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“She has other suitors?” demanded Sir John, feeling an unfamiliar surge of jealousy leap up in his chest. “Who?”
“Good heavens, I certainly do not know. No one in particular, from what I understand, as she has spent all of her time with you, or at least as much as can be considered proper. You do seem to be edging towards an understanding. White’s says that you are the clear winner of her heart.”
“Whites?” John interrupted. “I said I would not have the bet made known.”
“No. No. Of course not. It is only the general gabble of theTon,deciding who is matched with whom,” Henderson said motioning the footman over to their table. “The pigeon pie is delightful here, if a little plebian,” Henderson added as he ordered the same.
Sir John nodded. If not plebian, the dish was certainly French. A savory crust and tender meat were just what he needed to comfort his soul and remind him he was doing the right thing for his mother. He would be a good husband to Lady Charlotte. He would do his duty by both. “The pigeon pie and beetroot,” for me as well, he ordered.
“I would never share our business.”
Sir John relaxed at Lord Henderson’s explanation. “That is fine then. Of course, there are other gentlemen interested in pursuing her. She is rather magnificent.”
“For a childish, romantic fool, that is?” Lord Henderson asked slyly, giving his friend an arched look. Sir John flushed and looked rather shamefaced.
“She is no fool. I never said she was. Lady Charlotte is… difficult to define, I suppose I should say. Sheisresponding just as I predicted that she would, just as I said any young lady would, to my pursuit. But I find that I, myself, am confused,” he admitted.
“Confused? My dear boy, I believe you mean to say that you are falling in love with the woman.”
“Hardly. Love is an illusion meant to soften the practicality of marriage. I suppose I am experiencing some sort of fleeting infatuation, but you know perfectly well that such things do not last beyond a few weeks.” Even as he said the words, John knew they felt hollow on his tongue.
“I do not know that, I am afraid, so I cannot help you soothe your rumpled spirits by agreeing with you,” Lord Henderson countered, enjoying that his friend seemed so discomforted with his own feelings. They both paused as their dinner was delivered and they tucked in.
“Come now, Henderson,” Sir John protested as he cut his pie. “You must agree. The initial attraction always fades, no matter how intensely you feel it at the first. Can you honestly tell me you have felt something for a young lady that lasted longer than a short span of time?”
“As a matter of fact, I have,” Lord Henderson said calmly, to Sir John’s surprise. “And I have mistaken lust for love. The two feelings are distinct but often confused. Having experienced both, I know the difference, but my feelings are rather beside the point just now. You have not felt the emotion and so you are convinced that the thing is impossible simply because you have never experienced it for yourself. Rather unscientific of you, if I may say so.”
“Ifyou are right, which I do not say you are, so make no mistake on that count, but if you are right, it will hardly help you win the bet,” Sir John pointed out rather hotly.
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Ashbrooke, I am far less concerned with winning some foolish bet than I am with seeing my best friend happy. Else, I would have insisted that you pursue some sharp-tongued harpy, only to watch you lose.”
“I suppose,” muttered Sir John, subsiding a little. The both ate in silence for a moment. Lord Henderson’s mention of friendship made him feel unsettled on an entirely different level. Theyweregood friends, of course, but John could not help wondering what might become of that friendship if certain facts came to light, things he had very intentionally kept from everyone in his social circle. Henderson would probably deny ever knowing him beyond a passing acquaintance, he thought moodily. Everyone would, including Lady Charlotte, and that thought hurt him even worse. That was the trouble of getting close to anyone. You risked misery.
“Well now, you look even more wretched than you did when we began speaking,” Lord Henderson remarked, interrupting Sir John’s reflections. “Hardly a good recommendation for my skill at cheering people now, is it?”
“I do not want cheering, not precisely. The trouble is that I do not know what Idowant. I cannot seem to stop thinking about Lady Charlotte. She is a wild thing. She has bewitched my every thought and it is most uncomfortable.”
“Bewitched you, eh?” Henderson teased. “How, specifically?”
“Oh, I do not know. You ought to have seen her today, Henderson. We went for a ride in Hyde Park and her mount bolted. I thought it had run away with her entirely and my heart went to my throat with the fear that she might be hurt.”
Henderson nodded as he took another bite of the pie.
“I went chasing after the horse to come to her rescue.”
“That was the pair of you?” Lord Henderson interrupted delightedly. “Why, I have been hearing tales all afternoon of some wild couple galloping through Hyde Park like runaway highwaymen. Most unseemly, but rather thrilling all the same, has been the general consensus.”
“I suppose, I should expect nothing less than to be spoken of in such a way. Wedidmake something of a spectacle of ourselves. But you know, a runaway horse might happen to any young lady. A rabbit dashed across the path, and she could hardly be expected to have as firm a hand on the reins as a man. The thing of it was, though, I found that she had complete control of her mount almost instantly, but decided to gallop for the sheer joy of it.”
“Dear me, that was rather reckless of her,” Lord Henderson commented blandly.
“When I caught up with her, I expected she might be sobbing, in hysterics, or any other reasonable female reaction. I was already planning how to use that emotion to my advantage. There is nothing like being rescued from a dangerous experience to make a girl swoon, after all…”
“Oh, certainly, it would work quite beautifully. Really, Ashbrooke, you ought to take up being a playwright as a hobby. Blakely would produce anything you wrote and people might actually enjoy one of his shows for a change.”
“Very amusing,” Sir John said dryly, brushing the comment away. “My point is, the brilliant girl waslaughingwhen I caught up with her. Her eyes were sparkling and she looked like some glorious, fearless little Amazonian who had just had a splendid adventure. What, I ask you, is a man to do with that?”
“Most uncomfortable, I agree,” Lord Henderson said, trying to suppress his laughter.
