Page 7 of Dare it all for Love

With great dignity, she turned and walked away, sitting down with her back to him on the far side of the guests.

There was an uncomfortable silence and Henry was too aware of the weight of disapproval directed towards him. God, what an arse. More so because now he owed the wretched girl an apology. Somehow the silence was broken, and conversation began once more, but the convivial atmosphere had been tarnished and the picnic broke up not long after. Henry was unsurprised when his sister accosted him on the walk back to the house.

“What the devil is wrong with you, Henry?” she demanded, her eyes sparkling with anger behind her spectacles. “I’ve never seen you act so badly. Poor Florence was mortified. How dare you speak to her so, and in front of everyone? Surely you know how fragile a young woman’s self-esteem is, and for you to belittle her in front of her friends and family….”

“I know, I know,” Henry gritted out. “I’ll apologise.”

“I should think so,” Harriet snapped, scrutinising him with the delicacy of a rapier. “But what I don’t understand is why. You’ve never been rude to anyone in your life, certainly not a young woman.”

Henry groaned, wishing his sister were a little less perceptive.

“I suppose these blasted dolls have rattled me more than I wish to admit,” he lied, grasping at straws quite literally. “And I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night for obvious reasons. I… I’m tired and bad-tempered. Forgive me, Harry. I’ll make it up to her, I swear.”

Harry snorted. “Indeed you will. You’re only lucky I’m here speaking to you and not Helena. She’s furious, I might add.”

“Oh, Lord.”

Well played, you stupid bastard. Now, not only must he give a heartfelt apology to the woman he’d been doing his utmost to avoid, but he’d offended her mother, who would no doubt tell her husband about it too. So, his friend, Gabriel, would also be angry with him. No, strike that. The way Gabriel protected his daughters, he’d be lucky not to have his tongue ripped out for speaking so to Florence.

“I’ll speak to her at once,” he promised, only to have Harriet shake her head.

“No, you won’t. Helena is taking her straight home for she has a headache, and no wonder. You may come tomorrow morning, by which time I hope you will have come up with a better excuse than the one you offered me.”

With that, his sister stalked off, clearly in high dudgeon.

Henry turned as a friendly hand slapped him on the shoulder. Harriet’s husband, Jasper Cadogan, the Earl of St Clair, grinned at him.

“Buck up, old man. The fair sex ever did turn a man’s brain to treacle.”

Henry frowned at him, not understanding.

“I was awful to poor Harry for years,” Jasper whispered, before winking at him and striding off after his wife.

Hell and damnation!

Chapter 2

Dearest Arabella,

I am so glad you are happy at Royle House, not least because you may have another house guest soon.

Oh, Bella, I’m so mortified. Henry gave me such a set down yesterday at the picnic, and in front of everybody, too. It was all I could do not to cry or throw something at him. There was a large apple pie which would have made an excellent weapon, but then I reminded myself that I have manners, even if he doesn’t, the brute. Except he does, with everyone else.

Why does he hate me so? I don’t understand it, and now I must endure an apology from him, which will be simply excruciating. I know he’s only doing it because everyone is cross with him, not because he means it, and that just makes it worse. If things don’t get any better, I shall come and stay with you and learn every one of your parrot’s dreadful words. Perhaps he can teach me something to insult Henry badly enough that he won’t forget it, or me.

―Excerpt of a letter from Miss Florence Knight (daughter of Lady Helena and Mr Gabriel Knight) to Arabella Grenville, The Most Hon’ble, The Marchioness of Bainbridge (daughter of Mrs Alice and Mr Nathanial Hunt).

10thAugust 1839, Holbrook House, Sussex.

Florence spent a great deal of time getting ready the next morning, but she was determined to look her best. Damn Henry Stanhope for making her feel too much. She was angry and out of sorts, restless and frustrated, and it was all his fault. Why had she become infatuated with a man who couldn’t stand the sight of her? It was thoroughly absurd and so annoying to feel this way. Why couldn’t she make it stop? She was an intelligent woman and perfectly capable of rational thought. Yet she could not stop her heart from wanting a man who clearly held her in contempt. She was besotted, there was no escaping it, and there seemed to be nothing she could do about it, either. Perhaps it was a family trait, to be drawn to people who did not want or like you. Perhaps Mama had just been supremely lucky with Papa, and this strange fascination she had for Henry was nothing but a malfunction in her brain. She sighed as her maid put the finishing touches to her hair.

“Thank you, Maisie. It looks lovely.”

“You’re welcome, miss. You look good enough to eat, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Florence smiled gratefully at Maisie and took one last look at herself in the mirror. Her gown was a soft lilac and went well with her green eyes, somehow making the colour brighter by contrast. Not that it mattered, Henry was not coming to see her because he wished to, but to execute an unpleasant but necessary task. Like getting a tooth pulled, she thought with a grimace. Ah, well. Best get it over with.

She made her way down to the library to find her mama waiting for her.