“Pity,” Featherstone remarked, rising. “I have enjoyed our little chat, but I’m afraid I am needed elsewhere.”
“Insufferable man,” Brixton muttered as Featherstone walked away.
Roswell tossed back the rest of his drink. “I concur,” he replied. “I do not like how he spoke about my wife.”
“Perhaps I should challenge him to a duel and be done with it,” Brixton stated.
“Only men who have nothing to lose engage in duels,” Roswell said. “You must beat Featherstone at his own game and convince Miss Whiston to marry you.”
“Don’t you think I’m trying?”
“Try harder,” Roswell responded.
Charles pushed back his chair and rose. “I believe it is time I retire,” he said. “Tomorrow is an important day, and I don’t want to stay out too late.”
Brixton chuckled. “You have turned into an old man already.”
17
HENRIETTA STAREDup at the ceiling as she laid in bed. Today was her wedding day. She’d had the most fitful night of sleep as she wrestled with the thought of not going through with the wedding. She had no desire to trap Charles into marriage with her. That wasn’t fair to him.
If she didn’t marry Charles, then she sealed her fate as a spinster. She would be banished to the countryside, becoming a strain on her family’s finances. She doubted she would ever be able to show her face again in Society without being accompanied by stares and whispers.
The door opened and Abigail stepped into the room. “Good morning,” she greeted in a cheery voice. “How did you sleep?”
“Awful.”
Abigail gave her a compassionate look. “That is to be expected.”
“Is it?”
“I have never been married, mind you, but I have been told that the night before your wedding can be rather nerve-wracking.”
“What if I am making the wrong choice by marrying Lord Charles?”
“I’m afraid I cannot answer that,” Abigail replied. “Only you can.”
“He swooped in and saved me from marrying Mr. Drew, but I can’t help but wonder if he will come to regret his decision.”
“Have you spoken to him about how you are feeling?”
Henrietta shook her head. “I don’t dare.”
Abigail lifted her brow. “And why is that?” she asked. “After all, you two are engaged.”
“That is true, but I dread having such a difficult conversation.”
“I’m afraid that will need to change once you marry Lord Charles,” Abigail said. “You can’t hold back a part of yourself from your husband.”
“You are right, of course.”
Abigail walked over to the dressing table and patted the chair. “We should start preparing you for the day.”
Henrietta tossed off the sheets and stepped out of bed. She walked over to the dressing table and sat down.
Abigail picked up a brush and began to brush her brown tresses. Once she finished, she put the brush down and picked up some pins. “It shall all work out,” she encouraged as she started pinning up her hair.
“How can you be so sure?”
