He’d thought he’d been making steady progress. But now, for some obscure reason, she’d shied just when he thought she was ready to take the final hurdle.
Before he raised his head, and looked at her again, he was careful to wipe all expression from his face.
‘If you have any consideration for me at all,’ he said firmly, ‘you will not end our...agreement in this way.’
‘Why not?’
‘I have my reasons. Perhaps you can put it down to pride. Perhaps I do not wish people to think that you have rebuffed me so very finally. Do not forget, our entire relationship has been carried out in full view.’
She’d not thought he cared what anyone thought of him. But in this matter, perhaps it was different. He had a reputation for being irresistible to women. It would dent his pride to have been found completely resistible to one such unprepossessing female, particularly since he’d gone so very far out of his usual milieu in order to appear to pursue her.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘You may choose the method of ending this charade. But please do not drag it out for much longer.’
‘Oh, no,’ he said, giving her an ironic bow. ‘You may be sure I shall bring it to a swift conclusion.’ He stepped to one side. ‘I, too, am growing impatient with things as they are.’
She knew it. She’d known he had no real interest in her. The pain she felt as she walked away from him was so severe she wondered she could still draw breath.
Her only consolation was that she’d been the first one to declare the end must come. He had no idea that the thought of breaking with him was tearing her apart.
It didn’t make the pain go away.
Chapter Ten
By the next afternoon, Henrietta was managing to breathe remarkably steadily again. She’d scarcely slept the night before, nor been able to consume a single mouthful of food all day, but breathing—yes, she’d regained the ability to do that.
She’d even been able to make herself presentable, come downstairs, and take part in her aunt’s At Home. At least, she’d sat and given the appearance of listening to whoever happened to be speaking to her and inserted one or two comments that didn’t seem to have been wildly irrelevant, to judge from the way they were received.
It would get much easier to pretend she was not in pain once Lord Deben had done whatever it was he’d decided to do to bring down the curtain on their performance. Then at least she wouldn’t feel as if she was on an execution block, waiting for the axe to fall. The connection would have been severed and she could commence the process of getting over him.
Although, she reflected, absently rubbing at her neck, getting back to anything like normal, after the association with Lord Deben had come to an end, might well prove as difficult as recovering from decapitation.
Her full attention was brought back to the present by Warnes announcing, ‘Lady Carelyon.’
Henrietta’s eyes flew across the room to stare at the glamorous, redheaded young woman entering her aunt’s drawing room.
As Lady Carelyon greeted her aunt, Henrietta examined every detail of her dress, demeanour and physique avidly. She looked as though she was about the same age as Henrietta. Petite, and very pretty, although when she turned and advanced towards Henrietta, her hands outstretched, she found something about the way she was smiling rather chilling.
‘My dear Miss Gibson,’ she said, taking her by the hands and giving them a brief squeeze. ‘I do hope you do not mind me being so forward, but I just could not wait for an introduction to the woman who has become famous for giving my arrogant brother such a public set-down.’
‘You...you are Lord Deben’s sister?’
The redhead made a moue and nodded. ‘I know, I look nothing like him. And I hope I am nothing like him either.’ She gave a theatrical shudder. ‘The cold-hearted brute.’
It was all Henrietta could do not to gasp. She would never speak so of any of her own brothers to a perfect stranger. Not even if they were in the middle of one of their infrequent squabbles. Especially not at an At Home where everyone present could hear. It was not as if Lady Carelyon was troubling to keep her voice down, either. Why, it was almost as if she wanted everyone to know how much she disliked her brother.