“Oh, well.” Grandmama yanked her arm free from Lady Pendleson’s grasp. “Off we go, my dear!” She wrapped her arm through Henrietta’s arm, and braced on either side by women who loved her, Henrietta felt brave enough to do what must be done.
“I so enjoyed visiting with you, Lady Pendleson,” Henrietta said. “Do visit the shop as soon as you’re in town.”
Lady Pendleson narrowed her eyes and placed her fists on her hips. “I will. Don’t you worry, Miss Blake.”
Henrietta turned the trio toward the waiting carriage. Lady Pendleson’s narrowed gaze foreboded trouble. The woman vibrated with suspicion. She’d want to know more. “Quick, Grandmama. We must be off.”
Grandmama sighed. “A quiet ride back to London. Lovely.” She practically jumped into the carriage when they reached it.
Henrietta turned to Ada, ignoring Grayson’s scowl from not more than ten feet away. He’d seen them, and her waiting carriage and traveling dress did not help his scowling mood. “I feel scowly, too,” she mumbled, “But I’m not going to show it.”
“I don’t think ‘scowly’ is a word.” Ada lifted an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m assuming no explanation is forthcoming.”
“I’ll write to you and explain everything. I promise.”
Ada wrapped Henrietta in a hug. Nothing felt better than the arms of a friend who loved you and would do as you asked without question. The tears Henrietta had been holding back threatened once more.
But the crunch of boots on gravel filled Henrietta with alarm, and she pulled out of the embrace.
Grayson strode toward them.
Henrietta stepped up into the carriage. “I must go. I’ll write! I promise,” she told Ada.
“Henrietta!” Grayson’s voice floated to her as she closed the carriage door and rapped the roof. “Henrietta!” he cried. It sounded as if he might be running after the carriage, but she couldn’t bring herself to look out the window. She didn’t want to know if he ran after her. What she did was best for everyone, even him in the end. He’d realize that one day.
“Now, my dear.” Grandmama cleared her throat and settled into the squabs. “I’m eternally grateful for the unexpected escape from that dreadful house party, but I’m afraid I must know why a sole tear rolls down your cheek.”
Henrietta reached up and dashed the offending tear away. She had so far pressed her emotions back, but no more. A wall broke inside of her, and every tear she’d pent up in the last week burst out on a gasp.
“Oh my,” said Grandmama. “A flood.”
Chapter 19
The carriage carried Henrietta farther away from him every second, but he couldn’t run after her. Not yet. The duchess still seemed to think he had no choices, but he’d ensure she knew the truth. He would no longer allow others to tell him what to do and who to be.
And then there was the traitor Tobias Blake. Grayson wanted to finish what they’d started earlier. Then, when Tobias lay beaten and bloodied under his boot, he’d announce his imminent marriage into the family and leave him shocked and helpless and alone. Much like Tobias had left Grayson last year.
He turned from the carriage as it disappeared down the lane. The duchess radiated rage beside her daughter who looked, as she always did, entirely calm. He took a deep breath before returning to the conversation he’d been having before he’d seen Henrietta enter the carriage and leave without a single word. Anger simmered up again. What the hell was she thinking?
He’d find out later. Right now, he had a delusional woman to deal with.
The duchess’s eyes cut him to pieces. “You do no honor to your name, you fool. Running after a ruined woman? Tsk.”
He clenched his fists. “You will not now, nor in the future, insult Miss Blake. Do you understand?”
She turned her head away from him, refusing to answer.
“I will say this one more time, madam. I mean no disrespect to your daughter, you, or your husband, the duke, but I will make my own choices and marry whom I please. And if I’m the fool you say I am, you should not wish me to marry your daughter anyway.”
Lady Willow cocked her head, studying him with curious eyes.
“Lady Willow,” he began, shaking his head.
“You! Rigsby!”
Grayson’s head snapped toward the steps at the sound of his name on the lips of a very obviously annoyed young woman. Another voice clamoring after him? How many would he acquire this day?
Ada Cavendish glared daggers at him. If this were a fight, he’d be dead already; every woman around him had lethal aim.
