“You already know my answer.”
“You would say to marry for love.”
“Precisely,” Henrietta said.
Marjorie gave her a knowing look. “Are you marrying for love?”
Henrietta shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I am, but I cannot say the same for Lord Charles.”
“Have you asked him?”
“Good heavens, no! That would be much too brazen for me.”
“Even though you are engaged to be married to him?”
Henrietta pressed her lips together before admitting, “He did kiss me.”
Marjorie perked up. “When was this?”
“In the gardens, right before he and Mr. Drew engaged in fisticuffs.”
“I see that I correctly assumed that they were fighting over you.”
“That they were.”
Marjorie clasped her hands together. “How romantic,” she sighed wistfully.
“It was anything but.”
Marjorie lifted a brow. “I don’t believe you.”
Henrietta glanced over at the doorway and lowered her voice. “If you must know,” she confided, “it was rather romantic.”
“I knew it!” Marjorie exclaimed. “So why would you doubt that Lord Charles cares for you?”
“He did confess that he held me in high regard, but that was only after he discovered my plight,” she said. “I can’t help but think he is marrying me just so I won’t have to marry Mr. Drew.”
“Why would that matter?” Marjorie pressed.
Henrietta arched an eyebrow. “Pardon me if I want my fiancé to actually want to marry me.”
“No sane man wouldn’t want to marry you.”
“That is kind of you to say, but we both know that isn’t true.”
Marjorie eyed her with sympathy. “Lord Charles is a good man,” she said. “You could do much worse than him.”
“Like marrying Mr. Drew?”
“Exactly,” Marjorie agreed. “Anyone is better than Mr. Drew.” She smiled.
“That is true, but—”
Marjorie cut her off. “You are overthinking this, and I tire of going in circles with you.”
Henrietta huffed. “I do not know why I confide anything in you.”
“Because I am your sister, and you love me.”
