3
Edwards came in with a silver tray. “This arrived for you, Miss Henrietta. The messenger is awaiting a response. I sent him to the kitchen to wait.”
Henri grabbed the missive and slit it open She read the tidy, angular script.
Would you do me the honor of joining me for a walk in the park on the morrow at nine in the morning?
Yours, Charles Percy
Hmm, an intriguing development. She sat at her desk and wrote a note indicating her acceptance. With a grin, she placed it back on the salver. “You may take that to the messenger, Edwards. Thank you.”
The butler gave a bow of his head and left the room.
Peaches, the parrot, squawked from her cage. “Pish, posh! Pish, posh!”
Henri went over to her pet to work out some of the pin feathers. The bird bent her head forward to allow greater access.
“What was that all about, Henri?” Aunt Dorothy asked.
“An invitation for a walk in the park tomorrow morning with Mister Charles Percy.”
“You’ll take a maid. I’m not rising that early.”
Henrietta kissed the parrot on the head and set it back on the cage before walking over to her aunt and giving her a peck on the cheek. “Of course not, dearest Aunt. I could never inconvenience you so. I’ll take my pistol with me.”
Lady Grey’s eyebrows rose. “You walk a fine line, Henri. You should be chaperoned. Be nice to that young man.”
Batting her eyelashes as she sat, Henri grinned. “Whatever could you mean? I’m always nice to gentlemen.”
“You’ve always stayed within the bounds of propriety, but there is something about the way you react to his particular man that makes me wonder…”
“Wonder what?”
“Whether he is the one worthy of unlocking the door to your heart.”
“Balderdash and fiddlesticks.”
“Pish, posh! Balderdash and fiddlesticks!” Peaches echoed.
“Is it?” Lady Grey turned her attention to her book.
Henrietta bit her lip as she pondered her aunt’s comment. She didn’t want anyone other than God to have a key to her heart. She’d seen the pain and anguish so many times and had determined she would not fall prey to such foolish notions. Would she ever marry and have children? Likely not. But she had her groups in which she participated and ministry to the poor and wounded veterans, and at times she overheard important information she passed along to those who could use it. It made the frivolity of the season far more worthwhile, but would any man tolerate such an independent soul? Never.
She was all for marriage—for others. Like her brother, Marcus. He needed a wife to complement his work, support him, and be a refuge in the stormy political seas. Only he appeared as adverse as she at this point. Of course time always favored men. Women were on the shelf by age twenty, so she was already a long-in-the-tooth according to some of the gossips.
No matter. She only needed to please God, herself, and her family, and neither Marcus nor Jared were inclined to push her where she did not wish to go. They had known her long enough to realize it would be futile, anyway. She loved her brothers and was grateful for their understanding even though she knew her independence concerned them.
Jared had others things to worry about, being at war as an aide to Field Marshal Arthur Wellesley. She often wrote him bright, cheerful letters to remind him he was loved and that they looked forward to his safe return. So many families didn’t get that outcome. She prayed that God would grant them favor and that Jared would come back whole and hardy when the time came for his service to end.
She sighed and flipped open the pages to Shakespeare’s sonnets, but she soon couldn’t think straight for anticipation of her walk with Charles. Mister Percy. She was certain he’d lied to her, but to what purpose? That part intrigued her, but if she caught him out in the falsehood, any acquaintance between them would abruptly halt.
The thought unaccountably saddened her. She wanted to be proved right that he was something other than who he said he was, but to do so would be to lose the company of a man whose conversation pleased her—a rare feat for any man these days. His dashing appearance didn’t hurt, either.
She prayed for a dry morning. She rose to go to her room to select her gown for the evening ball and to plan her dress for the morrow. She was sure she could talk Aunt Dorothy into retiring early. It simply wouldn’t be right for her to look haggard for Mr. Percy, now, would it?
~*~
That evening at the Winchesters’ ball, Henrietta hid the fact that she was bored to tears and her feet ached.
Aunt Dorothy chatted with friends along the side of the room and Henri had finally grabbed some punch after refusing the offer from one of her attentive beaux.
“Hiding, are we?” a familiar voice whispered from behind her.
She pivoted. “Sir Michael! How good it is to see you. Back in England, are you?”
“Shhhh. You musn’t mention any of that.”
Chagrined she pushed out her bottom lip. “I thsorry.”
“You’re not two anymore, Henri. Are you engaged for this next dance?”
“I am not; however, everyone always stares at us when we dance together.”
“I’m not so much shorter than you that it makes a difference, my girl. Come. Tell me how Marcus fares.”
She accepted his hand, and he led her to the floor as the first chords of a dance began. Too bad someone like Michael didn’t strike her fancy. He was no more interested in marriage than she was. “My dear brother is currently at Rose Hill helping rebuild a tenant’s burnt cottage as the wife is due to give birth any day.”
“The ‘Virtuous Viscount’ strikes again, eh? How can anyone compare to him? Have you found him a suitable bride yet?”
