Chapter Twelve

Henry paced up and down the library, his eyes heavy with tiredness but his mind racing. He had sat for dinner with Lord and Lady Tidemore and their daughters, Lord and Lady Eaveswood as well as his mother, and he had even listened to both the young ladies at their musical instruments thereafter, but he still could not remove from himself the way that Miss Edith Tidemore had spoken to him earlier that day. The honesty from her lips had been shocking and even now, Henry could feel it rushing through him, making his heart quicken and his body tingle with a fresh, unexpected energy which he did not much like. It robbed him of sleep, forcing him to pace up and down the room as he battled the thoughts which threw themselves into his mind.

This is foolishness, he told himself, firmly. I am becoming caught up with a young lady's opinions and thoughts when that is not what matters here. What matters is whether or not she can be trusted.

"Ah, I see that I am not the only one unable to sleep."

Henry turned, just to see Lord Eaveswood coming into the room, a half-smile on his face.

"I do not mean to disturb your solitude, however. If you are awake for some particular reason and wish to be left alone, then I can take my insomnia elsewhere."

Henry shook his head and beckoned his friend in. "I thought you would have been rather tired after your journey."

"I should be, should I not?" Lord Eaveswood chuckled and shrugged. "Alas, I cannot sleep. It evades me. Though I am sure that tomorrow, when your other guests arrive, I will find myself suddenly so exhausted, I shall have to retire early when I would much rather stay and enjoy their fine company!" Walking across the room, Lord Eaveswood chuckled as he gestured to the decanter of fine French brandy on the table. "I see that you have still kept the brandy in the very same place as you did some years ago. Do you mind if I have a measure?"

"Of course, do help yourself." Henry took in a deep breath and, setting his shoulders, went to pour himself a measure also. Lord Eaveswood had arrived a little earlier than anticipated due to a problem with the inn where he and his wife had meant to be residing overnight. Henry had not had any difficulty in welcoming them into the house, however, and there had been more than enough food for dinner to go around. Truth be told, he had been glad for a little extra company for it meant that he had not been required to speak at length to his betrothed, as his mother – and Lord and Lady Tidemore – might have expected.

"Might I ask why you cannot sleep?" Lord Eaveswood asked in a genial manner, that friendship between them returning to the same strength it had held some years ago. "I was watching you over dinner. Might I ask if there is a concern in your heart as regards Miss Tidemore?"

Henry scowled. "No, there is no concern. Not as yet, anyway."

"And yet, you frown very heavily indeed even just mentioning her name."

With an effort, Henry pushed the scowl out of his expression. "She spoke to me very bluntly this afternoon," he told his friend, finding that his burden began to dissipate the very moment he began to share his concerns with his friend. "I did not much like it, truth be told."

"Oh?"

Hearing the question in Lord Eaveswood's voice, Henry shrugged. "She told me that she was not at all delighted with the engagement. This came after I put to her that every young lady in London would have been thrilled to be engaged to me and it seems, to my mind, that she wanted to refute that notion for the sole purpose of irritating me."

Lord Eaveswood's eyebrows dropped low. "But why would she seek to irritate you?"

"Because she was upset – and continues to be – that I am a little far from her company," Henry stated, firmly. "I have no intention of letting myself draw close to her and she stated – much too sharply, I think – that her thoughts, feelings and the like were not once considered during this engagement. I, as I have said, told her that any young lady would be glad to be a Duchess and she immediately said that she was not in the least bit pleased to be even considered for such a standing in society. I do not believe that for a moment."

Lord Eaveswood sat down on one of the couches, stretching out his long legs and crossing them at the ankle. "Then you think she lied to you?"

Henry considered this, finding his heart pulling back from such a thought. "I – I think that she must be."

"For her own gain?"

Henry nodded.

"So what would that purpose be? Why would she lie about her own feelings and thoughts in that regard?"

Henry opened his mouth to answer, and then closed it again, his brows knitting together.

Lord Eaveswood took a sip of his brandy and shrugged lightly. "It seems to me a very strange thing to do. It means that, by speaking so, she jeopardizes her chances as regards becoming that Duchess. After all, are you not testing her? Making certain that she can be all that is required?"

Nodding slowly, Henry caught the edge of his lip between his teeth, struggling to find an answer.

"I do wonder why she thought to speak so," Lord Eaveswood continued, thoughtfully. "It is certainly a little unusual if she is then putting her engagement at risk."

"Unless she wants me to believe that she truly cares nothing for my position, only to secretly relish it."

Lord Eaveswood looked at him steadily, his eyes fixed. "And what if she was telling the truth, Your Grace? What then?"

