Page 61 of One Waltz with the Viscount

She could not believe how foolish she had been.

She needed to go. To pack her bags and leave London. It was the kindest thing she could do for Henry, even though her heart was breaking at the thought of never seeing him again. But she just complicated matters—if she was not there, he could make a decision about his future, and his sister’s future, without having to take a third person into consideration.

Tonight she would pack up her few possessions, and tomorrow she would enquire about a coach to Tunbridge Wells. From there it was not far to the house of the Huntley family. It would be difficult leaving, but eventually she would see it was for the best. In the quiet Kent countryside she could mourn the loss of her first love and slowly recuperate from the unbearable pain she was feeling.

Henry paced back and forth across the expensive rug in Lord Shrewsbury’s study. They had been cloistered in there for an hour, discussing recent events, but right now Henry felt no further forward.

After an agonising hour at home—where he had tried to come up with a way to salvage his burgeoning relationship with Sarah, and stop his father using his sister as a pawn against him—he had admitted defeat. Once he would have kept his despair to himself, but right now he would do anything to find a solution, so he had made his way to Shrewsbury House.

‘I can’t do it to her. She’s fourteen years old and he wants her to marry Lord Tutley.’

‘There is a chance he could push through the marriage, whether you propose to Lady Isabelle or not,’ Shrewsbury said.

‘Surely he wouldn’t.’ Henry closed he eyes, knowing that, despite his protest, his father could.

‘I do not mean to add to your distress, I merely wish to point out that, whatever you decide, it might not be the end of it. I would hate for you to sacrifice your own happiness for Sophia’s, only to find your father has tricked you.’

‘Why does he have to be such a rogue?’

‘He is beyond a rogue,’ Shrewsbury said. ‘Lord Tutley is not a pleasant marriage prospect for a fourteen-year-old, but the main objection is his age. I know he has been married four times, but I have not heard he is a cruel man, or unkind to his wives.’

‘There is something wrong with a seventy-year-old who wishes to marry a child,’ Henry said harshly.

‘You are right, of course. I thought only to say that we do not know how your sister has been living. It cannot be a pleasant existence, having her every move controlled by your father. Perhaps it would be wise to ask her what she wants. She might welcome a chance to get away from Lord Burwell’s influence, even if it is to marry Lord Tutley.’

Henry inclined his head. He could not see his sweet little sister ever voluntarily choosing to marry the old man, but Shrewsbury was right, he should seek her opinion, if he could find a way to gain access to her. The last time he had seen Sophia she had been nine years old. She was much older now, and would have opinions of her own.

‘What does Miss Shepherd think?’

‘She told me she loved me, and then said I had to do right by Sophia.’

‘A generous young woman then.’

Henry groaned. ‘Up until yesterday I had resigned myself to marrying whatever debutante would please my father. I would not have chosen one as young and naïve as Lady Isabelle, but I expect there is nothing really wrong with her. It just feels so cruel. I finally decide to open my heart again, and he manoeuvres the chess pieces on the board so I have no choice.’

‘You have a choice.’

‘Not one that I care to make.’ Henry let his head sink into his hands. Shrewsbury did not have any miraculous solutions to his problems, but it felt good to share the burden, even just a little. ‘I think you are right. I need to go and talk to Sophia.’

‘Your father will not let you in, not without an agreement from Lady Isabelle that she will marry you.’

Henry thought for a second, then grinned. ‘I have an idea. Will you come and distract my father and the servants?’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I know a good spot in the back garden where I can climb up to a first-floor window. No doubt there will be one open on a warm night such as this.’

‘You’re going to break into your father’s house?’

‘I am. I will break in, find Sophia and see my little sister again after all this time.’

Chapter Nineteen

The garden was in darkness as he slipped around the side of the house. He went to stand in the shadows of one of the tall trees a little bit away from the house. A candle flickered in an upstairs window, and another in his father’s study, but the rest of the house was dark and quiet.

Henry waited, assessing the best way up to the first floor. There was no handy wisteria here, as there had been at Shrewsbury House for Sarah to climb. Instead, he would have to rely on the grooves in the stone work and the window ledges.

After a few minutes he heard a loud knock on the door followed by the faint sound of Lord Shrewsbury’s voice. At first there was just a murmur, but as the seconds ticked by Shrewsbury raised his voice as they had planned, demanding to speak to Lord Burwell.