“You should know one another well enough to discuss such wants and be comfortable enough spending time in one another’s company. A family friend, a close acquaintance …”
A sister-in-law?
Henry repressed a shudder. Even if he did want to entertain such a thought himself, which he certainly did not, to do so would be all but forbidden in the ton. The fact that she could even imply it was insane.
“All good things to pass on to the children that you and John shall inevitably have,” Henry said pointedly, his smile not slipping one iota despite his internal revulsion.
For the first time, Catherine’s mask slipped enough to show her discontent with his refusal to rise to her charms and the laced suggestion in her words. Her brow furrowed, her smile slipping into a frown.
“What makes you think this young lady possesses such qualities, Henry?”
“I am not quite well acquainted enough with Lady Josephine to be entirely certain of such,” Henry admitted slowly, stressing her name so she could stop being referred to as ‘young lady’. “What I have observed of her thus far, however, leads me to feel quite optimistic concerning them – and her.”
Catherine’s smile was pasted back onto her lips, the emotion burning through her eyes smothered once more. “How quaint,” she murmured. “And you’re so confident about it as well. Of course, it is only a betrothal, which leaves you plenty of room to change your mind should you find out the opposite.”
They had surpassed vaguely suggestive territory and were quickly approaching the sort of thing that couldn’t be taken back. Just like that day at Martha’s grave, realizing what her sister was implying and trying to lead him towards made his skin break out in gooseflesh, his stomach twisting and turning angrily at how impossible of a position it left him in.
“Which I don’t imagine I shall have to do,” Henry announced as he stood rather quickly. His lips widened in a forced smile, his jaw aching with the effort of it as he ignored her look of surprise at the abruptness of his movement. “However, I do have pressing matters I need to attend to,” he trailed off pointedly, his eyes drifting to the door before jerking back to her once more.
Catherine frowned, her gaze falling upon the book he had discarded so quickly upon her arrival.
Henry didn’t give her time even to read the title, though, sweeping it up from the arm of the chair and tucking it into his arm before she could see that it was fiction.
“You and John will have to attend the wedding, of course,” he continued genially as she rose uncertainly to her feet. “I’ll be sure to have an invitation sent here and in London, just in case.” And to ensure that John received it as well. It wouldn’t do for Lady Brisby to attend without Lord Brisby. Certainly not now.
“It was so good to catch up with you.” Henry walked ahead of Catherine, not slowing or shortening his stride as he approached the sitting room door and hurriedly opened it. “Take your time, Catherine; my butler can see you out. And thank you for your words of wisdom.”
He tossed her one last smile before making his escape ahead of whatever utterance she might have given in return. He didn’t think he could politely decline to answer whatever question she might come up with to detain him, and he didn’t know if he could navigate himself through any more pointed conversation and innuendo.
While it would have been easy to attribute her actions still to grief (it had only been three years, after all), he struggled to dismiss it as quickly as he had that evening at Martha’s grave.
Lord, what he wouldn’t give to talk to his late wife about the scenario that had just occurred.
And, as he hurried down the hall and up the staircase to put even more space between him and her sister, another set of eyes intruded upon his thoughts.
Would he have been so disgusted if it had been those oceanic-blue eyes sitting across from him phrasing things so suggestively?
He wanted to say yes.
But the memory of how his body had reacted just to her proximity, just to the desire in her gaze alone, made him think otherwise.
Depraved.
That was what he was. A depraved, desperate man. And he grappled with it along with his guilt for being so as he ran an aggravated hand down his face and cursed the world that had left him in such a predicament in the first place.
Chapter 10
“You look as if you’ve swallowed a porcupine,” Josephine’s mother hissed at her as they followed several steps behind the duke and her father, still heavily immersed in wedding planning.
Josephine tried to smile, even if the expression was somewhat shaky. It was hardly the first time her mother had said something in that vein since they had set out for the duke’s estate that morning.
And she could hardly help it.
Her mind was filled with Caroline’s revelations, the big ‘M’ echoing in her mind despite her best efforts to put such rumours and whispers aside.
Murder, murder, murder.
She nodded and answered at the appropriate times, being sure to keep her expression pleasant any time the duke cared to look her way, but any time he was otherwise occupied, her control slipped … and her mother poked and prodded with both her fingers and her words until Josephine forced her smile back in place.
