A Secret Desire

by Lane, Charlie

  Another crash, accompanied by a groan, vibrated the door. Then another crash shook the hallway, this time accompanied by the tinkle of broken glass, before the door to the room burst open, the Duchess of Valingford filling the frame.

  She looked as cool and calm as if she were attending an afternoon garden party, but her words were cut glass. “Shame on you. Not only have you ruined yourself, but the vase they shattered was priceless. Lady Stonefield will be distraught.”

  Part of Henrietta wanted to laugh. For the Duchess of Valingford, Henrietta’s reputation mattered less than a vase. Perhaps she should cry. She certainly should have escaped out the window when she’d had the chance.

  The duchess strode toward Henrietta, clasped her wrist in a grip more ironclad than Henrietta ever would have expected, and yanked her out of the room. Composed yet irritated, the duchess watched two brawling bears barrel down the hallway. “They won’t listen to me. And if they don’t stop, they’ll ruin the whole house and cause a scene.”

  She hated to agree with the woman, but she did have a point. Henrietta rushed toward the two men, locked in battle. “Tobias! Let him go right now!”

  Her brother shoved his palm in Grayson’s face. “Thank you for the help—ack!—sister, but I don’t need it. Eep!” Grayson barreled into her brother, and they sprawled to the floor.

  “No! Let Grayson go! This instant, Tobias.” She stomped her foot to punctuate her point.

  Pinned beneath Grayson’s heavier form, Tobias wheezed. “It’s him that’s got me, sis.”

  “Gah!” Henrietta marched after them. Leave it to Tobias to argue when being beaten by a mad bear of a man. If they wouldn’t stop this insanity, she’d make them.

  Grayson hauled Tobias to his feet. “Get away, Hen,” he growled.

  “What in heaven’s name is going on?” she demanded, shoving herself between the two seething men.

  Grayson threw Tobias away from him and strode down the hall then back up it, rubbing his fists. “Tell her what you did.”

  “Tobias, what did you do?” Henrietta demanded.

  He shrugged a shoulder, wincing with pain. “I had a conversation with the gracious duchess.”

  Henrietta’s stomach soured. “You didn’t.” She glanced between the duchess and her brother. His face flushed as pink as his waistcoat, and not all his coloring stemmed from the thrashing he’d suffered. That was a guilty pink if she’d ever seen it. The next bolt of pink just such a shade that her father produced, she’d insist be named after him. All the ladies next season would have dresses in Tobias’s Guilt.

  He straightened his cravat and smoothed his hair into place.

  Henrietta had no doubt; Tobias had alerted the Duchess of Valingford. “Why?”

  “I didn’t need him to tell me anything,” the duchess said. “I already had confirmation.” She curled a smug lip and advanced on the trio at a determined clip. “You.” Her gaze jerked to Tobias. “You will leave. I thank you for your information, but you are no longer needed. Go.” She narrowed her eyes at his clashing clothes. “Go straighten yourself up. And you.” Her gaze snapped in Grayson’s direction. “You, too, must tidy yourself. You’ve spent precious little time with your fiancée in the past few days. She’s downstairs in the music room, expecting you.”

  Grayson lifted his arms away from his side then dropped them in helpless frustration. “If you’ll remember, my lady, your daughter is not my fiancée and never has been. I will not propose. I told you both so this morning.”

  The duchess pulled herself up at tall as she could manage, which wasn’t much. “And I do not accept it. You don’t have to propose, but you will marry her.”

  “I’m engaged to another.” Grayson took a step toward Henrietta, knitting his strong fingers with her own.

  “You’re engaged to my daughter, Lord Rigsby,” the duchess hissed. “And you’ll marry her or your dear Miss Blake will know the consequences.”

  Henrietta had been waiting for it. A lady of such consequence as the Duchess of Valingford did not know defeat. She would have what she wanted any way she could get it.

  The duchess caught and held Henrietta’s gaze. “You’re no one, but you want to be. I’ve seen your father’s shop. Funny thing he’s never there. You always are, though.”

