The Bad Luck Bride (The Brides of St. Ives #1)(57)
He looked affronted, which made Alice even angrier. What else was she to think? In all their lives he’d never looked at her with anything but brotherly affection. All those hours in the library, when she was dreaming about him falling in love, he’d remained the perfect gentleman. Never had she had one inkling that he saw her as anything but a little girl. Yes, they had gotten carried away the other night, and yes, Henderson had seemed to enjoy the moment, but she had practically thrown herself at him. She had gone into his room half naked. What healthy man would have turned away a woman who acted like such a wanton?
He took a few steps away, then jerked his head for her to follow him. The party in front of them laughed at something Lord Berkley said, and Alice ground her teeth together. It was clear to her that Henderson had somehow recruited his lordship into helping his cause and she prayed Berkley didn’t know the entire sordid story.
“I want to court you because I love you. I have loved you, as a matter of fact, for years.”
Alice narrowed her eyes, but her heart gave a painful twist. “I don’t believe you. You left.”
His eyes flickered briefly, darkly. “I know. I shouldn’t have. I have so much to explain to you.” He darted a look to the others. “I fear I shall never have the opportunity. But I want you to know that I am not giving up.” He grinned and her heart sang. “Fair warning.”
Alice wanted nothing more than to kiss that grin off his face. She looked over to where Lord Berkley was still entertaining his audience. “He is your partner in crime, isn’t he?”
“I haven’t a clue what you mean,” he said, but it was obvious that he did. “Shall we join the others? Your father has already given me two scathing looks and I am treading in dangerous waters as it is after being thrown out of your house.”
“You were not thrown out.” He lifted a brow. “It was strongly hinted that you should leave only because it was clear Lord Northrup was upset. But I daresay, with Lord Berkley suddenly expressing interest in me, poor Northrup will soon fall out of favor. He’s not really interested, is he?”
“No.” And then he said the sweetest thing. “That…doesn’t bother you, does it?”
“Would you step aside if I was interested in him?”
“Not in a million years.” And just before they reached the other group, he said, “I really did come to stop the wedding, you know.” Then he turned and jogged ahead, leaving her to stare in disbelief at his retreating back.
*
Now that Henderson had made his declaration, the sense of panic he felt at the thought of losing Alice forever only grew, until it felt like a living thing inside his gut. Every time she looked at Lord Northrup, laughed at something he said, or gave him a look of understanding, Henderson wanted to carry her away like some primitive man. Instead, he had to suffer their looks, Northrup’s proprietary manner, as if it were a forgone conclusion that they were to be married.
It did not escape his attention that the Hubbards were assessing Berkley as a possible son-in-law. They never looked at him in that light, never gave him the assessing look Lord Hubbard was now giving the earl as Berkley commented on a particularly good example of Lady Hubbard’s prized roses. Alice’s hand was now firmly tucked in the crook of Northrup’s arm and Henderson had a feeling he would not be able to drag her away from the determined man. What made it almost worse was that Northrup had dismissed him as a rival and was completely centering his attention on Berkley, who had absolutely no interest in Alice. Thank God. For if he had, Henderson was quite certain he would never have Alice for himself. The Hubbards were just that smitten. Berkley had an ease about him, a confidence that he was likely born with.
For her part, Alice was pointedly ignoring him, and Henderson did not know if this was a good thing or bad.
“Mr. Southwell.” Henderson looked down to see Christina standing next to him and wondered how long she’d been there and if she’d noticed how intensely he’d been staring at her sister. “Is it true you saw Mr. Turner just before he died?” She’d lowered her voice so no one but he could hear her question.
“I don’t know that it was directly prior, but I saw him that night, yes.”
Christina chewed her lip a bit. “When I was very little, before you were Joseph’s friend, my brother had a group of friends. We would all go to the beach and they would ride the waves in. I used to wish I were a boy and older so I could play with them. Boys seemed to have so much more fun than girls.” She looked over to where her parents were, still engaged in conversation with Lord Berkley. “They’re all dead.”
Henderson looked sharply at Christina. “What do you mean?”
“All of them. Joseph, Tristan Cummings, and now Sebastian. And Peter before that. He was the first.”
“Peter?”
“Peter Jeffreys. He died before you met Joseph, I believe. Don’t you think that’s odd? That all of them who were friends are dead? I was thinking about that last night, and it occurred to me that it seems an unlikely coincidence.”
“Indeed,” Henderson said, his brow furrowed.
Christina gave him a small smile, as if glad he was taking her seriously. “Once I realized that, I started wondering why. Why would someone kill them all, if indeed they were all murdered? Joseph’s death was an accident so perhaps I’m just being silly. Still…”