And Then She Fell(27)

Henrietta was sitting before her dressing table that evening, watching in the mirror as Hannah curled and pinned her hair, when there was a tap on the door and Mary looked in. Spotting Henrietta, Mary entered and shut the door, then crossed to stand to one side of Hannah.

Mary’s gaze swept over Henrietta and fixed on the necklace fastened about her throat. Satisfaction bloomed in Mary’s eyes. “Good. You’re still wearing it.”

“Hmm.”

At the noncommittal reply, Mary’s gaze rose to fix on Henrietta’s face. Henrietta avoided meeting her sister’s eyes—which promptly narrowed.

“Is it working?” Mary asked.

Henrietta wished she could lie, but this was Mary, who was not simply her bossiest sister but also the most acute. Attempting to lie to Mary never worked well. Henrietta opted for caution instead. “Possibly.”

“Yes! Wonderful!” Fists waving, Mary danced a little jig, then tipped her head back and said to the ceiling, “Thank you, Lady!”

Henrietta snorted.

Which brought Mary’s attention swooping back to her. “So who is it?”

“I’m not telling.”

Mary straightened. Folding her arms, she stared at Henrietta’s reflection. Eyes narrowing, Mary tapped a finger to her lips . . . then stopped. “James Glossup. That’s who it is—he’s your hero, isn’t he?”

Finally meeting Mary’s eyes, taking in her little sister’s triumphant expression, Henrietta narrowed her eyes direfully. “Under no circumstances will you dare say a word—not to anyone!”

Mary positively beamed.

Henrietta dragged in a breath, and remembered the one thing she held that would compel Mary’s silence. “If you want to get your hands on the necklace in the right way, as soon as maybe, then you will make absolutely certain not one word of your unconfirmed speculation passes your lips.”

Mary’s smile widened, but she held up a hand and promptly said, “I do so promise—word of a Cynster.”

“Humph!” Henrietta wanted to turn around to better study Mary, but Hannah was still working on her hair.

Mary, meanwhile, was still dancing—literally—with delight. She swirled in a complete circle, then headed for the door. “You have no idea how happy you’ve made me, Henrietta dear. And you may rest easy—I won’t blab a word, and will do nothing at all to get in your way. Well—of course, I won’t. I want that necklace in my hands—in the right way—as soon as may be.”

Pausing with her hand on the doorknob, Mary glanced back, and, eyes alight, added, “I just can’t wait.”

Ignoring Hannah’s efforts, Henrietta swung around, but Mary had already whisked out of the door. As it shut behind her, Henrietta sighed. “Do you have any idea,” she said, speaking to Hannah, “what—or rather who—that was all about? Who she’s got her eye on that she’s so eager to have this necklace?”

“No, miss. Not a clue.” Hannah paused, then asked, “But is it true? That Mr. Glossup is the one for you?”

Henrietta swiveled back and, in the mirror, caught Hannah’s wide-eyed gaze. “It might be. But you, too, will breathe not a word.”

“Not even half a word, miss.” Her face showing almost as much excitement as Mary’s, Hannah waved the curling iron. “Now do sit still, miss, and let me get this done.”

The exchange with Mary had brought home to Henrietta that she had, indeed, started to believe. Started to hope.

Hope, she was discovering, was a very awkward feeling.

Descending the steps into Lady Hollingworth’s ballroom, she saw James slipping through the crowd, making his way to the foot of the stairs to meet her—and she told her unruly heart to behave. Yes, he looked his usual polished, debonair self, every inch the wolf of the ton he so often claimed to be, and while he might be that . . . this afternoon, he’d been something else.

He’d been the gentleman who’d kissed her with such reverent delicacy that she still felt giddy whenever she recalled the moment.

They’d spent the drive back from Osterley Park discussing the various people they’d met there, but that had merely been a convenient smoke screen, one both of them had readily supported as a way to avoid having to deal immediately with what that deliciously simple kiss had revealed.

Had meant.

Truth be told, she still wasn’t sure what it had meant, only that it had meant something. That the moment had marked a change, a shift in their interaction.