AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Oh, she has made that obvious many times.”
“I am sorry then.”
No, it was for the best that she didn’t want to marry him, but he didn’t tell Simon that bit. As his brother left, Harry finished his coffee. Jenkins bought in a post that had just arrived. Harry ran his finger over the neat script of his name, wondering why Louisa would write to him.
He read the note, crumpled it up and hurled the offending missive into the fireplace. Louisa had the nerve to thank him for introducing her to Collingwood and told him how much she’d enjoyed dancing with Collingwood last night. Not one mention of their kiss. As if it never happened.
As it shouldn’t have happened.
At least one of them had good sense. Harry walked to his study to send a quick reply thanking Louisa for the introduction to Miss Bigby, and while a sweet, young lady, she was not the type he was looking for in a duchess. And that he hoped Louisa would have someone to introduce him to at the Marchtons’ ball tomorrow night.
LOUISA WALKED TO THE salon after sending off a note to Harry. Emma had read the letter before Louisa sent it and agreed the tone should make him particularly jealous. A part of Louisa wished she didn’t have to play these games with him. There had to be a way to make him realize what he wanted was right in front of him.
Maybe it was her fault for not seeing him in this manner years ago. If she had, he’d never have gone to India. Never would have fallen in love with Sabita.
Never had Charlotte.
What a dreadful thought! He needed that little girl, and she needed him. Louisa had never been one to believe in fate and love, until lately. But perhaps it was fate that sent him to India so that he could have Charlotte. Fate that made her not realize until now how perfect Harry was for her.
Fate? Predestination was a ludicrous thought only for the romantics of the world.
Louisa set her shoulders, no more thinking about what might have been. He was here now and unmarried. And she had every intention of making the most of the situation.
As she strolled into the salon, she found her mother reading a letter with a deep scowl lining her face. “Is everything well, Mamma?”
“No, it is not.”
“Oh?” She sat down across from her mother close to the fire. “What is wrong?”
“I have received a letter from Lady Huntley. She and Lady Gringham noticed you returning from the terrace last evening followed by Worthington only a minute later. Lady Gringham mentioned to Lady Huntley how you were at Northwood Park when she arrived. And that she never met your companion.”
Her mother crumpled the note and stared at Louisa. “How could you be so foolish? And why did you not mention the most important fact that the Gringhams were at Northwood Park?”
Louisa closed her eyes for a long moment. “Mamma, the duke and I are strictly friends. He noticed me leave the ball and feared for my safety. We spoke for a few moments and then returned to the ball.”
“When will you remember, it only matters what people imagine might have happened?” Mamma dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “What will Lord Bolton do when he hears this awful news?”
Louisa doubted Lord Bolton would do anything. But Lady Bolton would need to be appeased. The Boltons were an ancient family, tracing their roots back to the conquest. Lady Bolton had been the daughter of an earl of a similar lineage.
“Mamma, send a note back to Lady Huntley and explain that His Grace thought I looked ill and came outside to ascertain that I was well. And let it be known that my companion was ill with a fever when we stopped at Northwood Park, which is why Lady Gringham never met her.”
“Oh Louisa, you make this seem so easy.” Her mother twisted her handkerchief in her hands. “But you know how gossip takes on a life of its own. I fear this may bring shame down upon us.”
More shame than a dead father being released from prison? She would never forgive her mother for that lie. Nor would she forgive him for stealing money from the bank he worked at in Cornwall merely to give Tessa a Season.
“Only if we let it.” Louisa sighed as she stared at the fireplace.
“Mrs. Drake, Lady Bolton is here,” a footman announced.
Her mother’s eyes widened. “Oh dear, send her in. Louisa, you should leave.”
“It might help if I stayed,” Louisa commented. “After all, I was the reason for the gossip and should have the ability to defend myself.”
“Well said, Miss Drake.” A large woman dressed in black bombazine entered the room with a huff. Her graying hair was up in elaborate curls that would better suit a woman of much younger years. “Mrs. Drake, I do believe your daughter should explain her case to me.”
“Lady Bolton,” Louisa said with a curtsy. “Welcome to our hom
e.”
