Chapter 16

CHAPTER16

“Mary, would you excuse me?” Henry moved to his feet.

The sudden way in which Isabella had left was disagreeable to him. Not only had she walked out when they had a visitor, but every time she looked at him there was darkness in her eyes.

“Stay a few minutes longer, please.” Mary reached towards him and laid a hand on his arm.

He stepped back, letting her hand drop away.

“You are very eager with your touches tonight, Mary,” he whispered, frowning.

“We are always, are we not?” Mary asked with a growing smile, but Henry continued to scowl as he backed away from her.

That was a long time ago.

He asked Hawkins to ensure his guest was well cared for, then he walked out of the dining room. It was a while until he found what room Isabella had retreated to. She hadn’t gone to her favorite room, the sitting room, but had instead ended up in the great hall. She was stomping around the suits of armor, which were all reflecting the orange light from the fire that had been lit.

“An unusual place for you to come and hide.” Henry’s voice clearly made her jump. She whipped round to face him, with her hands on her hips, breathing heavily. “I would have thought you’d find a finer room than this. You and I both know this one is cold.” He pretended to shudder, but she didn’t even crack a smile. “What is wrong?”

“Do not do that.” She stepped forwards, plain anger in her tone. “You cannot be kind and charming to me now.”

“Why not?” He frowned. “What is wrong?”

“You ask me that?” She lowered one of her hands from her hips and gestured towards him. “I know what you said. I know you intended to keep your mistresses when you married. You’re a rake. Why would you give them up, after all? You made that quite plain!”

“Bella—” Henry stepped towards her, ready to calm her, but she just continued ranting.

“Yet I never agreed to have your mistresses flaunted in front of me.” Her words had him freezing in his spot. He was so in shock that his jaw dropped. “I shouldn’t have to sit at dinner watching her touch you, fawn over you, put up with her company for hours. That is unfair and you know it.”

“Wait, wait, Bella.” He stepped towards her as she turned to leave. Taking her hand, he pulled her back. She fell against his chest, her palms flat against his stomach, though she didn’t back up from him again. “Mary is no mistress of mine.”

“What?” Her head jerked up, her eyes meeting his.

“Mary is a friend, not my mistress.” He shook his head firmly. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Truly? You expect me to believe that?”

“Yes!” he said firmly. “She is a friend, that is all.”

Isabella stared at him, her lips parted, before her scowl deepened.

“Do you even realize how you were together?” she whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“She touches you as easily as she breathes. She rests her hand on your wrist, like this.” She demonstrated for him, stepping away from his chest to place a hand on his wrist. “She leans into you like this, whispering to you.”

She mimicked the action. Isabella’s proximity, with her lips so near to his ear, had a thrill coursing through him, but it didn’t last, for she backed up, leaning away from him.

“She does all of this, and you do not see any intimacy between you? Oh yes, you really must think your wife is blind.” She spun on her heel and marched down the great hall.

“Bella, wait!” He hurried down the hall, following her. He caught up with her beside one of the suits of armor, but she walked around it, trying to escape him. “It is not like that. Please, believe me. She’s a friend, and we’ve known each other a long time.”

“What man, let alone a rake, would not have noticed her affection for you? Or even her beauty?” she demanded as he dived the other way around the suit of armor, coming to meet her. She backed up in surprise. “You would have noticed.”

“A man needs more than beauty to inspire affection,” Henry said, his voice deep.

“You noticed, then?”

“I’m not blind.”

“Neither am I!” She marched away, and he followed her again. They ended up with their cat-and-mouse game repeating around a second suit of armor. “I see how she looks at you, and I saw time and time again this evening how you did not pull away from her touches. Do you expect me to believe that there has never been anything between you?”

Her question had him stalling. His feet came to such a sharp halt on the wooden floor that the armor jangled beside him, shaking with the movement.

