Henry was different. And already the blaze of anger and resentment that had sustained her during their last meeting had slumped, mere embers instead of a flame.
If it were not for her inability to bear children, perhaps she would have embraced the opportunity to have some time alone with him.
As it was, she knew she could not provide him with the things he needed—most importantly, children—and she could not bear for resentment to grow between them once more.
It was better this way.
When he entered the room, however, she caught her breath. There was no way for him to be anything other than startlingly handsome, but it was as though the last few hours had aged him, casting his face in a gaunt, tired light.
To suppose she was the sole cause would be foolishness, and yet she felt a twinge of guilt in her chest.
“Eynsham,” George said, greeting his friend as though he saw nothing amiss. “Come, sit by the fire. Drink? No? Well, I suppose I can’t count myself as surprised.”
Henry’s gaze stuttered across her face, and his expression was confused as he glanced at George and the book lying on his chair. Then fond amusement replaced the confusion. “Reading again?”
“A man must have his vices,” George said, putting the book to one side.
“Why am I here, Comerford?”
“Louisa also wishes to return to London,” he said bluntly, and Louisa scowled. “She intends to travel post alone, and I’ve informed her that would not be sensible for a lady of her station.”
“I could very well hire a chaise at the first inn I see,” she said.
“You could,” George admitted, “but given that Henry also wishes to travel to London, I wish you would travel under his protection.”
Henry’s brows caught together; his throat worked. He looked, for a long time, as though he intended to denounce the entire plan, and she hoped he would. Then, to her disappointment, he nodded slowly. “Are you offering us one of your carriages, Comerford?”
“I am. Do you accept?”
“I do.”
“And you?” he asked Louisa. “Do you accept?”
Louisa drew in a long, steadying breath. Her instinct was to refuse the offer and insist on hiring her own coach. But she could hardly ignore the sense in the offer. A travel companion and the offer of a free coach. Money was of no consideration, but convenience was.
“Why are you returning to London?” she asked Henry.
His expression was smoothly impassive, as remote as it had been when they’d first met again. “I have some business there, and then I intend to return to the country.”
“You see?” George clapped his hands together. “It is the perfect scheme. It releases my obligation to see you safe while I am here, and ensures you both return to London at the first possible moment.”
“I had not intended to stop overnight,” she said, raising her chin.
Henry merely inclined his head. “Very well.”
They were in store for a night of discomfort, but without openly admitting she wished to avoid him, there was nothing more she could say. And if it would ease George’s conscience, then it was the least she could do after he had arranged this entire house party for her benefit.
“I’m leaving Caroline here,” she said to George. “Embrace the opportunity while you can.”
“She is a mistake waiting to happen, and I am a fool willing to dive in headfirst.” George’s voice was matter-of-fact, but there was a wry twinkle in his eye. “But I suppose I will do my best to make a proper match when I return to London.”
Louisa kissed his cheek in a burst of sudden affection. “Thank you for all you’ve done.”
“You’re the sister I never had.” He patted her hand. “Be off with you now, and be safe. I’ll instruct the groom to bringthe carriage around for you, so come down the moment you’ve packed and I’ll see you off.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
By the time the carriage was drawn around to the front of the house, both Henry and Louisa were ready to go. A few tired footmen strapped their luggage to the roof, and inside the carriage, a lamp burned, sending flickering light across the leather seats.
