Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“But you do mean to rivet ’im,” Mary Ann said. “Don’t ye?”
She handed over Celestina. Henrietta tossed the cloth over her shoulder, elevated the infant, and rubbed her back. “Why should I?”
Clarinda looked up from her sewing. “Why not?” she asked curiously.
Lady Mama looked the picture of serene maternity as she sat embroidering a baby blanket of the softest, finest linen, with her beautiful girls dispersed about the family parlor at their favorite activities.
Matilda stitched her sampler, Amelia sorted the silks in her mother’s basket, and Sophia was busily winding thread as fast as Charlotte, who was chortling with glee, could unravel it.
Henrietta cradled the fussing babe. Darien’s confession had rattled her almost as badly as his injury.
That kiss had been divine, delicious, and a trap.
Why should he want to marry her, plain Henrietta Wardley-Hines, when he could have any woman in London?
In all of Britain. All the world. Did he think winning her in marriage would bring Uncle Pell to his side in the matter of his father’s suit?
“Perhaps he was attempting to stir a different scandal, to lessen talk about my time in the watch house,” Henrietta said. “Whatever he wants, I can’t imagine it’s me.”
Don’t leave me, he’d said, his eyes burning with anguish.
“’E’s very ’andsome,” Mary Ann said, wide-eyed.
She’d peeked in when Henrietta checked that her patient was sleeping.
Darien had been lying perfectly still, his mouth closed, his face turned up.
Henrietta’s heart ceased beating until she’d laid a hand on his chest and felt the gentle rise and fall.
He also felt very warm, and she feared fever.
“Not a reason to wed,” Henrietta said.
“But you did enjoy the kiss,” Clarinda said.
“Still not sufficient reason.”
She could not explain that odd, indelible pull that made her lose her head and kiss him.
From the moment she’d peered into his eyes in the Ellesmere gallery, he had abandoned the mask with her.
It was an intimacy all its own, seeing his true self—his grandiose dreams, his loyalty to his family, the grief and useless self-blame he wore like heavy chains.
He had entrusted her with his secret, and now he was entrusting her with his life. But what did he want from her? And could she afford the consequences if she trusted him in return?
Clarinda’s soft mouth curved. “Give me that baby.” She took the tiny bundle and, as if the infant were a bolt of cloth, flipped her on her belly and gave her a firm tap between the shoulder blades with the side of her hand. Celestina belched and sighed.
Henrietta collected her charge. “She’ll sleep now for a while, Mary Ann. Go have a lie-down yourself. We’ll find you when she’s hungry.”
“Aye, I could stand a few winks at that,” said Mary Ann, wandering off with a yawn.
“Mary Ann looks much better,” Clarinda said softly, watching her go. “You did the right thing, Hetty.”
“Not by her son.” Henrietta sat on the carpeted floor in a pool of skirts.
“That cannot be helped now, alas. But you did the right thing for Celestina too.” Clarinda picked up her embroidery. “I think you may trust your instincts about Lord Darien as well.”
Celestina dozed, her fists clutched to her cheeks, bow mouth still working. Henrietta lifted her tiny feet, each miniature toe with its diamond chip nail. The other girls gathered around.
“But look at what you had to endure, marrying beneath you,” Henrietta said. “Worse for a man to so lower himself.”
“It is no small thing to be the wife of a marquess’s heir. Think of the influence you would have with your foundations. With your Society.”
“A marquess’s son,” Henrietta corrected her. “His brother is still the heir.”
“It would work in his interests, I should think,” Clarinda said. “Everyone would suppose he has a claim to Jasper’s wealth.”
“He would be shunned for marrying beneath him,” Henrietta said, “and I should look grasping and avaricious. And in addition to my estate and investments and my work for the Minerva Society, and Charley, who still needs looking after, I should have a husband who might very well racket his way about town spending my income. I hardly see the advantage to me.”
“Conjugal felicity,” Clarinda suggested.
Henrietta raised her brows, and Clarinda shrugged. “My darling girl. Do you really suppose I married your father for his money?”
“Of course not,” Henrietta said, but out of loyalty more than belief. She lowered her eyes. “Darien has enjoyed felicity with a great many women,” she said after a moment. “I shouldn’t expect his interest in me to be real.”
Clarinda watched her stepdaughter with an odd, soft smile on her face. “My dear, practical Hetty. How I admire your mind. But you may wish to rely on your heart in matters such as this.”
Dearbody appeared at the door. “Lord Alfred Highcastle to see you, mum.”
He glared at Henrietta. Her usurpation of his position that morning had made it necessary that he should learn of important goings-on in his own house from the scullery maid, the lowest among his domain.
