He continued on, then paused as the gears in his mind clicked into place.He had solved the mystery—why his mother had invited Hawthorne.A scapegoat.He had to give her credit for the machinations.If any scandal surfaced from the house party, London’s gossips wouldn’t look to his family as the culprits—they would assume it was Hawthorne.
Bloody brilliant.Horrifically unfair, but brilliant nonetheless.He gave a slight shake of his head.Before he could greet another guest, the butler arrived to announce dinner.
It was at that moment Henley saw Lady Anna.Flanked by her parents, she was nearly protected from sight.Her light green gown complemented her fair skin perfectly, casting a golden hue over her.He waited, willing her to look his way.She turned her head but then paused as Edwin approached, bowing.The earlier conversation with his brother swirled in his mind once more.This was not the time nor place to step forward.He would need patience.And if boxing had taught him anything, it was to wait for the right moment—and then to strike.It was always worth the wait.
Henley glanced around, knowing he had a part to play in the pageantry of it all as gentlemen and ladies began their procession toward the dinner hall.The seating arrangement at the table was assigned—his mother had likely executed the positions with precision, for both Pere’s and Edwin’s benefit.The footmen would seat each guest according to the predetermined plan, and then the service would begin.
Henley watched as Edwin was seated beside Lady Anna, her parents on the other side of him, closing her into a neat family circle—the expected family circle.
Henley found his seat and gave a silent inward chuckle as Lord Hawthorne settled beside him, making up the farthest edge of the table.
“Good evening,” Hawthorne greeted.
“Good evening to you as well,” Henley replied, mindful of his duties as host, and continued the conversation.“I hope your travels were pleasant?”
“Indeed.As pleasant as a trek from London can be, I suppose.I recently purchased a new carriage—it was the perfect excuse to decide if it was worth the price I paid.”
Henley regarded the man, noting his relaxed demeanor.If he were an opponent in the boxing ring, he’d label him as experienced and confident—not one to be taken lightly.But not unfair, which was the most important aspect.He decided, in that moment, that regardless of his reputation, Hawthorne wasn’t a bad egg.Perhaps not the most moral with women, but at least he did not pretend to be something he was not.
“And what did you decide?Was it indeed worth it?”
Hawthorne lifted his freshly filled glass of claret.“Yes.Actually.I had my doubts, but it really wasn’t a terrible experience.As I’m sure you know, a poorly sprung carriage can be a nightmare.”
“Yes.For any length of time, let alone a two-day journey.”
“One,” Hawthorne corrected him.
Henley frowned, then lifted his own glass.“Pardon?”
“I rode by horseback, then collected my new carriage about halfway here.I was having some additional custom work accomplished, and oddly enough, London couldn’t provide the service I needed.”
“Ah.And what service was that, if I may ask?”Henley inquired just as the footman presented the soup course.The rich scent of mock turtle soup rose with the steam from the bowl.
“I’d… rather not say in polite company,” Hawthorne replied, keeping his eyes on his bowl as he took a spoonful of soup, though his lips quirked into an amused grin.
“Very well.My curiosity is piqued, but I’ll leave you to your mysteries.”Henley glanced up as a familiar laugh caught his attention.
Lady Anna held a gloved hand before her lips, as if to suppress laughter, sharing a smile with Pere seated to her left.On her right, Edwin whispered something lowly to her, causing another giggle.
“Interesting.I thought there was something there, but damn.”Hawthorne’s low voice interrupted Henley’s thoughts.
“Pardon?”Henley schooled his features and turned to his dinner partner.
Hawthorne waved a hand dismissively.“I suspect you know what I mean, but I’ll not press you.Leave you to your mysteries as well, though…” He leaned in slightly.“I’d not wear your emotions so clearly on your face—not in this crowd.No one else might be paying attention presently, but eventually they will, and the scandal you’re trying to avoid will be unavoidable.”He shrugged and resumed his soup.
Henley regarded him.“Things aren’t always what they seem.”
“But more often than not, they are exactly what they seem,” Hawthorne replied.“I give no judgment—from someone such as myself, it would be laughable.”He chuckled lightly.“But if I may offer some very unsolicited advice—”
“You may offer whatever advice you wish.Whether it will be taken is an entirely different story.”
Hawthorne nodded.“You know, I know your brother better than I know you, but I think I like you better.”He nodded again.“Use every opportunity, and if you don’t have one, make it.Persistence often pays off, and I think you have more to offer.And she’s not without knowledge, is she?”Hawthorne frowned slightly, glanced to her, then back to Henley.
Henley dared not look, not wishing to make the topic of their conversation obvious.“Yes, she is aware.”
Hawthorne shook his head.“Then use it.And I know you’re quite the boxer… You soundly gave a lethal shot to my friend’s pride the other day.”He lifted his glass and took a sip.
“You know Bigsby?”
