“Trying to deduce a winner of this cursed affair so Maggie can come down off that blasted pedestal. What are you doing, sis?”
“Designing a new dress.”
Tobias groaned. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen prey to this farce!”
“And what if I have? I wouldn’t describe it in quite so negative terms. In fact, I find the whole thing a bit invigorating.In fact, it’s done just what the marquess and marchioness promised it would do—it has inspired me.” She handed her sketchbook to him.
He flipped through its pages, tilting his head. He knew more about textiles themselves than he did about dress design, but even he could tell Henrietta’s sketches were striking, new. Dare he think it?Inspired.
“I’ve filled page after page today. I’ll be able to offer every lady of the ton her own unique look if this keeps up.” She took the sketchbook back and flipped to pages nearer the back, then shoved them under his nose. “And a few of the men. Ifyoudare wear your heart on your sleeve,Idare branch into menswear.” She arched an eyebrow at him.
“My heart? On my sleeve? Ha! You’ve quite the imagination, sis.”
“I do not need imagination when my eyes have so clear a picture to view. You’ve been stuck to Lady Maggie’s side like a burr to a wool skirt, bringing her food, making her laugh.”
Tobias wriggled on the seat. “You’re the one who told me to change her mind. That’s what I’m doing.”
“Clearly. Butwhy?”
“Need I explain the concept of ruination once more?”
“You’re in love,” Hen persisted.
Ah, that he knew how to respond to. “No, I’m not. She’s a lovely girl. I like her immensely. I’m trying to convince her to marry me, but I’m not in love.”
“I don’t believe that for a moment.”
Tobias stared at his hands in his lap for a long moment. He liked Maggie. An exceedingly disturbing amount. Being around her felt as easy as breathing, as happy as a summer’s day lazing on a riverbank. “I know what it is to love, Hen, and it hurts. You should know that better than most.”
Hen nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “Love can hurt, true. But when I first met Grayson, being together felt completely natural, as if it were the best thing my heart knew how to do. And after our difficulties, we’ve rediscovered that ease. He is the friend I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
He used to think he wanted the same. “Have you heard from Celia recently?” Why had he asked that?!
Hen’s brows drew together. “Celia Weatherby? Our Celia?”
Tobias nodded, a single, tight jolt of his head. Not his Celia. Not anymore.
“No, I have not. Why?”
Now was his chance to tell her everything. The wordsI was in love with herbuzzed up his throat and onto his tongue. He swallowed them. “We used to make merry, didn’t we, as children?” Damn. Another failure.
“Yes. I was eight when Papa told us his new business partner had a daughter my age. I ran round the house cheering for at least three minutes. Do you remember?”
“I do. It was ten minutes.”
“No! Five minutes at the most. Why do you ask about Celia, Tobias?”
“No reason. Just reminiscing.”
Henrietta’s gaze on him felt like a surgeon’s scalpel, cutting, precise, probing. She shrugged. “Tell me one day, will you? About whatever it is you’re not telling me now?” She clicked her tongue. “My, but you’re full of secrets.”
He scoffed. “Hardly! My life is an open book. The good kind, too, with lots of dirty bits.”
“That open book of yours is about to take a turn, I think.”
“Oh?”
“Mm. It’s about to become a romance, I believe.” She smiled at Maggie.
