Page 79 of My Hellion, My Heart
“Ah, yes! I have read that sea bathing is quite the restorative. The salt, they say, and the temperature of the water helps improve circulation.” He took an excited breath and continued, “Did you know, there are bathing machines they draw right into the water at the coast? A covered cart really, and the ladies can bathe in complete privacy. I have thought about a trip myself…”
Irina listened politely as he expounded on the benefits of sea bathing, but her mind had already turned a corner ahead and was thinking how Henry must have received a similar letter this morning. He would be glad to hear that his mother was making strides in her health.
It would also make him happy if he knew that Irina had called all of the nonsense off with Max. The betting book at White’s was too far out of her control to stop, but at least Henry would know that she would not be encouraging Max’s suit or accepting any offer. And if he had meant what she’d thought he’d meant yesterday, about making things right, she had to make things right, too.
She had to tell him everything.
Irina stood abruptly from her seat, causing Lord Dinsmore to drop his fork and knife and push back his chair.
“If Lady Dinsmore asks, please let her know I’ve taken Jane and gone out for a drive.”
Irina didn’t want to lie and say she and her maid would be shopping or in the park, but she also couldn’t part with the truth—that she was going to Leicester Square to once more throw herself at Henry’s feet. He would be furious, she knew, but the moment the idea of telling him about her decision regarding Max had cropped up, the restless humming in her stomach and chest and limbs had silenced.
She would tell him that she wouldn’t marry anyone she didn’t love.
And she still lovedhim.
Henry was the man she wanted, above all others. No, he wasn’t perfect, and he wasn’t the same man he’d been when she’d first fallen in love with him so many years ago. He had changed. He had become a darker version of that white knight she’d always envisioned him to be. But she still loved him. She always would.
Lord Dinsmore wished her a pleasant outing as she left the breakfast room and signaled a footman in the hallway to fetch Jane. The maid appeared in Irina’s room a handful of minutes later, breathless.
“We’re going out,” Irina said, to which Jane’s expression fell.
“Does my lady wish to see the death flower again?” she asked, likely remembering how Lady Lyon had been on her second visit the day before.
“I’d rather eat a slice of arsenic pie than smell that wretched parasitic flower again,” Irina declared, working a gasp of laughter from her maid. “No, we’re calling on Lord Langlevit.”
The gasp from Jane this time was one of scandal. “But, Your Highness, shouldn’t Lady Dinsmore accompany you for such a call?”
“Yes, she should,” Irina replied, eyeing her figure in the vanity mirror. She had not yet changed into a day dress, wearing instead a forest-green tailored riding habit. Nothing overly lovely, but she wouldn’t have been able to sit still another moment while Jane searched for a suitable gown.
“However, I am thoroughly tired of the rules I am supposed to play to,” she said more to herself than her maid. She picked up her reticule and gloves. “I have something important to say to the earl, and it must be said between the two of us, alone.” She glanced at Jane.
“Of course, Your Highness,” she said with a reverent nod of her head.
They left Bishop House with Beckett at the reins of the carriage, who seemed to take the roads at much too slow a pace. Irina was certain it would have felt slow even had the carriage sprouted wings and flown to Leicester Square. She just wanted to see Henry and tell him everything, get it out into the open. And if he chose to walk away from her…well, then she would go. She would pack her things and return to St. Petersburg as soon as possible. It would be too much torture to be so close to him and not have him the way her heart desired.
There could be no more encounters like the one the afternoon before, unfinished and unfulfilled with no promises or real honesty attached.
Beckett pulled around Leicester Square and came to stop outside Henry’s home. Once again, Irina peered up the stately facade in wonderment and hesitation.Don’t be a coward,she told herself.
She and Jane descended onto the curb and approached the front door. Henry’s butler, Stevens, answered it only moments after Irina’s first knock.
“Your Highness,” he said, immediately dipping into a bow and stepping aside. She entered the foyer, and this time, without the crush of guests, it felt cavernous.
He’s not here.She wasn’t certain how she knew it, but she did.
And then his butler spoke. “My apologies. His lordship is not at home at present.”
Just because she had sensed as much didn’t mean she wasn’t disappointed. This had not been part of her plan.
“Do you know when he will return?” she asked, not wanting to leave her card, and not wanting to stay and wait, either.
Oh, why couldn’t he be home?
“Not for some time, Your Highness. He has been called away to Hartstone.”
Irina frowned. “Whatever for?”
