Page 18 of Loving a Dowager
“You think I’ve accomplished such a feat?”
“Your salver is full with invitations. You are never in want of company at any event I’ve seen you attend.”
Henrietta trusted Walter, but she couldn’t disclose the existence of PORFs. Instead, she opted for a more indirect explanation. “That is due to the kindness and generosity extended to me by my dear niece-in-law. The Archbrokes have always maintained a level of unparalleled connections and influence.”
Walter’s lips twisted into a smile that sparked the passion-filled sensations she’d suppressed. “Henrietta, your dear George was never one to strictly adhere to the rules. I’m fully aware your connection to the Archbroke family dates back further than your niece’s recent marriage into the family.”
She blinked twice and studied Walter’s features. He wasn’t lying. Why would George have shared with Walter, a gentleman with no ties to the crown, the Hadfields’ generations-old secret? Henrietta’s confusion was only further muddled at the sight of Walter’s lips curled into a flirtatious grin and the alluring appearance of fine lines at the corners of his smiling eyes.
Walter squeezed her hand. “I see you don’t believe how that could be.”
She leaned forward, never letting her gaze drop from his. “And I’m still owed an explanation as to exactly how your friendship with George came about.”
Bridging the gap between them until they were inches apart, Walter replied, “And I agreed to divulge all my secrets once my dear nephew is happily engaged, did I not?”
Her heart was racing. This very mature, very controlled version of Walter had her on edge. “Aye, that was the arrangement. However…”
Walter rested a warm hand upon her knee, halting her speech. “Henrietta, I shall share everything with you as promised…at a later date. For now, we must combat the scandal that is about to ensue in order for Lady Bertha to find a suitable husband.”
“A husband such as yourself?” She couldn’t resist the opening.
Walter pulled his hand away. “No. Whatever gave you the idea I shared a fondness for Lady Bertha?”
“Mayhap the lady has an interest in you.” Argh. She had promised Bertha to be subtle.
“Then it is certainly imperative we find her a suitable match.”
“Why are you so eager to have Bertha wed?”
“Because I believe you were correct that Miss White is perfect for your nephew, and the chit is extremely loyal to her own detriment. She won’t wed until Lady Bertha is happily settled.”
“How do you know of such things?”
“Servants talk, and I have my own network to provide me information and gossip.”
It wasn’t her imagination; Walter had placed an emphasis on network. She’d have to extract the man’s secrets sooner rather than later.
“Shall I make arrangements for us all to dine this eve?” Henrietta stood and walked over to the pull.
Walter rose and before she could summon Morris, he was mere inches away. “It is my understanding Landon and his dear wife make a habit of dining in private of late. I would not like to disrupt your routine.”
Goodness, the man was well informed.
He arched a brow at her. “Perhaps we could dine—just the two of us.”
She no longer detested the idea of eating alone, often opting to dine in her chambers. But recently the lack of company frequently resulted in her pecking at her food and discarding it half eaten. Not that she didn’t have a stone or two to spare. “Are you suggesting I allow you to sneak into my parlor, as you did as a boy to enjoy a plate of sweets?”
“I am. I am indeed.” His eyes glimmered with desire.
With a smile, Henrietta answered, “Very well. I shall see you later this eve.”
Walter bowed and disappeared, leaving Henrietta alone with her mind awhirl. What was the man’s favored sweet dish? With her forefinger pressed against her lips, she smiled—bread and butter pudding! She would simply request Cook to add a plate of the treat to her tray this eve. As she neared the kitchens, she was struck with the idea to have a bowl of syllabub also added. Her cheeks burned red as she made the request that Cook didn’t even bat an eye at. He simply shooed her from the blazing hot room, and Henrietta practically skipped back to her rooms pondering over the all the delicious and decadent ideas of how to share the whipped-cream dessert with Walter.
Chapter Ten
Ouch!The toe of Walter’s boot hit the stone wall. His depth perception was askew in the darkness. Barely enough moonlight to see his own nose. Not as nimble as he once was, instead of hopping the garden wall, he swung one leg over and then the next. Seated, he searched his surroundings to gain his bearings before making the terrifying attempt of entering the wing assigned to Henrietta. He had spent the afternoon at Neale & Sons, seated at his desk and haunted by the wispy crackle of George’s voice.She deserves happiness, Walter; promise you won’t fail as I have in leaving her.Walter had pondered for years as to why George had been taken from this earth at a young age. More often than not, those moments coincided with his morose thoughts of how his own family members had departed before their time. And after all these years, Walter still could not shake the dead man’s words from his conscience. Haunted by a gnawing obligation to fulfill his promise, Walter had remained close by, always at the ready to assist but hidden in the shadows. Now that he had been pushed out of the dark, he was challenged with deciding how to go on. How was he to fulfill his promise and see to Henrietta’s happiness—and perhaps his own? Mayhap dining in private with the woman was the first step. Although he wasn’t certain he’d leave with his sanity intact. Thirty minutes alone with her had proven to be a supreme challenge of his will power. He had been inches away from kissing her soft, inviting lips. He was still undecided as to whether he was a fool for not pursuing a life-long fantasy or a saint for exercising such self-control. An evening alone with Henrietta would prove which.
Pushing off the wall, Walter crept to the window illuminated with candlelight. He pressed his ear to the glass plane. The second half of George’s demand—that Walter promise to never leave Henrietta—froze his movements. If he dared to kiss Henrietta this eve, leaving her might well be an impossibility. Loving her from afar had been torture. But to declare his affection for her to all and sundry petrified him.
