Chapter Twenty

"Should you like to dance?"

Henry tried to smile as Miss Tidemore blinked up at him in obvious surprise. It had been a rather enjoyable afternoon and Henry had, much to his relief, managed to ignore his brother and his wife for most of the day which, in turn, had let him feel a little more at ease. He had caught Miss Tidemore watching him on occasion, had seen what he thought to be concern flickering in her eyes and had decided, therefore, that he would do his best to reassure her that all was well between them. Where that desire had come from, Henry could not quite say and, all too aware that there were a good many emotions whirling through him, he chose to set them aside for the moment to think upon later.

"It is to be a waltz, I believe," he said, as Miss Tidemore began to smile. "Miss Grifford has offered to play for us all. What do you say?"

"That is very kind of you, Your Grace," she answered, glancing to her left and to her right, though her companions were all smiling in encouragement. "Of course I shall."

With a smile, Henry stepped away with Edith on his arm just as Lord Eaveswood approached his wife, ready to take her to dance also. The music began before he was quite ready and, without warning, Henry found himself embracing Edith as they began to dance. His hand was tight on hers, the other at her waist and, much to his embarrassment, his steps stumbled a little as he began.

"I do apologise," he muttered, though much to his relief, Edith only laughed softy and assured him that all was well. There was not a great deal of room to waltz but with only three couples on the floor, there was more than enough space for them to do so. Henry found his steps again and, feeling a little more at ease, began to twirl Edith around and, as he did so, felt his heart soften.

He could not explain it but within him came such a yearning, such a desire to pull her even a little closer, he could not help but give in to it. As carefully as he could, he tugged her a little more closely to him, hoping that she would think that it was simply because of the lack of space rather than anything else, while his own heart caught alight with a sudden, furious anticipation. Surely it could not be that he wanted to have his arms tight around her, that he wanted her as close to him as he could possibly have her? Surely this strange desire to kiss her, to drop his lips to hers, was not something he could tolerate?

Blinking furiously, Henry tried to quell the swirling within him, telling himself that he was being foolish, that he was becoming overwhelmed by his own foolishness, but all the same, the desire would not leave him. When she smiled up at him, his heart exploded for the sheer beauty of it, a rush of joy sweeping right through him.

Whatever was happening to him? He had wanted to keep Miss Tidemore at arm's length, had wanted to keep her back from him and yet now, despite his intentions, the only thing he wanted to do was draw her closer to him than she had ever been before.

***

"Might I ask you something?"

Henry nodded, looking to his friend as they both sat out in the gardens, watching the other guests as they meandered around. Some were playing a game of croquet while others merely watched. Henry's gaze continually dragged itself towards Miss Tidemore, though he did find himself a little disturbed by that. His feelings for the lady were growing much too quickly and, for whatever reason, all thought of stepping away from her, from considering her unsuitable, had quite gone from him. In fact, the more he thought about marrying her, the more he found himself quite at ease with the idea.

"Are you going to marry the lady?"

It was as though his friend had seen everything that Henry was thinking. A slow heat began to build in his chest, pushing up towards his face as Henry kept his gaze away from the lady in question though he did not look to Lord Eaveswood either. "I – I have not yet decided."

"Though you care for her."

Henry's mouth fell open as his friend chuckled.

"You must not be too surprised, surely?" Lord Eaveswood laughed, as the heat in Henry's chest spread up towards his face. "I have seen how you have been watching Miss Tidemore these last few days. I have even seen you dance with her and your hands could not have clung more eagerly to her waist."

"That is certainly not the case," Henry stated, firmly, interrupting his friend. "We danced only once and it was a very, quiet, simple dance which took place last evening. There were many others present and – "

"And you could not take your eyes off of her," Lord Eaveswood interrupted, albeit in a gentle manner. "Just as you cannot do now."

Henry pressed his lips flat together, wishing he could find a response but struggling to do so. His friend was quite right though Henry did not want to admit it.

"She has not proven herself to be in the least bit flirtatious, has she?" Lord Eaveswood asked, his tone quiet now. "You must surely have been able to see that her character is very fine indeed, just as both myself and my wife have done?"

Henry let out a slow breath and closed his eyes. "I do not know what to say to these questions, Eaveswood. I thought the same about Rachel and yet – "

"Do not think that one mistake means that you are fated to repeat the very same one again," his friend stated, firmly. "You know very well, just as I do, that the lady is most considerate, careful in her manner and yet, despite all that has been thrust upon her, eager to do all she can to please you. And I will say that I have seen her looking upon you in tenderness."

This last remark made Henry sit up straight, his glass of whiskey sloshing about wildly in his glass. "I beg your pardon?"

Lord Eaveswood chuckled. "You do not think that she could care for you?"

Henry shook his head. "Of course she could not! Do you not know what sort of ogre I am?" Sitting back, he let out a long breath, his gaze once more finding the lady in question and gazing at her steadily. She laughed at something Lady Eaveswood said and Henry found himself smiling. "I am an ogre," he repeated, as his friend shook his head. "You may disagree with me all you wish, but I know that it is true. I have spent many a month hiding in this house, pretending to be no-one and wishing not to know anyone. I have lost myself in cold melancholy, in hot anger and I have attempted to forget everyone and anyone I have ever known… and that includes my own brother." His lips pulled to one side for a moment, his eyes still clinging to Miss Tidemore. "I have no kindness in me, I am sure."

