Page 44 of Tempting Mr. Townsend
“Yes,” Helena said. “It's put us off our petits fours.”
“Whereas instead you've come down with a case of the mysterious and wildly attractive Mr. Townsend,” Caro said. “So stop torturing us and tell all.”
Distressed, Fenella regarded her two fellow dashing widows.
For days, she'd hardly slept, and when she had, she'd suffered dark and tormenting dreams where Henry became Anthony, and Anthony became Henry. Just this morning, she'd stirred before dawn to realize with horror that she couldn't picture Henry's face. Sobbing, she'd fumbled to light a candle, then grabbed his miniature that she kept beside her bed. She decided this couldn't go on. She wanted her peace back. However lonely. However dull. She'd begged Henry's forgiveness and decided to write to Anthony, refusing his proposal.
But now, hearing Anthony's name spoken spiked an invincible tide of longing. The thought of never seeing him again was unbearable.
She felt nauseous with indecision. No wonder Caro had remarked on her sickly appearance.
“Fen?” This time Helena's voice wasn't sly with knowledge, but edged with sincere concern. “Are you all right?”
“I…” she began, intending to lie her way out of this, no matter how ineptly. Then the worried affection in her friends' eyes defeated her shabby attempts at bravado. “No. No, I'm not all right.”
Then to her utter mortification, she burst into tears.
“Oh, Fen, I'm so sorry,” Caro wailed, rushing over to sit beside her and put her arm around her. “I'm a great blundering fool.It's none of my business. I shouldn't have asked. If that brute has hurt you, I'll set the dogs on him.”
“You don't have any dogs,” Fenella blubbered through the hands she'd placed over her streaming eyes. “And he's not a brute. In fact, he's…he's rather wonderful.”
“Is he?” Helena asked drily, approaching to pass her a handkerchief.
“Yes, yes, he is,” Fenella said, gratefully seizing the lacy square and blowing her nose. "Oh, this is just stupid. I don't know what's wrong with me.”
She raised her head in time to catch a meaningful glance between her friends.
“Don't you?” Helena asked.
“Tell us everything. You'll feel better if you do,” Caro said.
“I doubt it,v Fenella said, blowing her nose again.
“Try,” Helena said.
“You surely can't feel much worse,” Caro said. “And you know we're dying of curiosity.”
“Caro,” Helena said reprovingly.
Her lovely friend shrugged her slender shoulders. “Well, we'll feel better if she talks, even if Fen doesn't.”
Despite her wretchedness, Fenella gave a broken laugh. “You make my need for a little privacy sound positively selfish.”
“Keeping everything to yourself obviously doesn't make you happy,” Helena said.
Fenella twisted the damp handkerchief between her shaking hands. “I thought you were on my side.”
“As always, I'm on the side of scientific truth,” Helena said loftily.
Somehow that remark had Fenella pouring out the whole story, only faltering into silence when she and Anthony arrived at the Rainbow and Angel.
“Then he said…” That discomfiting blush rose again. “Well, you can see why I'm in a complete mess.”
“Not fair, Fen,” Caroline protested. “You can't stop there.”
Helena cast Caro a repressive look. “Leave the poor woman a scrap of dignity, you dreadful creature. We can imagine what happened.” Then spoiled her defense by asking, “So did you enjoy it?”
To her surprise, Fenella answered with complete honesty. “It was earth-shattering.”
