Would he? At one time, yes, without question. Yet now his thoughts veered more often to a certain chestnut-haired woman with a defiant tilt to her head. He would always be Clara’s friend, but Juliet inspired something much deeper in him. Something that pulled at him with a force he couldn’t name, only feel.
Their feet kept time in the final steps, their fingers briefly intertwined before parting. “You are a better friend than I deserve, Clara, and I pray you will meet your match one day.”
Her nostrils flared, her fingers flexed—or did he imagine it? Hard to say as they parted for the last time and then reunited as the music slowed to a close. She curtseyed elegantly. He dipped a bow.
Her brilliant smile removed any doubt he’d had about offending her. Clearly she’d taken his remark in stride even though it hinted that his affections lay elsewhere.
“Thank you, Henry. If you will excuse me, I see my mother beckoning me from across the room.”
“Enjoy the evening.”
“Trust me, I shall.” With a wink, she sidestepped him.
Another song began, urging Henry away from the dance floor and the small respite of the normalcy of his former life—the one in which Charity knew no terror. He’d left her in good hands, though. Juliet was as keen to protect his sister as he was—and he still marveled at that. Finding such a woodland sprite that night with one of his bagged grouse had been a blessing in more ways than he’d expected.
Skirting the gathered guests, he strode the length of the ballroom to a set of double-wide doors opposite the main entrance, leading into the silent auction. Three strides past the threshold, his blood turned to ice. Dead ahead stood Charity and Juliet, cornered between a table and the imposing figure of a man in a black suit. The very same one he’d warned away from his sister barely a week ago.
Edwin Parker.
Chapter 14
Gritting his teeth, Henry crossed the room like a storm about to break and planted a hand on Parker’s shoulder. Better that than throttling the man. Beyond him, Charity’s eyes widened. So did Juliet’s.
“Parker.” The name flew past his lips hard and sharp. “I would have a word with you.”
Parker wrenched away, leaning heavily on his cane, then pivoted. If violence were a foreign language, Henry needed no translation for the hostility darkening his brown eyes. “I require no censure from you, Russell. I was just taking my leave.”
“Oh, but I insist.” He tipped his head towards the nearest corner.
“Very well,” he agreed, though his sucked-in lips looked as if he’d rather keep an appointment with the grim reaper. “I shall humour you, if only to avoid the scene you seem intent on creating.”
Without wasting a moment more, Henry strode away. Parker wasn’t nearly as quick on his feet, but each of his steps was determined.
“I told you to stay away from my sister,” he growled as soon as Parker came within hearing.
Parker planted his feet, staring him down. “I take orders from no man.”
“And yet you will have no choice when you are in gaol. I hear turnkeys spare no flying fists when it comes to insubordinate convicts.”
“Oh, Russell.” Parker shook his head. “I tire of your threats. I have done nothing untoward against Charity, though I can see you do not believe me.”
He huffed a snort. “Why should I?”
Parker studied him, an almost-imperceptible twitch tightening his left eye. “If I meant your sister any harm, do you really think I would be stupid enough to be so obvious?”
The thought lodged under Henry’s skin like a sliver too far embedded to be removed. Parker’s words, his momentary flash of weariness, and the bitterness in his tone didn’t add up to a villain bent on frightening a woman to flee her home. And if logic played out and Parker truly did mean ill intent towards Charity, he would likely work harder to remain anonymous instead of approaching her outright at a public function.
Unless he was just trying to throw him off the scent.
No. His fists clenched with a force that trembled up his arms. He could trust no one when it came to the safety of his sister. He wasn’t about to lower his guard when so much was at stake.
“I caught you staring at Charity at the Harvest Festival, and now this.” He swept his hand towards his sister. “What am I supposed to believe?”
“Believe whatever you like, but do not let your preconceived notions cloud your judgement.” Parker advanced a step, the set of his jaw grim. “You may think me many things, but I am no fool. Nor am I an enemy. If your aim tonight is to accuse me, then by all means do so, but I detect there are greater matters afflicting you and your sister.”
Henry swallowed. Hard. What on earth had he discussed with Charity and Juliet? Then again, it could be a bluff, a closely heldhand of cards that contained nothing but deuces and a useless joker. “Pretty words, Parker, but I do not trust you.”
“That is your prerogative.” He shrugged one shoulder. “But know this … some men are reckless in their anger. I am not one of them. Despite what you or she may think, I would do anything to ensure her well-being.”
