Passions of a Gentleman (Gentlemen of Honor #3) - Rose Gordon Page 0,1
into his. “Well then, explain yourself.”
“I heard a scream,” he said, his mind racing. “I came to make sure everything was all right—”
“And when you saw something you liked, you took that as an invitation to stay.” Either tears or hysteria filled her voice; unfortunately for him, he couldn’t place which.
Simon frowned, but he couldn’t deny her charge. “My apologies.”
“Are unwelcome, but your absence is.”
And with such sweet parting words, Simon spun on his heel, marched up to the house, delivered the papers to the butler (after confirming this ramshackle old shack was indeed Lord Drakely’s residence), grunted as he climbed into the carriage, slammed the door himself then vowed he’d never again speak to that wretched young lady.
1
Three Years Later
The last thing Henrietta Hughes wanted was to go to London for the Season to find a husband.
After two failed Seasons, London Society had lost its appeal.
Not that it’d ever had any in the first place.
Well, that wasn’t necessarily true. She had once spun daydreams about meeting a gentleman who fell madly in love with her and rescued her from the bedlam that was her family home. But then she’d grown up and realized that all men were cads. All of them.
Her sister, Juliet, Lady Drakely, prided herself on being a natural matchmaker, and if Henrietta wasn’t careful she would leave London this year having gained a husband. She shuddered and clamped a tight rein over her emotions as she entered the drawing room where she knew her sister would be sitting—waiting to pounce on her as if she were a lioness in wait for an antelope. Or whatever it was lions ate. Henrietta wasn't entirely sure since she'd never actually seen one despite her longing to go to Mr. Fairchilde's personal menagerie.
“Henrietta, we need to talk.”
Henrietta started at Juliet's tone. It wasn't cold exactly, but neither was it as warm as usual. Not to mention those five words always led to doom. “Yes?”
Juliet patted the space next to her on the yellow chaise she was occupying by the window. “It’s about the Season.”
“You’ve decided that after two failed Seasons I am to become a spinster?” Henrietta said with false bravado.
“Not quite.” Juliet shook her head ruefully, a gesture that would have made her thick, heavy spectacles slide right down her nose a few years ago. Now that her husband had taken her to London and bought her the finest spectacles money could afford, they just moved down her nose a little. A sickening testament to just how deeply her husband Drake loved her.
Henrietta tore her eyes away. She had no business thinking about how fortunate her sister was to have had a love match. It would only fuel an ugly jealousy that had no right to exist. She should be happy for Juliet—and she was. She lowered herself onto the chaise where Juliet had indicated. “Then if I’m not to become a spinster, what do you wish to tell me?”
“I won’t be able to go with you to London this Season.”
Henrietta’s heart constricted and she forced a smile that she was certain was overdone by anyone's standards. “So then I am to become a spinster?” she said with another dose of false bravado.
“Truly, Henrietta, I have no idea why that prospect is so appealing to you.”
“To merrily go live out the rest of my days in the north and make biscuits and bread for the hungry urchins in exchange for them reading me stories and bringing me firewood or whatever it was they were supposed to do to be charming. That doesn't sound so awful to me.” All right, it did, but seeing no other option, she needed to resign herself to the fact that it was very likely to become her fate, and the sooner she accepted it, the better.
Juliet shook her head. “Even before I married Drake and had come to accept that I’d be a spinster, I wasn’t nearly as thrilled with the idea as you seem to be.” She snorted. “Actually, I didn’t like it at all. Don’t you want to be the mistress of a house? Hold your own babies? Make said babies?”
“No,” Henrietta cut in, blushing violently. She'd always known Juliet had no shame, and while it usually didn't bother her, that was not a discussion she wanted to have with Juliet just now, lest she reveal too much.
“It’s not as bad as mother described it,” Juliet said her cheeks turning pink. “It can actually be...er...”