“You didn’t defend yourself against my claim you are thinking romantically about her.”
Henry should have dissuaded him of that at once. “Because it’s too preposterous to dignify with a remark.”
“Of course,” his friend said.
Henry rolled his eyes. Waverly would say anything to get him to step aside from his pursuit of Lady Madeleine. On the first night she’d appeared in a ballroom, it was Waverly who had pointed her out and wondered aloud who the beautiful creature could be.
When Waverly found out she was an earl’s daughter, he’d liked her even more. Yet Henry outranked him and, thus, would triumph, in all likelihood, if there had been any competition among suitors. There hadn’t been. They’d all stepped aside to allow his pursuit, and he’d become the sole wooer, as it were.
He sighed. It seemed a little mercenary when he considered it. He believed he had spent more time talking to Miss Rare-Foure than he had to Lady Madeleine. He would have to remedy that in the near future.
“So, Pelham,” came Waverly’s amused voice, “are you truly only sampling Rare chocolate, or do you intend to sample the chocolatier as well?”
Chapter Seven
Henry couldn’t verywell clobber Waverly in the middle of Bond Street although he was sorely tempted. Instead, he kept walking and thought the best defense of Miss Rare-Foure’s reputation was to pretend his friend must be joking.
“Amusing, Waverly. My sights, as you are well aware, are set firmly upon Lady Madeleine. Are you hoping to push me aside and derail my suit with ridiculous innuendo to clear the field for your own pursuit of Brayson’s daughter?”
Waverly laughed. “Maybe. But Miss Rare-Foure is certainly pretty enough for a tumble.”
Outrage and an unexpectedly strong desire to protect her arose in Henry.
“She is pretty enough and also decent and smart enough to warrant a husband who cherishes her. Taking a tumble with a shopkeeper’s daughter is rather last decade, don’t you think, Waverly?”
His friend shrugged. “I suppose. Look at Lord Langley marrying that nobody from America instead of merely bedding her.”
“A nobody with a fortune,” Henry pointed out, glad they were back to idle chatter about other people and not Miss Rare-Foure. In truth, he’d already spent too much time thinking about her, and didn’t need to spend more time going over her virtues with his friends.
He had planned his marital path, and it was a beneficial one to both parties. He would get a beautiful wife with a good-sized dowry who was raised to make a fine hostess. Privately, he hoped Madeleine would be as interesting and friendly, as smart and joyful, and as pleasant to be around as Miss Rare-Foure. He had no reason to believe that when they got to know each other that wouldn’t be the case.
“Where are we going?” Waverly asked.
“Haven’t the foggiest,” Henry told him, and they laughed. “Are you attending the dinner party at Lady Peabody’s tonight?”
“Absolutely not. They tried to partner me with a last-season debutante, Miss Someone or Other. Honestly, it doesn’t matter. Once you arrive with Lady Madeleine, no one will look at any other female.”