“Show him in here, Dearbody,” Clarinda replied.
Henrietta hovered over the child on the floor. “But the babies—?”
“He may see us at home,” Clarinda said serenely. “And perhaps he has news of Lady Celeste.” She gathered little Charlotte into her lap, Sophia beside her, while Matilda and Amelia took seats, agog at the prospect of a noble visitor.
Henrietta wavered. Part of her was furious with Lord Alfred for shooting Darien, intended or not, deserved or otherwise. But she was also holding his tiny niece.
Freddy stepped in the door. He had changed into riding dress. He looked handsome and miserable. His eyes went to Henrietta. “Is he—?”
“Sleeping, upstairs,” Henrietta said tersely. “I really don’t wish to disturb him.”
Freddy twisted his hat in his hands, too distressed to notice Dearbody’s attempts to take it. “Gad, what a fine hobble this is!” he exclaimed. “The duchess had her bristles up already with m’sister loping off. I never meant to wing him, I swear I didn’t.”
He looked so miserable, Henrietta took pity on him. “Oh, very well, sit. Lord Alfred, you know Lady Clarinda?”
“Lord Alfred,” Clarinda greeted him. “The surgeon tells us Lord Darien will mend. What have you learned of Lady Celeste?”
“Cut sticks,” Freddy said, taking a chair. “Gone to the Continent. The customs office stamped her papers to Calais.”
“So soon after childbirth?” Clarinda murmured.
“Alone?” Henrietta asked.
“No.” Freddy gave a short laugh. “With Perry.”
“Mr. Empson?” Clarinda said. “Lord Darien’s friend?”
“The third man,” Henrietta surmised. Darien had said there was one.
How could any woman, once knowing Darien’s embrace, want anyone else?
Freddy set his jaw. “Her maid ’fessed up once the duchess put the fear of God into her.
Seems Celeste had been intriguing with Perry for months, but his uncle won’t allow him to marry, so she—” His eyes lit on the young faces drinking in every word.
“Er…she played her paw-paw tricks on Darien to bring Perry up to scratch. Never had a thought to marry Havering, for all that the settlements were drawn up.”
“And I suppose your parents would not entertain Mr. Empson’s suit,” Clarinda guessed. “Given he has no rank, no fortune, and no commission.”
“Gad!” Freddy yanked his hands through his hair. “I shot the wrong man! Perry’s the one caused this bloody mess. I beg your pardon, Lady Clarinda,” he said, appalled, as the girls grinned and giggled.
“But of course,” Clarinda said. “And it is Lady Wardley-Hines now, as I am sure you are aware.”
If Freddy thought it odd that her ladyship should prefer the lower address of a knight’s wife to her born title as an earl’s daughter, he didn’t remark upon it.
“Nurse scolds us for playing paw-paw tricks,” Matilda said, to show she took no insult at the young lord’s language. “Once, we put a mouse in her bed!”
“That’s more or less what m’sister did to…” Freddy’s eyes fell on the infant Henrietta held, and he stuttered into silence.
Henrietta rose with the babe, who grumbled and blew a spit bubble in her sleep. “I suppose James told you I took in your niece.” She stepped close so Freddy could inspect the baby’s face.
“But how—?” Freddy stammered, shying away.
“Lady Celeste sent her to the hospital I support, and I collected her. Of course I don’t expect you to acknowledge her. I don’t know if Darien will. But I have the care of her, at any rate.”
“God’s teeth, she looks like him,” Freddy said in amazement.
Clarinda laughed. “Babies look like no one but themselves, Lord Alfred.”
“No, she really does—especially that scowl.” He raised his eyes to Henrietta’s face. “Is it true you’re to wed him?”
“He has done me the honor of making an offer,” Henrietta said. She tamped down the butterflies at the thought of Darien as her husband. Hers in law if not in spirit. “I am not certain yet what will come of it.”
“He’s going to be furious that Perry served him such a turn,” Freddy said. “I don’t suppose—” He gave Henrietta a look of appeal, and despite herself, she laughed. It was easy to forget his high station given how young and brash he was.
“Yes, I can deliver that bad news, if I must.”
“I don’t doubt it’ll fall on me to go after them,” Freddy said, jamming his hat on his head. “I’ll have a word or two for m’sister when I find them, you can be certain. And Perry, too.”
“I cannot think they mean to stay in France,” Henrietta said. “Things there are getting more dangerous by the day.”
After Freddy had been shown out, still muttering to himself, Henrietta glanced at the mantle clock. “Aunt Althea and Marsibel will be here soon. Do you want me to take the girls upstairs?”