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“Then you may speak to me first as to whether it was my idea or his.” The words emerged sharper than she had meant them, and Andrew blinked.
“Henrietta...do not tell me...you haven’t…” He stumbled to a stop on the words.
“It was only modeling, at first, and a few harmless questions, to get to know him better. I wanted to be certain I had the correct advice for Eva when she approached him. But he was...well, he was entirely uncommunicative at first, and I was near ready to scream when I realized it was all deliberate on his part, that he was...he was teasing me with his taciturnity. After that, it was...amusing. And he was quite charming. Kind. Warm, for all that he attempts to be aloof and distant.”
She sighed. “And there was...he did not speak often of the war, of his time as a soldier, but when he did, there was such regret and distress in his eyes, such sorrow...he has been through horrors, I am certain. And his art, it is his way of coming to terms with things, creating beauty to replace ugliness in his mind, I suppose. And he has such skill, the way he works the stone—”
“Henrietta.” Andrew’s soft voice stopped her. His tea was set on the table beside his chair, and his eyes were solemn as he sat forward in his chair. “Henrietta, I’ll be the first to say I’m no expert in women’s hearts, but I do know you, darling sister. And it sounds as if you’ve come to have rather strong feelings for the Marquess.”
Something painful lodged in her throat, but she managed to force words past it. “I...oh, Andrew, you are correct. I have come to have a great deal of feelings for him. And yet...I have promised Eva I would match her to him. And I introduced myself to him under another name, so any feelingshehas are for the woman he believes me to be, not Lady Henrietta Stanton.”
Silence fell between them, and then Andrew sighed. “You know, Henrietta, I have admired you for how you handled yourself. After that rascal Dovington left you, I mean. What with making all that talk about a special license, and a small ceremony, only to make off for the continent two days before the wedding...with no proper notice and with one of your friends, no less! I ought to have followed the bounder and dueled him outright…”
He stopped as Henrietta laid a hand on his arm. “Andrew, the heart makes its own choices. I could have wished for a little more courtesy and discretion, but I shall not fault him for his feelings. I only hope he truly gave her all the affection and love I once thought he gave me.”
Andrew sighed and shook his head. “You’re too forgiving, and too much a romantic for me, dear sister. Regardless of that, I should have become a hermit myself, or married the first bluestocking spinster I could coax to the altar and then disappeared to the Continent, or the country, or even the blasted Colonies, had I found myself in the position you were in after that scandal. But no one can say you haven’t handled the matter with a great deal of poise and done well in rebuilding your reputation, even if it has been as a matchmaker rather a prospect for the marriage mart. Still, when all’s said…”
He shook his head again, his gaze gentle. “I have always wondered when it would backfire—this matchmaking business, I mean. You invest so much of your time and your energy and even your heart into these matters—I suspect mother, father, and I have all wondered when it would happen that you’d find yourself caught in your own trap. You cannot have expected to keep playing about in matters of the heart and never had your own placed at risk, you know.”
“I do know. But I had not thought...I thought it would never be more than a harmless passing fancy, perhaps. And I always thought, if I were to lose my heart, it would be under different circumstances. But…I cannot control my heart, and not even my skills as matchmaker or my friendship with Eva can change the truth.” She fought back tears. Andrew handed her his handkerchief and she twisted it in her fingers. “Andrew...how am I to manage? Shall I engineer his match to Eva when my own heart protests it? Or shall I break my word to a friend for my own selfish satisfaction? Am I to serve another the same embarrassment that I was served? And what of the Marquess? How am I to explain the matter to him? He will surely be quite angry.”
“That he will, and no question. There isn’t a man alive who likes being deceived in such a manner, not if he’s anything other than ice and misery in his blood. But the truth and fact of the matter is this, sister dear—explain, you must.”
“I...whatever do you mean?” Henrietta blinked, staring at her brother’s uncharacteristically somber expression.
“The heart of the matter is this, Henrietta—there is no way forward but to come clean. Match the man to Miss Darnell; seek his affection for yourself; or wash your hands and be quit of the affair altogether. None of it can be done without some revelation of the truth, or such is my perception of the matter.”
There was some sense to what her brother said. “That is very true. But what am I to…” She trailed off.
“To do about your feelings for the Marquess? Well, that’s a matter for you to decide yourself, I fear. I’ve no notion of how you might wish to manage that tangle. However, for whatever worth you might give my admittedly inexpert opinion on the matter…” He finished his tea, rose, and came across to put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You’ve a chance for your happiness, even amid the tangled coil you’ve managed to spin for yourself. I should hate to see you throw that away, even with your relationship to Miss Darnell and your position as matchmaker in the balance.”
Henrietta remained in her seat as Andrew left the room, mulling over his words as she sipped her cooling tea.
Andrew was not much for romance and engagements of the heart, hence his bachelor status, for all that he was some two years her senior. But he had a good heart and a good nature and could be possessed of a rare common sense when he chose to be. He might proclaim himself no expert in these matters, but there was wisdom in his advice. And truth as well.
There would be no way forward without some confessions on her part. And she did not want to give up all chance at happiness with Daniel, not even if pursuing it resulted in damage to her relationship with Eva, or the end of her occupation as a matchmaker.
Come tomorrow, she would find some way to tell both Eva and Daniel the truth.
She could only pray that there would be relationships left to continue after her revelations were aired.
CHAPTERNINETEEN
Henrietta rose early the next morning. She had not had the most restful sleep, but in light of a new day, she was more determined than ever that she should speak to both Daniel and Eva and lay out the matter, revealing all the secrets involved, however uncomfortable it might be/ Then she could only see what transpired. Anything would suit better than this guilt-ridden tangle of deception and half-truth.
Sarah brought her a tray with her morning tea, drew her bath and laid out her clothing. She disappeared on other errands, only to return as Henrietta emerged from the bath. “My lady, there’s a letter for you this morning.”
Odd. She did not expect any correspondence. She had concocted today’s excuse separate from Eva, before she had determined to tell her friend of her feelings for the Marquess, and she had not yet had any chance to send her card around for a visit.
Sarah handed her the note, and her heart skipped a beat at a familiar crest, one she had seen nearly every day for more than a week.
The Marquess of Salisbury.
But why would Daniel be writing her? He was no acquaintance of Henrietta Stanton.
Something cold settled in her stomach and stole any thoughts of breakfast or of dressing. She broke open the seal of the letter with hands that wanted to tremble and pulled forth the heavy stationery. The letter was penned in a heavy hand, easy to recognize, and the greeting alone was enough to induce icy dread. She forced herself to read the letter in its entirety.
To Lady Henrietta Stanton, Daughter of the Earl of Crawford,
