Chapter Eighteen #2
“Because gossip about Lady Margaret Everleigh is lucrative, of course! Because her ruined reputation in the gossip columns of London newspapers undoubtedly sells them, and it is my duty to save that reputation!”
“Your sister?” she ventured, wondering where all her fire and irritation had gone.
Henry nodded. “The very same. Here I was, gallivanting about the country, lowering myself—sorry—in places like this, all to protect the honor of my sister.”
He gave a dry laugh and stepped back, leaning against the bench.
“And you did, didn’t you?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
The laugh Henry gave was dark. “No, not entirely. It turns out all the scandalous things being printed in the newspapers, all the outrageous actions, all the disreputable places she was supposedly going to…she was.”
He glanced up, finally meeting her gaze with a fierce loyalty for his sister that quite took Minny’s breath away.
He was a fine man. Rash, certainly, and bold where he should sometimes be gentle, barreling forward when sometimes he should listen. But he had risked much to protect his sister’s honor—and to discover it was her indeed doing the ruining…
“You must have been surprised,” Minny managed.
“More or less shocked than finding her drinking with a gentleman in our drawing room near midnight?” Henry mused with a chuckle. “You can imagine.”
Minny raised an eyebrow. “Drawing room? No, I cannot possibly imagine.”
With a sarcastic curtsey, she gestured around the forge.
Much to her surprise, Henry winced. “You knew what I meant.”
It was only then that Minny saw just how much it pained him to admit these actions of his sister. Revealing to her that his entire errand had been only that of a fool’s, that the hard work he had put in, the sacrifice of leaving his title behind had all been for nothing…
It aggrieved him. Yet he, in effect, was trusting her with his sister’s reputation.
Minny bit her lip. “Yes, I-I know what you meant.”
He took a step away from the bench. Minny instinctively took a step away, back touching the wall.
“I am a duke, but that does not mean I am completely immune to fault,” Henry said, eyes expressive. “It is only now that I am learning that because my capabilities—no, that is not what I mean, because my privilege is greater, so, too, can be my mistakes.”
Minny swallowed. “Mistakes?”
“Like leaving you without fighting for you,” he said passionately, his gaze never leaving hers. “Like assuming the worst of you when I knew you already, without knowing of your brother’s…of your brother, that you are the best of men. Women. Blast.”
A shy smile was threatening to overturn Minny’s scowl, though she was doing her best to keep it away. “I knew what you meant.”
“Do you? Because I hardly know how to breathe when I am in your presence.” Henry’s gaze was beseeching, a vulnerability Minny had not seen before. “Believing you should be an instinct, yet I permitted myself to—oh God, the way I spoke to you!”
“You scoundrel. You miser. You cruel harpy—you villain!”
The words rang in Minny’s mind, yet the remembrance did not turn her heart away as she had expected.
Now she knew the full story, knew the devotion and loyalty he held for his sister, Henry’s words had a different ring to them. As the iron rings differently when it is ready to be molded, to be changed, so Minny could now hear the change.
He had been pained, hurt, and lashed out.
That was the evidence of his true character. Coming back, apologizing, prostrating himself at her feet?
Well, perhaps not literally, Minny thought, her gaze raking over Henry’s face as though seeking a visible truth. But almost.
“You spoke from a heart that was broken,” she said softly.
Henry laughed as he shook his head. “A heart utterly branded Minny Banfield, which will never be unchanged.”
A prickle of delight rushed through her though Minny attempted to push it away. Not forcefully, but still. She would not permit one clever phrase to overtake her heart.
“Very prettily said.”
“Very painfully felt,” said Henry bleakly.
He took another step forward, and this time Minny had nowhere else to flee…and found she had no wish to.
“Minny—Miss Banfield, sorry—”
“No, I think I like Minny,” she breathed.
His smile sparked heat through her chest. “I speak the truth. You are the one who told me about maker’s marks. Your maker’s mark has been seared into me, and no matter what happens now, even if you never wish to see me again, I cannot unmake myself. I cannot belong to anyone else.”
Minny knew herself, knew the danger she was in—but could she truly say her temper had never gotten the better of her? Had she never regretted words spoken in heated anger?
“I really do love you, Minny.”
Did she gasp, allow the breath clutched in her lungs to escape? Minny could not tell, but a weight from her shoulders was lifted, and she found she could not lie to herself.
Could not hold back the emotions Henry had awakened in her already.
She breathed quietly, “I don’t want to be hurt again.”
He winced but took another step forward. Now he was at the anvil. Minny tried not to look at it, the location of such wondrous pleasures she had thought, then, would be something they enjoyed forever.
And then she had lost that certainty. Was Henry here to offer it once more?
“I can’t promise I will never make another mistake again—Lord knows, that would be a mistake in itself,” Henry said quietly, stepping around the anvil.
Minny knew that if she asked him to stop advancing, if she told him to leave, he would. He would obey her not merely because this was her forge, but because he loved her. Because he respected her too much to hurt her.
But the words did not come. A desperate need for him, not just his kisses but his presence, his laughter, his way of seeing the world, had been stamped down after their disagreement but it could not be ignored forever.
“But I am willing to learn.”
“You were a slow learner at the anvil.”
Henry grinned. He was now only a few inches away. “I have an excellent teacher.”
“And does that mean,” Minny said, her heart thumping wildly as she reached forward and stroked the lapel of his impressive woolen coat, “that you will listen and obey me?”
A small groan escaped his lips as he leaned forward, keeping his lips just inches from hers. “I’m an excellent student.”
“I think your horse shoes would suggest otherwise,” she breathed, intoxicated by his presence. “You’ll have to listen closely if you’re ever going to make a horse shoe that could actually fit a horse.”
Henry groaned, and the words he spoke next were more of a growl than a sentence. “Damnit Minny, don’t make me beg.”
A mischievous smile crept over her lips as sweet relief swept through her. She had him now, and she would never have to let him go.
Her fingers tightened around his lapel as Minny pulled him forward. “Now that’s an idea…”