“Ah, I see that look.” Isabella pointed towards his expression. “What a surprise, the rake couldn’t resist a woman that beautiful.” Her sarcasm cut deep.

Raising a hand across his face, Henry pinched the bridge of his nose and then rubbed his temple in frustration at himself. With all his might, he wished he could deny there had ever been anything between him and Mary, but he could not in all good conscience.

“There was one night, but that was many moons ago. In fact, it was years past.” He lowered his hand and sought out Isabella’s gaze with his own. “It was a mistake. I was in my cups for one thing, and Mary admitted herself that it could damage our friendship. We both agreed it meant nothing, and we returned to what we were.”

Isabella shook her head and placed her hands on her stomach as if she felt a little nauseous. She didn’t believe him, it was easy to read.

Henry could have asked why this affected her so much. After all, she had made it plain she did not wish to marry him in the first place. She would have been happy to let her reputation be ruined and avoid marrying him.

Much has changed between us though, has it?

The memory of what had passed between them that afternoon was sudden. How close they’d come, the way she had panted in his ear as he’d pressed his lips down her neck. That intimacy felt as far away from them now as the stars did from where he stood.

“We agreed to be friends.” Henry walked towards Isabella. “What you saw tonight is simply us being close friends. It’s nothing more than that, nothing, I promise you that.”

Isabella sharply turned her back on him. Unsure what to say or do, he pulled at his hair in frustration. It took him a minute or so before he realized what Isabella was now looking at. He lowered his hand from his hair to see she was staring into the one mirror in the room. She was looking at herself, shaking her head.

What is she thinking?

“I wish to believe you,” she whispered, blinking hard. “But I will believe what you said to me when we first married. You said you’d keep your mistresses. I know I can’t stop you from doing whatever it is you wish to do, I can’t.” She turned her back on her reflection, shifting to look him in the eye again. “Though I don’t have to watch you flaunt another woman in front of me.”

“Bella, that is not—Bella!” She was already leaving him, marching across the room.

“No more following me. I’m retiring for the night.”

She reached for a door and left hurriedly, slamming it shut behind her. When the nearest suit of armor wobbled so much at the heavy thud, nearly falling over, Henry was forced to jump towards it and catch it.

He stumbled with it, scarcely managing to keep it on its feet before he heaved against it, shoving it back in place. Sighing with relief, he stared at the suit as a sudden memory stung in the back of his mind.

He had been just a child playing in this room with his mother. Petra had been teaching him how to play with a wooden sword, and they had been play fighting, having fun and re-enacting battles of great knights. They had run around the suits of armor, playing and laughing together. When Henry had knocked over one of the knights in his game, they had both stood back with their hands covering their mouths.

They’d known at that moment what anger this would have brought upon them. Gregory would not forgive their games. Petra had called the butler to help them, and together, they had begun to put the knight back together.

“Why do people like knights?”Henry had asked his mother as he handed her one of the gauntlets.

“It’s because they are men of honor, dear,”she had said sweetly.

The Duke sighed as he was brought back to reality.

“Men of honor,” he muttered, backing away from the suit of armor, feeling strangely out of place in that room.

Eventually, the silence in the great hall got to him. He retreated from there, moving to the main entrance hall, where he looked at the staircase in the hope of catching a glimpse of Isabella. She was far gone though, and there was no trace of her on the stairs. By now, she would be in her chamber, and Henry wanted nothing more than to follow her there and persuade her that, for a long time, the only woman he had thought about bedding was her.

Yet, he couldn’t. He had a guest, and he had to be polite.

Sighing deeply, he returned to the dining room. Hawkins was pouring out a glass of wine for Mary, and she waved a hand at him dismissively. She didn’t say thank you, something that irritated Henry deeply.

Has she not said thank you to Hawkins before?

As Hawkins retreated to the shadows, Henry moved to his side.

“Thank you,” Henry said, wishing to make up for Mary’s error.

