“Very well, you have my full attention, I promise you.”Pere placed her hands in her lap and waited, her fingers drumming a silent rhythm against her knee, a habit born of impatience that betrayed her growing apprehension.
“Yesterday, when I was shopping on Bond Street, and you were visiting the modiste, and I was at the milliner?”Anna began.
“Of course.”
“Well, I didn’t mention it at the time because I wanted to speak with Henley first.”
“Naturally.”Pere narrowed her eyes slightly, waiting.
The clock on the mantel ticked loudly in the silence, each second amplifying the knot in her stomach.
“And… it would seem that our outing at the theater has created quite a stir.”
Pere shook her head.“Whyever for?Was it so shocking that we attended?”
“No,” Anna exhaled softly.
“Please, the suspense is killing me.”
“Why, what my wife is trying to say with delicacy and patience, is that there is talk going around regarding you and Lord Hawthorne, and given his reputation, yours is now called into question,” Henley finished, waving his hand with a flourish.“And I’ll be addressing this with him shortly; I already sent a missive.”Henley’s voice carried that familiar protective growl, his jaw set in the way it did when he was preparing for battle—be it with words or fists—and Pere felt a flicker of irritation at being treated like fragile china.
Pere let out a deep sigh.“What are they saying, specifically?”
“Apparently, you were sitting quite close, and he was whispering—”
“You two were directly behind me, proper chaperones and all, not that I was attending with Lord Hawthorne as his companion…”
“Yes, that is all true, but you understand how gossip works; even if there’s no foundation, the whisper of scandal…”
“Is enough.It’s irritating.”
“It is.”
“And unfortunately, it doesn’t aid you in your quest for a husband, Pere.It calls into question…” Henley paused, not finishing the delicate sentence.
His eyes softened, the brotherly concern cutting through his gruff exterior, reminding her that his protectiveness stemmed from love, not control.
“Lovely,” Pere replied with sarcasm.“I’m compromised without any of the excitement of the scandal.”
“Pere!”Henley scolded.
“I wouldn’t ever say that out loud anywhere else; calm yourself.I’m just frustrated.And nor will it be welcome news to Lord Hawthorne.”
“He’ll fare far better than you, sister.After all, it is his reputation that’s calling yours into question.”Henley leaned against the mantel, crossing his arms, his posture a barrier against the vulnerability of the conversation.
“What’s more frustrating,” Pere continued, as if her brother hadn’t spoken, “is that he turned down a merry widow; she was quite persistent too.And he politely declined, and that should have been clear to anyone watching that he has some moral character.”The memory flashed—Gabriel’s tense shoulders, his charming yet firm dismissal of Lady Whitewood—and Pere felt a surge of defensiveness, a need to shield the man who had shown her glimpses of depth beneath his rakish façade.
“I… have many questions,” Anna spoke, sharing a look with her husband.
Anna’s curiosity was gentle, not accusatory, her head tilted in that way that invited confession without demand.
“And they are?”Pere asked, waving her hand.
Henley lifted his, halting any further conversation.“Begin again.”
“What part?”
“All of it.How the devil do you know he declined an invitation of that sort?”
