“Although Lord Canterfield is only a baron, he is ambitious. He wants to rise in Parliament, and connection to the Huntington name would assist him in that aspiration. Your dowry would not harm him, either.”
“Do you approve of Lord Canterfield, then?”
He shrugged. “He seems affable enough, but his interest in you appears limited to your value to his ambitions. You deserve better.”
She pursed her lips and nodded. “Thank you. Now, what of Lord Jeffrey? He is a second son, not heir to a title. How does he qualify?”
“Ah, Lord Jeffrey.” Henry grunted disgust. “He is the second son of a duke, but his older brother went missing some years ago. Even now, he pursues his brother’s death certificate through the courts. He will likely become heir to his father’s dukedom within the year.”
“But…” Lucy prompted.
“But he is an unapologetic rake.”
“That balding little man is a rake?”
“Yes. He has ruined many a reputation with promises of future nobility. If I were you, I would spit in his eye and turn him away. However, do what you must.”
She stifled a giggle with her fist. “I look forward to doing just that before this affair is over. Tell me then about Lord Rayleigh.”
“Ah, yes. Rayleigh is a notorious gamer and drinker. I fear he would squander your dowry in no time.”
“And your Bow Street knight?”
Henry caught the playful accusation in her words, but also the angst beneath. “Sir Hugh earned his title during the Peninsular War and is a favorite of the Duke of Wellington. I don’t know him well but trust his character.”
“And he is not here to arrest me?”
“No.” The half-truth chipped another shard from his soul.
Lucy fell silent, examining her folded hands. Then she glanced up at him, her eyes flat. “So, you approve of Sir Hugh?”
Henry wanted to tell her that none of them was suitable, but he did like Sir Hugh, even if his presence was not as a suitor. “If I had to choose among them, I would select him.”
She lowered her head again, seemingly struck by melancholy. He waited, not knowing what to say. When she finally lifted her face, questions riddled her countenance. “Last night in the ballroom you appeared withdrawn. Were you disappointed with my performance?”
“Of course not. It pains me to admit as much, but your performance was nothing short of magnificent.”
Blush crawled up her neck, but she squinted at him. “Yoursocial interaction, on the other hand, seemed limited to whispered conversations with Lady Isabella. She would certainly help your social status.”
The mild accusation stirred his ire. “What does it matter to you? You seemed more than content to flirt with James. In fact, you appeared quite taken with the man.”
“You disapprove of my conversation with your brother?” The glint of her eyes told Henry she was ready to spar.
“Yes, I disapprove.”
“Why? Because he shows interest in me?”
“No. Any interest he has in you is merely a financial transaction, nothing more.”
Her jaw trembled. “Because I am not fit to attract the interest of an earl? Because I am not enough of a lady for a true gentleman?”
“Because he means to capture or destroy you!”
Lucy leaned away from him, apparently taken aback by his explosive reply. Regret flooded him, but before he could recover, her eyes flashed. “Tell me what you mean by that, Henry Beaumont, or I swear, I will snatch out your eyes.”
He lurched up and paced away from her. She rose to follow. “Tell me what you mean!”
He turned to face her. “I cannot. I will not.”