“I’ve not made the attempt. Not that any of the women currently on the marriage-mart are worthy of my brother, mind you.”
“’Tis true. I’ve met no one his equal. So why does he keep me around?”
Michael expertly led her through the steps of the dance. Why had this man not been snatched up? In spite of his unfortunate birth, he was more the gentleman than many who frequented the ballrooms of London.
“You keep him from being too serious.”
“It’s a chore, but I’d do anything for him.” He winked.
“He is blessed in his friends.”
“Blessed? Not so sure about that. Lucky, perhaps.”
“Someday you’ll find the Lord worthy of your trust and your heart.” Henri whispered and then remained quiet for the rest of the dance. Lord, show Michael who You are so he could trust in You too.
When the music ended, he escorted her off the dance floor and into the area where a late supper was served. He found her a seat and brought a plate to her.
“Thank you. I was famished.”
“You’re welcome, Miss Allendale.”
When she was about to protest his more formal usage of her name he cast his gaze around the room.
“Oh.” She focused on her food.
“Any adventures lately?” he asked.
“Only being held at gunpoint by some ruffian on our way back to London. I was going to shoot him dead but someone came to our rescue and foiled his dastardly deeds before I could do so myself.” She huffed.
Michael chuckled. “I’m glad you were spared taking a life. It’s a hard thing to live with afterwards.”
“You’ve had to do so.”
“War is ugly. There’s not much more to say than that.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry to bring up bad memories. But I need to ask. Are you acquainted with a Mr. Charles Percy?”
He squinted as he frowned. “Perhaps, but I meet many people. He doesn’t stand out though. Why?”
“He was our rescuer the other day, and I’m to walk in the park with him tomorrow morning.” She watched Michael closely to gauge his reaction.
“I hope he is worthy of you, Miss Allendale. Will you be bringing your pistol in your reticule?” He smirked.
“Do you think I should?” She winked at him before sipping her punch.
“I do not. You should be safe enough in the park. I wish you someone worthy to love.”
“I’m not interested in love or marriage, as you are well aware.”
He grinned. “Prove me wrong, but somewhere inside that heart is a desire to be a wife and mother. And you’d be a great one.”
“It’s not worth the risk.”
“Risk of what?”
“The heartache when they are gone.”
“Seriously? You would deny yourself the pleasures—”
“And the pains—”
“Of marriage? Of being loved and cared for?”
“Marriage for love is an outlandish notion amongst the ton. All men desire when they see me is my dowry.”
Michael shook his head. “I think you much mistake the matter. They want far more than that. You’re a beautiful young woman.”
“Pish, posh. Balderdash and fiddlesticks. Your flattery won’t convince me of the truth of the matter. So maybe they want me for my ‘many charms,’ but that doesn’t mean they would love me.”
“What your parents had was rare, to be sure. I suspect that’s why Marcus has yet to step his foot in the parson’s mousetrap. You both hold out for love.”
“Is there something wrong with that?”
“No, but don’t rule out marriage simply because you haven’t found love yet. That God of yours will likely provide your heart’s desire in due time.”
“You’ll preach to me about a God you don’t believe in?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t believe He existed. I just don’t believe He’s personally interested in me.”
“Oh, Michael…”
Another beau approached.
Michael rose, took her free hand, and placed a kiss an inch above the gloved fingers. With a squeeze and a wink he let it go. “It was a pleasure, Miss Allendale.” He strode away.
Lord Edgerton came to take his place. As the man nattered on, regaling her with his latest hunting success, she watched Michael as he mingled before departing the room. You just wait, sweet knight, someday someone is going to hold your heart, and you won’t be pleased about it, either. Casting thoughts of him aside, she turned her attention to her suitor. As soon as she could, she excused herself to the withdrawing room and found her aunt. “May we leave? I’m fatigued.”
“But of course, my dear.” Lady Grey summoned their carriage.
When it arrived, the footman assisted them both inside the conveyance. “Did you enjoy your evening?” Lady Grey asked as the carriage began the short journey home.
“It was as any other ball. My one bright spot was Sir Tidley.”
“Sir Michael was here, and he failed to come and entertain me? I’ll share with him my displeasure when next we meet. How is he?”
“He appears well. Cheeky, serious, and an enigma.”
“Has he caught your eye?”
“Michael? Heavens, no! He’s like a brother to me.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing more?”
“Quite certain, and he feels the same about me. We are merely friends. If anyone were to marry Michael, I would have anticipated Katrina to be the one to do so. They spent much time together as children when he came down from university.”
“Didn’t hurt that his grandfather lived close by,” Lady Grey mused.
“Yes, but there was little affection between them.”
“A sad story. I’m glad you won’t be so easily swayed by good looks and charmed words, as his mother was.” Her aunt scrutinized her carefully.
“Let’s hope not.” The grey eyes of Mr. Percy, along with his grin, popped into her mind.
The carriage arrived. Upon entering the house both women ascended the stairs to their rooms. “Good night, Aunt Doro.”
“Good night, Henri.”