Chapter Five
“I hate him.”
“No, you dislike him because he bested you at your own game.”
Pere’s attention snapped to her friend. “Pardon?”
Anna sighed dramatically as she fluffed a rose in the bouquet she was arranging. “You heard me.” The bloom trembled under her fingers, a flash of crimson against the pale morning light.
“Whose side are you on?” Pere grumbled, sinking back into the couch in Anna and Henley’s parlor.
The cushions sighed with her, as if even the furniture were weary of her theatrics.
“Yours, odd since sometimes I wonder if you are on your own side. Peculiar, that.”
Pere gave an exasperated grumble. “You sound like Henley, which is also strange because I rather thought you’d rub off on him, not the other way around. Disappointing.”
Anna cut her a glance and then started across the room and took a seat beside Pere.
“That, my love, is why you must marry a man worthy. It goes both ways; Henley picks up little traits from me, and I him, so it would be a very terrible thing if the man I married wasn’t as honorable as your brother and didn’t love me as deeply.
When you spend so much time with another, it’s bound to happen, the trading of traits.
” She tucked a loose curl behind Pere’s ear, the gesture tender, almost sisterly.
Pere watched her friend as she spoke. Light and adoration swirled in Anna’s eyes as she talked about Henley, and for once, Anna seemed far older, more mature—even though they were of the same age.
It was sobering, confusing—especially since the man she adored and loved was the same man who had put frogs and tadpoles in Pere’s bed. Brothers were such a bother.
“I have a mother, you know,” Pere quipped back, her own frustrations lashing out.
Anna’s brow pinched, hurt flickering across her light features for a moment before hardening into a stony resolve.
“You do. And she’s a little preoccupied at the moment, so you get to deal with me, it looks like.
” Anna gave a saucy grin and stood, walking over to the rope and tugging, ringing for a maid.
“Is it exhausting?” Pere asked after a maid came in and was given directions to bring tea up.
“What?” Anna asked, returning to her flowers.
“Being right, all the time. How does Henley deal with you?” Pere couldn’t bite back the grin that teased her lips.
“I’d call it exhilarating, not exhausting, and as for your brother…” She gave a secretive smile. “He has no complaints.”
Pere groaned. “And I regret asking.”
Anna giggled softly. The sound was bright, like birdsong after rain.
But something that Anna had mentioned left an unwelcome reminder that rubbed part of her heart raw.
In truth, ideally, Pere would be having these sorts of discussions with her mother.
But, as Anna said, Lady Devon was preoccupied with Anna’s eldest brother.
Last season, Edwin had made a very public courtship for Anna’s hand.
In the aftermath, Pere could see how it was for all the wrong reasons, but Edwin had never been one to consider anything but his own ideas and plans.
It was quite the upset when Henley usurped his brother by winning Anna’s heart, and her parents’ blessing all before Edwin knew there was a competitor in the ring.
But only being aware of one’s self had a way of clouding judgment, and those were Edwin’s greatest sins—arrogance and pride.
When the betrothal was announced, Edwin’s pride couldn’t handle the blow, so he took his leave of the country.
It didn’t help that the truth of several other skeletons in her brother’s closet had come to light at the same time as the betrothal.
Pere didn’t blame him for running, but the fallout with their mother had been great.
Because her favorite son was absent. And his correspondence was few and far between. The house felt like a mausoleum now—grand, echoing, cold. Pere could walk the corridors and hear her own footsteps answer back, mocking her solitude.
“You’re awfully quiet?” Anna asked, breaking into Pere’s thoughts.
Pere glanced up to her friend, seeing her quiet observation. “I … am just thinking.”
“About?”
Pere hitched a shoulder. “Mother.”
“Ah.” Anna nodded, then came back to sit beside her friend.
Anna grasped her hand tenderly, her eyes full of compassion.
“I don’t want your pity.”
“You don’t have it.” Anna patted her hand affectionately. “Has she improved at all?”
“No. Still waits for the letters. Doesn’t she know that he, under the best of circumstances, is a horrible correspondent?”
“She should.”
“But she won’t believe it, she … she won’t believe anything she doesn’t want to believe. It’s so … strange. And sad. Why? Why would someone have such an intentional blind spot for a person, a child?”