“It is my job, Your Grace. I’m happy to help.” Yet, the old features of Hawkins didn’t spread into its usual wide smile. There was a reticence there this evening. “I hope Her Grace is not unwell.”

“As do I,” Henry said softly.

He’d known the butler ever since he was a child. In his own way, Hawkins had looked out for him, repeatedly, like the time he had written to him to tell him of Petra’s sickness.

“Would you ensure Bella has everything she needs, Hawkins? Could you check on her?”

“Of course, Your Grace.” This time, Hawkins smiled and bowed. He left, leaving Henry alone in the room with Mary and one footman, who carried a carafe of wine.

Henry returned to his seat at the head of the table, sitting so heavily that the chair creaked beneath him. Mary leaned towards him at once, resting her chin on her hand.

“It seems our friendship has made your wife jealous,” she said with glee. The way she didn’t even attempt to hide her smile left Henry curious. He tilted his head to the side, watching her closely. “I am sorry to cause trouble,” she muttered rather dramatically, “but it cannot be helped, can it? When there is a friendship such as ours?” She lowered her hand and let her fingers trail across the back of his hand that rested on the table.

Henry’s eyes shot down to where she was touching him. He hadn’t thought much of Mary’s touches all night, but now, his eyes flicked to the empty seat at the foot of the table, where Isabella should have been sitting. He withdrew his hand from Mary’s touch.

“I do not enjoy making my wife envious,” Henry said slowly. It cut deeply, for it was not something he had intended to do. “In fact, maybe we should consider ending this evening.”

“Ending it?” Mary asked in shock, leaning back with her lips parted. “I was enjoying our time.”

“Well, that enjoyment can come to an end,” Henry spoke gently, even as his eyes flicked to the door. He thought of Isabella, who was now hiding in her room.

I must make amends. Somehow.

The thought that Isabella believed him to have a mistress when he did not cut deeply. He tried not to think about why he didn’t have a mistress. For some reason, he hadn’t longed for one. For all his rakish ways, it didn’t seem right. Why would he bed another when Isabella was in the house?

“Let me stay for a few minutes more,” Mary pleaded.

She cast a quick glance at the footman, who was standing at the side of the room and seemed to be busying himself by tidying the carafes and glasses in a nearby cabinet. Apparently, finding she wasn’t being watched, she found the confidence to lean even closer to Henry. When her lips moved near his ear, he stiffened in his chair.

“There are many rooms here where we can go, undisturbed by your wife or servants, are there not?”

Pushing back his chair, Henry tried to put distance between them.

“Mary, what do you mean?” he asked.

She stood as he did and moved towards him. When her hand found his chest, he jerked back from her, but her fingers curled around the lapel of his waistcoat in such a way that he was forced to stand still.

“Henry, there is no harm in us indulging, is there?”

As she trailed her hand down his chest, he was in no doubt of what she had meant. He took hold of her wrist and pulled it off him.

“If when you say ‘indulging’ you are referring to an illicit affair, then remove your hand from me at once.” At his words, Mary snatched her hand away, her eyes going wide. “We are friends, Mary, yes, but it is nothing more than that.”

“Nothing?” she repeated with a small smirk. “You remember that night… do you not?”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Easily remembered though.”

“Really? I had forgotten about it already.” Henry didn’t care at that moment if his words were cold. All he wanted was to get Mary away.

Good God, Isabella was right.

“Take your leave, Mary. I offer friendship to you, but nothing more. If you think I ever wanted anything more, then you are wrong. May I also remind you that you are married?” He backed away from her. “James,” he called to the footman. “Would you be so kind as to show our guest out?”

James bowed and opened the nearest door.

Henry caught sight of the anger in Mary’s eyes. It flashed there for a second, then her cheeks blushed bright red, and she stormed out of the room, striking the floorboards heavily as if she were a petulant child rather than a woman. As the door closed behind her and James, Henry rubbed his hands over his face.

“What do I say to Bella now?”