“Catherine,” John said. “We can’t stand here and pretend all is well.”
“If you have something to say to your sister, John, by all means say it.” She leaned down and picked up her child. “I am going to take Griff to look at the ruins and tell him a very neutered version of how his parents met. Before I do so, however, I want you to know, Henrietta, that I bless your marriage to Trem and trust you will be happy with him.”
She smiled at Henrietta and strode off with Griff.
Henrietta’s heart clenched in her chest. Catherine—she always came to her defense. She was the best sister-in-law anyone could ask for.
Once she had departed, Henrietta turned to look at her brother. “Can you tell me why you insist upon being angry with Trem?”
“Insist?” her brother said, reeling back. “I don’t insist. Honor demands it.”
“How? How does honor demand it?”
“Please. Don’t try and convince me that he hasn’t already debauched you. He stole you away and took your virtue. My sister. After all the time we have spent together, he treats me—you thus.”
Henrietta’s temper flared at such hypocrisy from her brother. “No, you spoke rightly the first time, brother. You speak only for yourself and your own hurt pride. And what a hypocrite you are. You tupped Catherine how many times in Edington Hall before you married her? I’m not naïve either.”
Her brother blanched. “That is different.”
“Why? Because Catherine was alone and unprotected?”
“No,” he said, scowling. “Because she wasn’t my best friend’s sister.”
“It amounts to the same thing in the end.”
“Retta,” he shouted. “He disrespected me. I had no idea where you were and he went to find you—and he didn’t bring you back. And he said I didn’t protect you. How can you excuse such comments?”
“You were just as bad as him. You told him he ruins everything. That he always cocks everything up. Is that any way to speak to your best friend?”
“I was angry.”
“Well, so was he.”
John shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I was happy when you two became engaged. But then he stole you and nearly ruined you—I’m only here now because, if I don’t condone this match, you’ll become a scandal. More so than you have already. And because, for some reason I don’t understand, you say that you still want to marry him.”
“I do,” she spat, “and that should be good enough for you. What happened to your new liberal perspective on what it means to be a young lady? How you trusted me?”
“I am trusting you. I am here, aren’t I? With my wife and my child. I trust you. I just don’t trust him. Or respect what he has done.”
“I didn’t want to return to London. We went to see Mary Forster. It was what I wanted. To see her before my wedding.”
“You can’t understand,” John ground out. “It’s not about what you wanted—it’s about what he owed me, as your brother and his best friend.”
“If you’re going to insist upon being this hypocritical, then there is nothing I can say. Have it your way. Hate Trem forever. Throw away more than twenty years of friendship because he had the temerity to fall in love with your sister.”
John said nothing, just stared at her, his mouth a firm line. Speaking to him, she thought to herself, was like talking to a stone wall. The truth was that John wouldn’t move until he wanted to. It didn’t matter what she said, or what Trem said, or even what Catherine said.
Then it occurred to her that she had it exactly right. He was angry that Trem had fallen in love with her. That he had picked her. Not John.
“Do you want to know what I think, John? I don’t think you are upset Trem stole me. I think you’re upset I stole Trem. He was all yours and I took him. Well, you shouldn’t have expected him to stay the same forever. All of your lives he’s had no one but you and Leith and Montaigne—but mostly you. And you don’t like the fact that, now, he doesn’t need you the way he used to.”
“I can’t listen to this nonsense any longer,” John said, turning on his heel and walking off in the direction that Catherine and Griffon had traversed.
For the second time that morning, Henrietta sat down on one of the Tremberley ruins. This time, however, she cried.
Chapter Thirty-One
Trem had already had enough of wedding guests. With matrons lining his halls, his staff in a flutter trying to accommodate the needs of so many, Mr. Foxcroft pestering him about decorations and the menu, and his best friend still not speaking to him—well, Trem was beginning to understand why some couples chose Gretna Green.
