.
Charles put his fists down to his side. “My apologies,” he said. “I would have preferred if you hadn’t witnessed that.”
Henrietta approached him with a concerned look on her face. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” he said.
Mr. Drew huffed from his spot on the ground. “I see how it is,” he said. “You don’t even ask how your fiancé is.”
“You aren’t my fiancé,” Henrietta remarked over her shoulder. “As I have told you before, I am never going to marry you.”
“Then you will be furious to discover that your father signed a marriage contract on your behalf this morning,” Mr. Drew said smugly.
Henrietta spun around to face Mr. Drew. “You are lying.”
Mr. Drew wiped at the blood coming out of his nose. “Why would I lie about such a thing?” he asked.
“It changes nothing,” she said. “I won’t marry you.”
Mr. Drew rose and wiped the dust off his dark trousers. “Your father and I feel that it is in your best interest that you are removed from Society and live in the countryside.”
“With you?” she asked, placing a hand on her hip.
