Page 80 of When He Was Wicked

Having her own words tossed at her brought laughter bubbling up from Henrietta’s throat. Inexplicably, being with him in the cottage was the most alive she had felt in weeks.

“Our sitting is over for today, my lord. We shall meet again in two days.”

“Good. Permit me to walk you home.”

“You may,” she said softly.

Leaving all her materials, she carefully locked up the cottage behind her and walked away with the earl. They strolled in silence for a few minutes before he cleared his throat. Henrietta quickly glanced up at him. Though he stared ahead, she sensed his intention to start some discourse.

“Your parents are Lord and Lady Marlow.”

“Yes.”

“Why do they wish for you to marry Courtland?”

Henrietta hesitated for a heartbeat. “My mother believes it is a respectable offer and if the viscount were twenty years younger it might be considered generous.”

“That does not tell me why she wants you to accept a man old enough to be your father. Do you wish to marry?”

“Yes,” she admitted with a wry smile. “However, after three failed seasons mama is in despair. I want to find happinesson my own so she believes she must intervene. I am far too fanciful.”

“Mothers are an interesting lot, aren’t they?” he said softly. “They ardently believe they act in your best interest, when in truth, their actions might push you toward great unhappiness.”

“Do you speak from experience, my lord?”

“I really do believe you should call me Simon.”

She smiled. “Very well…Simon.”

A roguish smile tipped the corner of his mouth. “As I said, Henry, my mother—”

“Must you call me by that moniker?”

“It might be safer to think of you as a gentleman.”

“Safer for whom?” she asked pertly.

He glanced down at her and Henrietta stumbled at that hot, hungry flash that darkened his eyes.Oh, God.Something inside her responded to it, and her belly went hot. She wanted to stay outside with him, speak with him longer, perhaps allow him to kiss her. Henrietta sucked in a harsh breath at her scandalous , errant thought. She looked away and flicked an imaginary speck of dirt from her dress.

“How did your mother almost cause your unhappiness?” she asked after a long, provoking silence.

“Not me, my sister, Ellen.”

Henrietta recalled Lady Ellen, a fair beauty who had captivated several gentlemen in theton. “I believe she is affianced to the Marquess of Bolton.”

“She has eloped to Scotland with the son of a vicar.”

“Goodness!” That was the last thing Henrietta had expected him to say. “I…I am astonished.”

“My mother is the one who wanted the alliance with the marquess and Ellen…she was in love and decided to start a scandal.”

“I will not betray your confidence,” Henrietta said softly.

“I would not have told you had I believed otherwise,” Simon said. “I am also anticipating that the news might explode in town any minute. However, it has been a few days and I have heard no words. I have a man looking for them.”

“He will find her, I am sure of it. And she will be safe too.”

Simon said nothing to that assurance, merely continued walking, his expression pensive.