"That is nonsense." Lord Eaveswood snorted. "Your care and consideration of the orphanage speaks against that."

"But is it enough?" Feeling himself suddenly vulnerable, Henry fought the urge to remain silent, to hide himself away and pull back from what he was saying. He had done that for the last few years, had refused to let himself show even a single moment of vulnerability to anyone. Was he going to hide away from it now? "I have a great deal of awareness as to just how cruel I have been, how cold and distrustful I have become. Even in this engagement – this foolish engagement – I have not thought for a moment about what it must be like for the lady herself. I have thought only of myself."

Lord Eaveswood tilted his head. "Why do you call it foolish?"

"Not in the engagement itself but in the way I went about it," Henry explained. "I was rash and went without thinking but, despite that, I appear to have been granted a great boon in Miss Tidemore."

A smile began to spread across Lord Eaveswood's face. "Yes, I think that you have been," he agreed. "That is just what I have been saying. Though that must mean that you have every intention of proceeding with the marriage, then?"

Drawing in a deep breath, Henry nodded. "Yes," he said, feeling a great sense of relief begin to overwhelm him. "Yes, I think that I shall. She has proven herself, has she not? She does not flirt with anyone, has not given long looks to any other gentlemen and, from what she has told me and from what has been confirmed, it seems that she does not have even the smallest bit of interest from any other gentlemen – not because she is not worthy of such attention but only because she was not given opportunity."

"Quite."

Henry managed to smile at his friend, aware that he now felt a good deal more exposed in his thoughts and emotions than he had been before. "You are right, I do have an… interest in her."

"An interest?" Lord Eaveswood laughed and shook his head. "My dear fellow, it is a good deal more than that."

Henry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"It is an affection ," Lord Eaveswood answered, his eyes dancing with evident mirth that Henry had not been aware of this beforehand. "I know that you closed your heart to such things once you found out what had happened with Rachel but it appears as though your heart has other considerations."

A wry smile crept across Henry's face. "You are quite right, old friend. It appears as though it does. The only question I have now is what I am to do with it."

Lord Eaveswood chuckled. "If I were you, I would start by telling Miss Tidemore that you fully intend to marry her." His smile faded. "That would bring her some relief, I am sure."

"Yes, it would." A little embarrassed that he himself had not thought of the lady herself and what she would be feeling, Henry took a sip of his whiskey so as to hide his red face. "I think you are right, Eaveswood. I shall do so at the very earliest opportunity."

***

Henry scowled as his mother walked into the study without so much as a knock. "Mother, I am rather busy."

"With what, might I ask?"

Taking in a deep breath, Henry set down his quill and then arched one eyebrow. "I am preparing a list for those I wish to invite to the wedding."

Something like shock rippled across his mother's expression, making Henry frown.

"Then you… you have decided to wed the lady?"

Henry nodded. "Yes," he said, crisply. "I can see no reason not to do so. She has proven herself to me, I think."

"But she is not suitable for a Duchess!"

Something like pain stabbed into Henry's heart and his brows instantly knotted together. "Whatever do you mean by that?"

The Duchess threw up her hands. "She is much too generous and much too improper with those who call themselves impoverished – though you know very well that I have a very different idea about such a thing."

Henry's scowl returned quickly.

"I have asked for her help with the ball but she has offered very few suggestions and though she has done her best in attempting to assist me, it is quite clear that she knows nothing about what is expected or anticipated."

"Mother, that is entirely justified," he answered, doing his best to keep his anger from his voice. "You cannot expect a young lady such as Miss Tidemore to know what is expected when it comes to organising a ball. These are things which must be learned and which you and I can teach her."

His mother threw up her hands. "She is the daughter of a Viscount! Of course she will have very little experience in such things, and it may not ever come to her even if I did my best in terms of teaching her."

Before Henry knew what he was doing, he found himself on his feet, his hands planted on the table, the quill broken in half under his right hand. "That is enough , Mother!" One fist thumped the table, only for an eerie quiet to follow after his words. The Duchess' eyes rounded, staring back at him while Henry drew in long, steadying breaths as he fought for control.

"I will not tolerate you speaking ill of my betrothed," he said clearly, his words bouncing off the walls and hitting back against his chest. "I will make this clear to you only once more, Mother, and then we will never speak of it again." He swallowed hard, trying to keep his writhing emotions under control. "I am going to marry Miss Tidemore. I have come to care for her and I am quite certain that she will be an excellent Duchess. Yes, she will have many things to learn but I am more than willing to encourage her in that. That does not appear to be the same for you, but that does not matter to me. I will not tolerate one single word against her, not any more. You may have your concerns but my mind is made up. You will not come to speak to me of this again, Mother." Sitting back down, he gestured to the door. "I have made myself quite clear. Now, do excuse me."

For a long moment, his mother simply stood there, staring at him as though she did not recognize who he was. Then she blinked rapidly, let out a quiet sniff and then turned on her heel, leaving Henry to glare after her as she made her way from the room.

That had been a rather tense moment, followed by a terse discussion but Henry was now quite determined. From this day forward, he would tolerate nothing but respect, consideration and kindness towards Miss Tidemore… and that included from himself.