Page 108 of Love ad Lib
Henry led Libby through the Manor at breakneck speed. She had to jog to keep up with his stride, struggling to breathe against the tight bodice of the dress. She was too flustered to ask where they were going.
He’d nearly kissed her.
Libby was sure she’d died and gone to heaven dancing in Henry’s arms. But then the music stopped and so did her heart. His eyes had darkened and he’d brought his lips towards hers.
He’d nearlykissedher.
Had she imagined it? Was it wishful thinking on her part?
Her feet pattered along the corridor towards his bedroom. Henry flung open the door, led her inside and dropped her hand, clutching the sides of his head as if trying to stop it splitting in half.
Libby closed the door behind them and propped a chair against it to prevent it re–opening.
Henry paced. Was he angry? Embarrassed? Frustrated? Whatever he was feeling, it didn’t look good.
Perching on the end of the bed, she traced the embroidered flowers on her dress.
His breathing was harsh, like he was trying to hold back a tsunami of emotion, his coat tails whipping around him with every abrupt turn.
‘Henry—’
‘I cannot bear it any longer.’
He stopped on the other side of the room, his hands clenched into fists.
‘I cannot suppress my feelings any longer even though they are abhorrent.’
What?
He resumed pacing, addressing the carpet beneath his boots. ‘From the moment we first met, Libby, I admired you. And this admiration has only grown despite my struggles against it.’ He rubbed his head as if to scrub away his feelings. ‘My passion for you has overcome all rational objections.’ He stopped and lowered his head. ‘In declaring myself, I’m aware that I’m going against my conscience, my word and my own better judgement.’ He paused. ‘And the difference between our families is the most mortifying part.’
Her jaw was quivering. Her family and background were mortifying to him? Having any sort of feelings for her wasabhorrent?? At least Giles left her family out of his criticisms.
‘Henry?’
He glanced up, his expression desperate. ‘Yes?’
‘Did you mean to channel Mr Darcy so completely just now?’
‘Er, what? No?’
‘You can’t have read the book since I only gave it to you yesterday, so have you watched the TV series? A film?’
He looked utterly flummoxed. ‘No. Why?’
‘Because I don’t think you could have been any more appropriately offensive considering how you are dressed right now.’
He gazed at his outfit. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Clearly.’
He started towards her. ‘Libby—’
‘Stop,’ she said, raising her hand.
He did.
She stood, lifting her chin, fighting the tears trying to come to the surface. Henry Foxbrooke had deceived her. She’d believed wholeheartedly that he was a good and decent man. That he liked her. But his true feelings…
