Page 27 of Dare it all for Love

“Oh, Jasper,” she said, hurrying to sit beside him and take his hand.

“There, there, love. All’s well that ends well. The point is, Florence is falling for Henry hard if I’m any judge, and I think Henry is in more than a little danger himself, no matter his protestations.”

“Henry and Florence,” Harriet said, as if trying the names together and seeing if they fit. “She is much younger than him, it’s true, but she’s no child. I have always found Florence to be forthright and strong. Indeed, she’s a courageous young woman, intelligent too. She’d never bore him with tedious conversation, she’d be an endless challenge. With Gabriel as their father, those girls have suffered their fair share of slights by the ton and yet Florence has never shied away, never backed down. She’s a force to be reckoned with, and….”

Jasper waited whilst Harriet worked it through. She looked up at him and then at Matilda.

“You really think Florence has feelings for him?”

Matilda gave a little laugh. “Darling, she can hardly keep her eyes from him. I admit I am slightly disappointed, as I was looking forward to matchmaking, but there’s nothing to be done except to wait for things to play out. Just you watch when they are next in the same room.”

Harriet nodded, clearly taking Matilda’s observations as beyond doubt. “We need to speak with Helena, but assuming she does not disapprove the match…. Yes. I think that this will do very well indeed.”

Though he’d been wet and cold and weary, Henry was regretting his decision not to carry on back to the Hall. Though Holbrook felt homey in a way his house did not, and the meal before him was excellent, he did not feel at ease. He had the distinct feeling he was being watched, and it was an uncomfortable sensation. He could not figure out who was watching him, either. Florence appeared to be ignoring him, which he thoroughly deserved but did not like a bit, and no one else seemed to want to meet his eye, which was odd.

Perhaps he ought to have made himself go home, though he really hadn’t wanted to. If he were honest, waking up to find a corn doll on the pillow beside his head had been extremely unsettling and Saxenhurst Hall was not the most welcoming of homes at the best of times.

His fault, of course; he’d left it empty all this time and he’d never been happy there, even as a boy. Harriet felt the same, he knew. Holbrook House had been home, Jasper’s mother the epitome of everything a parent ought to be. He’d been more upset than he’d expected when she’d passed away.

Their mother had never had the knack of making a house a home, and Father always seemed to prefer to live in a museum, so that was how the house had felt growing up. Once he’d inherited, Henry had tried to change it, donating many of the collections his father had amassed to various museums and doing his best to make the place somewhere that his wife would wish to live in.

Of course, back then he’d assumed he would marry Lily, that the house would ring to the sound of children’s voices. She’d had great plans for the property, he knew, though looking back he realised she’d wished to make it bigger and far grander than it was. Her ambitions were greater than he’d ever realised, more fool him.

When that dream went to hell, he’d stalked the empty house, not caring what the hell it looked like or if it fell down around him. All that had mattered was licking his wounds in private. Once that had become intolerable, he’d left, turning his back on it all for the best part of a decade. One could hardly wonder at it if the place was less than welcoming, and that was before one counted screams in the night and some mad fool dabbling in witchcraft or whatever mischief it was they were set upon. Henry sighed, picking half-heartedly at a delicious steak and kidney pie that he ought to be devouring, and only belatedly noticing he was being addressed.

“I beg your pardon, Helena,” he said, forcing his attention back to the present. “I was wool gathering.”

“So you were,” Helena said, smiling at him, a considering glint in her eyes that made him want to check his hair and cravat and tug at his waistcoat. It seemed… measuring somehow, as if she were estimating his worth. “I was just curious what you thought about Caroline Norton?”

Henry searched his tired brain for the name which seemed vaguely familiar, though not as an acquaintance. “The Custody of Infants Act?” he wagered.

Helena gave him an odd smile, a bit like a parent who’d assumed their child too dim to get the answer correct and was pleasantly surprised. “The very same.”

“Erm….” he began, a little hesitant. “I think she was stuck in an unhappy marriage with a man who tried to control her, and then tried to ruin her when he discovered she was too strong for him. She fought back and gained some measure of control over the right to her own children, which her idiot husband had no right to keep from her. Her fight has changed the law for many women in similar straits, and I believe she ought to be commended.”

There was a profound silence around the table which Henry could not read. He cleared his throat, feeling rather uncomfortable.

“Of course, I don’t know the ins and outs of it in detail. Only what I’ve read and heard via friends.”

Helena nodded, which seemed to be a gesture of approval, so he relaxed a little. He had the distinct impression he’d just passed a test but, for the life of him, he didn’t know what it was.

“Do you remember, Harry, the days when we said Henry couldn’t chaperone a sponge cake?” Helena asked.

His sister, who had just taken a sip of wine, choked. Jasper sprang to his feet and went to pat his wife on the back.

“There, there, Harry. Here, have a sip of water.”

Harriet took the glass from her husband with a grateful smile, casting Helena an accusatory glance.

“Very amusing, I’m sure,” Henry muttered, looking suspiciously around the assembled company.

Only Florence met his gaze, a challenging look in her eyes that made something hot and impatient stir in his guts. Christ. He ought to have gone home, corn dolls be damned. Between someone playing silly devils, screaming in the night and murdering sheep, and being anywhere near Florence Knight, he knew damned well which was the most dangerous.

Finally, dinner was at an end and Henry thought perhaps he could escape to the safety of his own room. Jasper had other plans for him.

“Fancy a drink, old man? I need a nightcap. Yes, yes, you can keep me company for a few minutes, can’t you?”

Henry sighed. Jasper clearly had something on his mind. He may as well get it over with.