Anna lifted a shoulder and shook her head. “I’m not certain. I’m an only child, so my parents never had to share their love and affection with anyone but me. But I can assure you, they do not hesitate to correct any character flaws.” Anna gave a soft laugh.
“My mother … she sees the flaws in my character and Henley. Good Lord, poor Henley.”
Anna’s expression tightened. “It frustrates me greatly that your mother doesn’t see the caliber of character in Henley. He is … far more than he gives himself credit for, and exceedingly more than his mother has to say about it.”
“I know. It’s madness.” Pere huffed. “And Edwin, who has done grave damage to Henley’s character—or tried—and who was willing to marry you and keep his bloody mistress…” Pere twisted her lips. “Don’t tell Henley I said that.”
“He’s heard worse.”
Pere giggled, a much-needed release from her melancholy and frustration with the subject matter at hand. “That is true.” She sighed. “Regardless, it baffles me. And I wish she’d take some interest in my season but…”
“She won’t.”
“No.”
“I’m sorry. But you aren’t alone.” Anna patted her friend’s hand, again. “You have me and Henley. We’re not bad company.”
“No. But my brother needs to stop wearing that perpetual glare or else they will think the love match has ended,” Pere badgered.
“Oh please, that man looks at me with more heat than a torch. It’s glorious. They will all assume the frustration is aimed at you,” Anna quipped lightly.
“Probably.” Pere gave a soft laugh, then straightened her posture when the maids came in with the tea service.
The scent of freshly baked biscuits filled the air and distracted her.
“Thank you,” Anna replied as the maids left. “I’ll pour for you, and I suspect your brother will be in here shortly, so take your biscuits while I pour, so you get a few before he devours them all.”
“Beast of a man,” Pere grumbled and placed three biscuits on her plate, then grabbed a fourth and took a bite.
“Smart.” Anna nodded approvingly.
“I’m usually called brilliant, but smart will also do,” Henley stated as he entered the room, and without delay placed his hands around Anna’s waist, pulled her in tightly to his body and kissed her soundly.
“I’m here. Just in case you missed my presence. Keep my innocent eyes innocent,” Pere called out as she glanced away, heat rushing up her neck. “Henley, have some manners.”
“It’s my house,” Henley replied after slowly releasing his blushing wife.
“You have company.”
“You don’t count as company. You practically live here.” Henley gave a quick smile her direction and lifted a biscuit. He studied the plate then glanced to Pere. “How many did you already eat, little piglet?”
Anna swatted his arm. “Don’t call her that.”
“He’s called me far worse.” Pere scrunched up her nose and stuck out her tongue.
“Oink, oink.” Henley took another biscuit, arching a brow in challenge as he looked to Pere.
“Pig,” Pere quipped back, grinning.
She launched a crumb at him; it bounced off his cravat like a tiny cannonball.
Henley caught it midair, popped it into his mouth, and winked. “Waste not, want not.”
It was comfortable, the camaraderie with Henley.
He’d always been her favorite brother, and it was perfect he had married her best friend.
It had given her the tight-knit family she’d always wanted.
Especially now with her mother so distant, it was a welcome haven; Henley and Anna’s home.
The townhouse wasn’t overly large and remarkable, but it was perfect for them, and if Pere wished to stay with them overnight, or for a week, there was space.
All her dresses were at the family house where their mother had reclused herself, but it was close enough that Pere could spend her time with Anna and Henley and then prepare for the evening at home.
She paused as she thought the word; it didn’t truly feel like home any longer, not with Henley gone, Edwin too.
It was much too large, and empty. No, she craved the intimacy of love, friendship, and laughter that surrounded her at Henley and Anna’s.
Someday, soon if she had any say, she’d have the same thing.
Now, if only she could find her own happily ever after, it would be perfect.
Anna handed her a cup of tea, steam curling like a question mark. “Have you decided which rake you’re not reforming next?”
Pere nearly choked on her biscuit. “After Hawthorne’s lecture? I’m considering a nunnery.”
Henley snorted. “You’d scandalize the nuns within a fortnight.”
“Challenge accepted,” Pere shot back, but her laugh was softer now, edged with something wistful.
She glanced toward the window, where sunlight flowed across the rug like spilled honey.
Somewhere out there, Lord Hawthorne was probably twirling his cane and smirking at the world.
The thought should have irritated her. Instead, it lodged beneath her ribs like a burr—sharp, persistent, impossible to ignore.