Henry could give him no answer. The thought had come to him but he had quickly dismissed it, telling himself that there had to be a reason that the lady had spoken with such seeming upset and hostility. To his mind, there had been a dark purpose behind it and yet, all the same, he could not simply turn around and break their engagement because of it. She had not done anything overly serious… as yet.

"It may be that your past wounds might now carry forward to an unfair view of the lady," Lord Eaveswood continued, quietly. "Not that I can speak into the situation very well, since I am only a little aware of what took place, but all the same… "

"I suppose it will come out, one way or the other," Henry replied, trying not to let any of his friend's words affect him. All the same, however, he felt a creeping guilt nudge against his heart which he did not like in the least. Could it be that his friend was right in what he was suggesting, that there was something in his view of Miss Tidemore which was not right? Perhaps he was placing too much scorn on her words, attacking her silently while, without fully realizing it, comparing her to Rachel and what she had done.

"I personally think that Miss Tidemore is an excellent young lady." Lord Eaveswood threw back the rest of his brandy and, puckering his lips together, rose to his feet. "A very kind, considerate young lady, in fact."

"She said that she has not been courted – and did not have any gentlemen interested in her company either."

Lord Eaveswood made his way to the door, clearly ready to retire. "I think that is true. I shall clarify with my wife but from what I know, the young lady was not being courted by any gentleman and though she certainly would have been well acquainted with many gentlemen and ladies, there was no-one seeking her out. Not from my knowledge anyway. After all, it was not as though they had been in London for very long before you made your engagement known!" He opened the door and lifted one hand. "Good evening, Your Grace. I hope you too can retire very soon."

Henry grunted and waited until the door closed before he sank down in one of the chairs and, setting his glass aside, dropped his head to his hands. It seemed that Miss Tidemore had been speaking correctly in that regard, at least. She had not had any gentlemen interested in her company and had not had anyone seeking to court her either. Did that not add a greater weight to her other words too, then? Was there not a high chance that everything she had shared with him – whether delivered bluntly or not – could be true? With a groan, Henry sat back and reached for his glass again. Despite Lord Eaveswood's wishes, Henry did not think that he would be able to retire any time soon. There was far too much on his mind.

***

"Fairglen?"

Henry turned, seeing his mother hurrying towards him. "Mother, if you are about to suggest that I need to do something as regards my betrothed, that I need to speak with her or sit with her or – "

"It is about your betrothed but not in that regard." His mother's eyes were sharp. "Fairglen, she spoke with one of the… the disfavored creatures who linger in the local village this morning. I believe that she even gave the woman her own shawl!"

Henry frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"One of the impoverished women came up to her as she and Lady Eaveswood took a ride across the grounds and then out towards the village. It has been told to me that one of these dirty, bedraggled, lazy creatures came to them both and your betrothed gave the woman not only a coin or two but also a shawl or a coat of some kind! From her own shoulders!"

Not understanding why his mother was so upset at this, Henry shrugged. "Why should that concern me?"

"Because she is to be your Duchess !" came the exclaimed reply. "She is going to have every poor soul coming to your estate, coming to your very door, and demanding the same kind of generosity as this woman was given! You cannot have that, Fairglen. These people are lazy, they do not find work for themselves when they could easily do so and Miss Tidemore's sympathy and kindness, though well-meaning, does you – and her – no good."

"I do not think that every person who struggles to make ends meet is lazy, Mother," Henry answered, speaking slowly so as to give great consideration to all that he said. "I can see why Miss Tidemore might have done such a thing and given that it is her possessions she is giving away, I do not think I can berate her over this action."

"Then you must speak with her and make it quite clear that she is to refrain, despite her kind heart," his mother insisted. "It will do you no good, Fairglen. I can assure you of that!" Without another word, she lifted her chin and strode past him towards the drawing room, leaving Henry to stand alone for a few moments. He rubbed one hand over his chin, finding himself a little uneasy. Yes, his mother spoke from a place of concern, having no desire for his estate to be overrun with urchins all desperate for whatever funds they could glean but was there not also a place for sympathy? A place for where they understood that these people did not have even a modicum of what he himself possessed?

"In that regard, I cannot fault Miss Tidemore," he muttered to himself, frowning a little as he too followed after his mother towards the drawing room. "I think that is a somewhat generous spirit."

Much to his surprise, Henry found himself smiling and quickly pushed it away. He wanted to still be very careful around the lady, wanted her to prove herself to him and certainly could not let such feelings overwhelm him! Of course Miss Tidemore would have some good qualities but he could not let them cloud his judgement. He had let that happen once before and he was not about to let himself make the same mistake again.