There was no use wondering. She already knew the answer. He would be horrified—just like her brother, just like Catherine, just like everyone else.
She opened her eyes, resolved to somehow, someway, solve this problem without having to marry Justin.
Her gaze fell on the street below her window. She gasped aloud.
Because she saw the man himself.
The Viscount of Tremberley.
He was standing in the street with the Baron of Drent and they were dragging…
Dear God.
They were dragging the Earl of Hartley towards the door of Breminster House.
Chapter Three
Damn the Earl of Hartley, Trem thought, as they reached the front door. Not only was he a loudmouth, but he was heavy as the devil himself.
“Hoist him higher, Drent,” he scowled, convinced that the young lordling wasn’t doing his half of the labor.
“I am,” Drent responded, his irritation just as evident. “I don’t see why we have to bring him into the house. This is a mad scheme.”
“Unless you want to be drawn and quartered with your friend, Drent,” Trem spat out, “I’d keep your opinions to yourself.”
The younger man huffed but kept quiet. Good. Trem knew he shouldn’t take his anger out on Drent…but he wasn’t in the mood to be fair.
Trem raised his hand to knock on the heavy oak door, but just as his knuckles were about to hit wood, the door swung open.
And then she was there. In front of him. Henrietta Breminster. She was holding a candle, her face illuminated, and the sight made his mouth go dry. He forgot about the heavy weight of Hartley on his shoulder. He forgot, for a moment, why he was even dragging the man to Breminster House in the first place. Instead, he was lost in her. She was slightly breathless, as if she had run to the door, and her soft blue eyes stared up at him in clear questioning. Her hair was bundled loosely at her neck. The light brown tendrils spilled onto her cheeks and neck and caught the candlelight.
And then his gaze fell on her attire and he nearly swore aloud. She was wearing only a loose robe, not even a dress, as if she had been about to retire for the evening before she had seen them and come running. Somehow, just by looking at her, he knew that she was wearing only her shift underneath the thin robe. He could imagine the lush curves covered in soft, secret skin, how good she would feel—
God damn it.
What was wrong with him?
With these thoughts, he didn’t deserve the title that mattered most to him in the world. Not the one of viscount, which he had never had much use for, but that of John’s best friend.
She was Henrietta, John’s little sister, not a Covent Garden wench, offered up for him to salivate over. Hell, he was here to defend her honor, not take it himself. She was supposed to be like a sister to him and an innocent debutante…even if her debut had now happened almost four years ago.
“What in the devil’s arsehole are you doing here?” she hissed at him, the fury in her voice making the hairs on his arms stand up. The pressure of Hartley’s weight came back in full force.
“Where is John?” he demanded. In truth, it had not occurred to him that he would see Henrietta herself. He had imagined that he and John would handle it together. Two men solving the problem in front of them, disciplining a young lordling and his accomplice who had stepped out of bounds. That was as far as he had gotten with his plan.
“He isn’t at home. He and Catherine aren’t scheduled to return from the opera for at least another hour. Only me and baby Griffon and the servants are here.”
With these words, she turned to look at Drent and the unconscious Hartley. If he hadn’t been suffering under the weight of the man, he would have laughed at her expression. She looked openly horrified by the presence of all three of them.
“Good evening, Lady Henrietta,” Drent said, trying to approximate a bow from underneath Hartley.
Henrietta shook her head, not even tendering this effort with a reply.
“Why would you bring them here?” she spat at Trem. “What is wrong with you?”
Trem gritted his teeth. She had some nerve. He was trying to help her.
“Let us inside. The night is dark, but if someone sees us, we’ll have more trouble than we already do.”
