Ottilie forced a smile and accompanied her aunt to the parlor, but her mind remained plagued by the woman’s threat to expose her to Henry if she dared to see Jack again. Henry wouldn’t believe his mother—not without confronting Jack and Ottilie first. And therein lay the problem. She could not lie to her cousin. She would try to explain the truth, but he would never understand how she could have hidden away upstairs while he was inside Jack’s house and then spent the night under the same roof as that awful naked Lulu, whom he’d seen in Jack’s arms! It would end his friendship with both her and Jack. And she could not bear to lose Henry and probably Jack as well.
“Mama! Cousin!” Henry pushed himself out of his armchair and greeted them as they stepped into the parlor.
“Henry! I didn’t realize you had arrived,” Lady Hudsyn said. “Why didn’t Benson send word upstairs?”
“I instructed him not to. I knew you two were getting ready, and I did not wish to rush you.”
“Well, what a joy it is to see my son again. How did things turn out with the estate?”
“Excellent,” Henry said. “All is well. Now, how about I pour you each a glass of port?”
“Only a drop, dear.”
“You look rather pale for someone recently returned from the country,” Ottilie remarked as Henry handed her a glass of port. “One would think you spent all your time indoors.”
“Yes, well,” Henry said evasively and swallowed a gulp of his port.
“Lord Towne,” Benson announced from the doorway.
Henry frowned and shot a questioning glance at Ottilie before standing to shake the gentleman’s hand. “Lord Towne, what a pleasant surprise.”
“It is always a pleasant surprise to receive an invitation from Lady Hudsyn.” Lord Towne seated himself and smiled obsequiously at Ottilie.
She forced the remainder of her port down her throat. Would her aunt never give up?
Henry leaned toward her and whispered, “How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That I never left London.”
“You just told me.” She smiled.
Henry frowned. “I’m sorry I neglected to tell you, but I became happily entangled in my writing, and I needed not to be disturbed.”
“I see.”
“I finished my book of poetry.” He grinned.
“Oh, how wonderful!” Ottilie clapped her hands together in feigned surprise. “What an accomplishment! May I read it?”
“I left it with Mr. Bastin last night. I want to get his input first.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Lady Hudsyn interjected.
“Nothing, Mama, just sharing our news.”
“We would like to hear your news too, dear. If you care to share it with us.”
“Oh, I fear you and Lord Towne will find it a bore.”
Lady Hudsyn glowered at her son and turned to converse with Lord Towne.
“I hope you can forgive me for leaving you alone with Mama.”
“As long as you promise not to do it again,” Ottilie said.
Henry smiled, reached for her hand, and kissed it.
