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Cat’s brows pinched. “How?”
“Lord Russell.”
“What?” Cat stared at her with undisguised incredulity. “But—”
“He’s not so bad, really,” Harriett said, keeping her face straight with effort. “Not when I think of certain alternatives, anyway. I shall first thing in the morning send him an invitation to call on Monday.”
“But Papa—”
“Will be absolutely delighted to learn I have more than one option,” Harriett insisted. “He has been after me to start garnering male attention since before the start of the Season. Well, he is about to get his wish. I shall encourage Lord Russell to call this week and then begin gathering other candidates as quickly as possible. It is time I went on the hunt in earnest, Cat. I hope you will not mind.”
“Why would I mind?” asked her sister with a confused frown.
“We will be fishing from the same pond. Many a young lady has bemoaned having to compete with a sibling.”
But her sist
er only laughed. “We are two vastly different souls, Harriett. As such, I attract a very different sort of man than would be interested in you. I have no concerns that any prospective suitor of mine would be lured away by you. And if one does choose you over me, well, I should be far better pleased to learn of it before I become permanently attached to him.”
Harriett stared at her. “You know, don’t you? About Arabella.”
A much older woman looked back at her from Cat’s eyes. “Yes. She confided in me just before she left.”
“When she gave you the earrings.”
Her sister’s smile was faint. “Yes. And you need not worry. I shan’t tell a soul.”
“Thank the Lord,” Harriett sighed, relieved. “At least now I need not bear the weight of that knowledge alone.” She leaned close. “Now do you understand why I cannot encourage Manchester? We might be attracted to each other physically, but we are like oil and water in every other respect. To play such games with him would be asking for trouble of the worst kind.”
Cat nodded. “I do understand. But again I must tell you I think it would be more to your advantage to keep him close. Let him think he’s winning and he’ll lose interest. And anyway, you cannot stop him calling here under the guise of his new found friendship with Papa—unless you wish to tell him the reason why.”
Harriett’s heart sank. “That, I cannot do.” She looked at Cat and nodded. “Very well. I shall allow him to think he has cowed me—for the time being.”
It was an unpleasant compromise, to be sure, but it would buy her some much needed time. Better a tense peace than an all out war. She had to work fast and attract some serious suitors. Lord Russell would be the first.
Thirteen
As he entered his carriage, Roland savored the taste of sweet victory. He’d cornered the fiery dragon in her lair and had won the day. It was a rare triumph, considering the record thus far.
He knew he’d given Dunhaven false hope—the man had practically been beside himself at the prospect of ensnaring a duke for a son-in-law—but he could see no other way to manage Harriett. Based on her reaction to him at the Penworth ball, he’d concluded that if foul temper and brute intimidation hadn’t driven her away, perhaps their opposite would.
It was a risky gamble, but if it worked as he anticipated, he’d soon be free of her. As he’d said, he wouldn’t force her to leave, but he intended to make it the most palatable choice among her options. Judging by the look on her face tonight, he could almost count the days until she fled the place—and him. She’d be back with her family where she belonged, and he’d be able to get back to doing what he wanted without worrying about her getting in the way of it.
Her family. Now there was a mystery. Lady Dunhaven had died years ago in childbirth, so why hadn’t Dunhaven married again? Harriett had sisters, three of them. The eldest was married, but with three daughters still living at home, the man ought to have married again if only to provide a mother for them.
That sister of Harriett’s was certainly a piece of work—the guileful “Cat” could have beaten any one of Rich’s actresses for the leading role in one of his plays. He pitied the man who ended up saddled with the little wench. Poor fellow would likely never know a moment’s peace.
He suspected Harriett’s husband would never know a moment’s peace, either, though for very different reasons. He needed to be very careful. If all went well, she would surrender gracefully and he would reward her for her cooperation by letting her “rid” herself of him. If not, he might have to take it a step further. The idea of threatening her with asking Dunhaven for permission to court her was both strangely exciting and completely terrifying. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
Or do I? The quiet inner whisper surprised him. What would he do if he somehow accidentally ended up shackled to the woman? He would most definitely finish what she’d started at the Penworth ball, that much was certain. The dress she’d worn tonight had been a deliberate taunt. But would the pleasure of bedding her be worth a lifetime chained to a Fury?
The part of him that spoke from below answered an immediate and enthusiastic yes. If he was forced to marry her, he’d make certain she enjoyed their marriage bed along with him...but would she ever grow to like him?
‘Should you manage to win her affection, your ferocious Harriett will likely prove as ardent an ally as she is an unpleasant enemy,’ Rich had said—along with a lot of rot about humbling himself, apologizing, and earning her regard. But even if he did all of those things, would it be possible to make her like him after all that had transpired between them?
Marry Harriett. What foolishness! He already had a plan in place, it had just been set into motion, and he must stick to it if it was to succeed.
Tonight had been a reconnaissance foray, for he’d needed to know where things stood in the enemy camp. The real campaign would begin tomorrow. Dunhaven had let slip—on purpose, no doubt—that they would be attending the Earl of Sandwich’s hunt and ball tomorrow and that Harriett would not be riding as she had an aversion to the sport. She would keep company with several other ladies electing to remain at the manor.
