He looked over his shoulder and saw a group of people wading into the meadow. Most had yet to look in their direction, but he could see a few had begun to cast their eyes towards them. Miss Seymour had undoubtedly spotted them from the way her eyes were trained on them and the anxious look on her face. And, unfortunately, the other person who looked directly at them was John. Trem’s stomach sunk. He would have preferred the Dowager Marchioness of Leith at this point to John himself.
He withdrew from Henrietta and, as quickly as possible, righted her skirts. Then, he pulled her behind the grotto.
“Fuck,” he said to her, kissing her despite the giant cock-up (pun very much intended) they had just made. “Well, we’ve really done it now.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“How many people saw us?” The moment they were alone on the morning of her wedding, Henrietta demanded an answer from Cassandra. It had been impossible to get her best friend by herself after the incident and, finally, Mrs. Seymour had quit the room. Henrietta had had to endure yesterday evening among her guests without knowing which had seen her in flagrante. It had been agonizing. When she had conversed with Lord Brightley, she had wondered, has this man seen me in the throes of passion? When she had played whist with Trem’s second cousin, Mr. Marsden, she had studied his face to see if he were struggling to keep gentlemanly composure.
It had been the eve before their wedding, of course, so even among the ton, they would pretend that they hadn’t seen bride and groom preempting their nuptials. But, still, they would judge harshly—and gossip about it to anyone who would listen back in London—so she had scanned every eye and glance for disapproval.
At least, she had known that Mrs. Seymour hadn’t seen, because she would have undoubtedly made more of a fuss. And the Dowager Marchioness of Leith wouldn’t have been able to keep the scorn off her face. Therefore, she was pretty sure those two matrons had been spared the sight of her and Trem vigorously coupling.
“Not too many, I don’t think,” Cassandra said, biting her lip. Henrietta was already in her wedding dress, with Trem’s mother’s tiara on her head. The ceremony itself was in a quarter of an hour and her stomach was churning—not least because she was sure she was about to walk down the aisle in front of a room full of people who had seen her in an indecent state yesterday afternoon. “But your brother, definitely.”
Henrietta wanted to sink her forehead onto the vanity table in front of her. She looked innocent and bridal in the glass—but the reality was anything but. She didn’t have any shame about what she had done with Trem yesterday (or any of the times before), but she wished no one else knew about it. She also would have preferred not to inflame her brother’s ire further.
“Anyone else?”
“I think Mr. and Mrs. Marsden,” Cassandra added. “But they merely looked amused! They seem very in love and likely to understand.”
“He’s a vicar!” Henrietta protested with a groan.
A tap sounded on the door. Cassandra and Henrietta exchanged a glance.
“It must be Catherine,” Henrietta said.
Cassandra crossed to the door and opened it.
“Sebastian!” she exclaimed, her tone somewhat vexed. “Darling, you can’t be here. We’re preparing for the wedding.”
Alarm shot through Henrietta. Sebastian knew better than to come to a bride’s rooms on her wedding day. It was practically scandalous for a man outside the family to do so, no matter if he was betrothed to a bridesmaid or not. He would only be here if something was wrong. Had her brother finally had a rage-induced apoplexy?
She stood up and crossed to the door. “Come in, Sebastian.”
From looking at his face, she could tell that she was right. His usually handsome and relaxed features looked drawn and nervous.
“What is it?”
“Hartley,” Sebastian said, his voice low. “He’s shown up. He seems calm, but he is insisting on seeing you. I was only able to stop him from bursting into the manor by telling him I would retrieve you. He is waiting in the orangery. I considered going to John or Tremberley immediately, but I wanted to respect your wishes in this matter. Both would be furious with me if they knew I came here first. I think we must tell them.”
God bless Sebastian, Henrietta thought. Fright pulsed through her veins. But Hartley only wanted to talk to her. No one had to even know he was here.
“Thank you, Sebastian,” she said, grasping his hand quickly to express her gratitude. “Thank you for coming to me first. I can talk to him. I will tell him to go. I can clear up the misunderstanding.”
“Henrietta,” Cassandra warned. “He may have seemed calm, but it is not safe for you to go alone. What if something happens? You should bring Sebastian. Or tell Trem.”
“Not Trem,” she choked out. She didn’t want this trouble to cloud today. She didn’t want Trem thinking about Hartley and her foolish conduct before their marriage. “No. I can go alone.”
“I can’t allow you to do that,” Sebastian said. “As a man of honor.”
“I can’t tell Trem!” she exclaimed. “Please.”
Sebastian took a deep breath. “All right. Hartley insisted upon seeing you alone. Luckily, he is in the orangery, so keeping an eye on you two should be easy. I will go with you and watch from the outside where he can’t see me. If anything goes wrong, I’ll be there.”
“Thank you,” Henrietta said. “Sebastian, I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”
“I am coming too,” Cassandra said, her voice firm.
