And Then She Fell(64)
“I might have started searching, but I’m not going to say anything more at this point—so don’t ask.” Mary shot her a warning glance.
Henrietta held up her hand. “Very well—seven nights from tonight, the necklace will be yours, and then . . .”
Mary nodded in her usual determined fashion. “And then we’ll see.”
Henrietta saw Honoria waving, trying to get her attention. Quitting Mary’s side, she picked her way across the room to where Honoria, Duchess of St. Ives and wife of the head of the family, Devil Cynster, sat flanked by Patience, Vane Cynster’s wife, and Alathea, the wife of Gabriel Cynster. Now in their forties, all three were stylish matrons accustomed to wielding significant social and familial power, yet to Henrietta they were nearly as close as her older sisters, the twins, Amanda and Amelia, both of whom had yet to reach town. Since their marriages over ten years before, the twins had spent much of their time on their husbands’ estates, administering to said husbands and their bountiful broods. Henrietta frequently visited both households, but Honoria, Patience, and Alathea were usually in London, and usually attended the same entertainments Henrietta did, so they had in large part become her “London sisters”; certainly, that they viewed her in the light of a younger sister was not in any doubt.
Consequently, she wasn’t the least surprised when Alathea caught her hand, tugged her down to sit on a footstool they’d commandeered and had placed before them, then, when Henrietta had settled, stated, “It’s time to tell us the best part—how he proposed.”
When she hesitated, Patience chuckled. “You don’t need to tell us the setting—just give us the words.”
Fighting to straighten her lips, Henrietta said, “Just let me think, so I remember it properly . . . oh, that’s right. He asked if he shouldn’t wait and ask for Papa’s approval first.”
Honoria nodded. “Very proper.”
Henrietta grinned. “But when I told him that wasn’t considered necessary in our family, he said, ‘In that case, will you marry me, Henrietta Cynster, and make me the happiest of mortal men?’ ”
Patience and Alathea sighed.
Honoria smiled approvingly. “That’s very nicely put—James does, indeed, sound as if he’ll do. Given he’s such a close friend of Simon’s, I did wonder.” The last was said with a teasing look.
“It’s so very comforting when they profess their undying love.” Alathea heaved another sigh, then blinked, misty-eyed. “I still remember the rose in a crystal casket that Rupert sent me, with a note saying I held his heart—I still remember how I felt when I opened the casket and read that note.”
“I know just how you feel,” Patience said, in a similar, fondly reminiscent tone. “Although I rather suspect I had to work harder than you to hear the words.”
Honoria snorted. “I never got the words—not as such.”
Patience, Alathea, and Henrietta stared at her.
“Devil never told you he loves you, never vowed undying, unending love?” Patience sounded incredulous.
“Not in words,” Honoria stated. Her lips weren’t entirely straight. “Mind you, years later”—she tipped her head toward Henrietta—“around the time Amelia married, he did ask me, much in the manner of checking that someone hadn’t missed something obvious, whether I did, in fact, know that he loved me.”
“Ah, but wait!” Alathea raised a finger. “I recall hearing something about Devil delivering himself up in front of some madman and allowing said madman to shoot him in order to save you.” Alathea met Honoria’s eyes. “I daresay, after that, you didn’t really need further words.”
“Indeed.” Regally, Honoria dipped her head, but her own gaze, normally so incisive, had softened. “After that little exercise, words were quite redundant. If, combined with all the rest, a man is willing to risk his life for you, there’s not much more that needs to be said.” Focusing on Henrietta, Honoria said, “From what I’ve heard, James has already risked his life for you in leaping to your rescue at Marchmain House.”
And later, and then again; Henrietta smiled back. “And combined with all the rest, yes, it’s true—I really don’t need the words, either. I know he loves me.”
Before they could question her further, or she them, Helena called the four of them to join the conference that was taking place on the other side of the room, principally concerned with fixing the date for the pending wedding.