Henrietta’s slippered feet softly slapped the black-and-white marble tiles. She’d returned to Cheswick House strangely deflated. Although she’d achieved her goal, she felt little satisfaction and no joy. Julian had received her proposal with all the enthusiasm one might exhibit at the prospect of having a bad tooth drawn.
“Well, child?” Lady Cheswick inquired, patting the cushion by her side. “What has transpired?”
Henrietta perched on the settle with a sigh. “Julian and I are to be wed.”
“Indeed?” Lady Cheswick replied, brows drawn. “Is this not what you desired? You hardly look the part of the expectant bride.”
“It is what I wanted,” Henrietta replied. “Julian is the only man I ever desired, but now I perceive that this marriage is only going to make me miserable for the rest of my days.”
“My dear, why would you say such a thing?” Lady Cheswick asked.
“It’s not that I thought he would make any declarations of undying affection,” Henrietta continued. “But the whole business felt so very . . . cold.”
“You surely surprised the man. What did you expect?”
“I don’t know,” Henrietta replied. “It is the perfect solution for us both, but it just feels all wrong somehow.”
“It is not too late to beg off. He might not like it, but ’tis better than making a mistake you may live to regret.”
“I haven’t changed my mind,” Henrietta said. She’d vowed to make the very best of her marriage, whether he grew to love her or not. “I just wish I had thought it through a bit more.”
“There is something else disturbing you?” Lady Cheswick asked.
“Yes,” Henrietta confessed. “His mistress.”
“I see.” Lady Cheswick replied with a nod. “And you believe he intends to keep her? That’s what troubles you?”
“Yes!” Henrietta confessed. “We didn’t exactly discuss it, but we agreed that we would each continue as best suits us. Julian does not wish to give up a house in town, so I can only assume she is the reason.”
“Then you must speak to him.”
“No, I will not. I swore I would not attach any strings to the money. If I did, he would only grow to resent me. I give it to him freely. If he breaks it off with her, that must also be done freely.”
“I regret adding to your distress, my dear, but that is highly unlikely to occur. Mistresses are an avaricious lot. If she learns of Julian’s new wealth, she is likely to cling to him all the tighter. Your only hope is that she knows of his present predicament and is already in search of another protector. Should she find one, your dilemma is no more.”
“Is that truly the way of it?” Henrietta asked slowly, shaking her head. “I can’t comprehend how a woman can allow herself to be passed from one man to the next, living solely on another’s whim.”
“Nevertheless, a mistress is more independent than a wife,” Lady Cheswick said. “A mistress may sever a relationship with her protector at any time for any reason. But a wife becomes her husband’s possession until death they do part.”
“That’s so unfair!” Henrietta declared.
“It is a man’s world, my dear. They make the rules. The only way for a woman to achieve happiness is to learn how to bend them to our will.”
“The men or the rules?” Henrietta asked.
Lady Cheswick smiled and inclined her head to the tea tray. “Would you pour please?”
“Henrietta Houghton!” Both women startled as Harry barged into the morning room, his face as purple as a beet. “A young woman does not go about town randomly proposing to chaps! It’s just not done, I tell you!”
“I see you’ve spoken to Julian,” Henrietta replied calmly. “Would you like a cup of tea, Harry?”
“No! I don’t want any bloody tea! I want you to come to your senses and return home at once.”
“As it happens, I will be returning home in two days’ time . . . with Julian,” she replied, setting down the porcelain teapot. “One lump or two, my lady?”
“Three,” Lady Cheswick replied. “And don’t spare the milk. Is your brother always so excitable? While I find it highly entertaining, one wonders if he might be at risk for an apoplectic seizure.”
“Harry’s generally a jovial chap,” Henrietta assured her aunt. “To be honest, I’ve never seen him quite like this.”
“What the devil are you thinking, Hen?” Harry continued his rant. “Julian is not husband material. He has nothing to offer you.”
“I am quite aware of his circumstances,” she said. “But thanks to Lady Cheswick,” she smiled at her great-aunt, “I am now in a position to help him.”
“But why, Hen? I know he’s a childhood friend, but he’s entirely inappropriate. If you have taken it into your head to marry, there are any number of eligible chaps—”
“I wish to marry Julian,” she reaffirmed. “Please sit down, Harry,” Henrietta urged, “and let us discuss this calmly.”
“But why Julian?” he asked, still looking incredulous. “He has no money, is about to lose his properties, and has even sold his commission. I know we’re longtime friends, but the man has absolutely nothing to recommend him.”
“Nevertheless, I believe we will suit one another,” she replied.