  She hinted she knew Henrietta’s secret. Did everyone know, then? Some secret keeper she’d turned out to be. Anyone with half a brain could divine Henrietta’s real relationship to Blake’s Dress Shop.

  “I’ve eyes everywhere, and I know everything, and I know once it gets around that you’ve bedded Lord Rigsby, you’ll not only be ruined, your shop will be, as well. The doors will be shut before your grandparents can send you back to Manchester where you belong.” She raised her nose in the air and turned her back on them.

  Numbness swept through Henrietta’s limbs.

  The duchess never looked back, but her words rang clear in the hallway, disgust dripping from every syllable. “I will never buy your father’s fabric, but I won’t say a word of what I discovered here today if you gather your things and leave this house immediately. You will never show your face in the ton again. If you do this, no one will know your shame and your business will be safe. If you persist in marrying Lord Rigsby, you’ll be ruined. As well, your entire family will be ruined. Do you truly wish that?”

  Before she could say a word or even nod her assent, Grayson darted forward, trotting after the duchess’s heels.

  “Grayson?” Henrietta called after him.

  He cast a look over his shoulder, hesitating only a moment. “I’ll fix it, Hen. I promise.” Then he disappeared, leaving Henrietta alone in the hallway, clutching a small, cold necklace to her stuttering heart.

  He’d fix it? How like Grayson to think he could. He’d been trying to fix things, save people, the first time she’d met him at the duel. Then he’d tried to fix everything for his father after his brother’s death. And then in the last twenty-four hours, he’d relentlessly chased the truth between them until he’d fixed the year-old misunderstanding, too.

  He’d fix it? How could he? If she married Grayson, the Duchess of Valingford would ruin them all, not only Henrietta, but her entire family. Grayson wouldn’t mind, at first. But he’d be a duke one day and would need a wife free of scandal to fix the doubtless numerous things he’d wish to make better.

  If she walked away from Grayson, though … she closed her eyes, squeezing the tears gathering sharply in the corners of her eyes. If she walked away from Grayson, she’d never love again.

  Her heart or her reputation, her family’s reputation? An impossible choice, but one she would have to make because, bold and wonderful as he was, Grayson would never be able to fix this.

  Chapter 18

  Every time she’d ever needed her grandmother, Henrietta had found her in the corner of a library or conservatory or garden or any other quiet place, book in hand, schedule cleared, ready to lend a helping hand. But now, when she needed her most, Grandmama could not be found. None of her usual haunts revealed a tiny, book-toting woman quietly avoiding the crowd. A shame, that, since Henrietta needed to tell her grandmother news the woman would dearly love to hear—they were leaving.

  In fact, they had to leave now or suffer the Duchess of Valingford’s wrath.

  Henrietta abandoned her search and ran to her room. She called for her maid. “Annette, please tell John Coachman to bring the coach round. We’ll be leaving as soon as possible.” She wrote a short note to her grandmother as Annette packed.

  Dear Grandmama,

  I must leave. I’m taking the carriage and Annette but will send the former back to you so you can do as you please. I’m so sorry I did not wait for you or tell you in person, but so much depends on leaving as quickly as possible.

  Love, Hen

  When Annette returned with news that John was readying the coach, she handed her the note. “Can you deliver this to Lady Stonefield? Tell her to please give it to my grandmother when she surfaces
from whatever corner she’s hiding in.”

  “Yes, miss.”

  “As quickly as possible, Annette, please,” Henrietta said. “We must be gone.”

  When Annette returned, she shrieked at the mess in the room. “Your gowns, miss! You can’t shove them in the trunk!”

  “There’s no helping it.” Henrietta pushed harder. How had her maid fit so many dresses into such a small trunk?

  Annette rushed forward and grabbed the dress from Henrietta’s grip. She smoothed out the wrinkles and gave it a good shake. “What shall you wear, miss?” The maid pulled another traveling dress from the trunk, shook it, and placed both dresses gently across the bed.

  Henrietta looked down at her crumpled gown, the one she’d thrown to the ground as she’d let Grayson undress her. “Mercy.” She must change. Not only because of the wrinkles, but because it reminded her of him, and she needed to forget him as soon as she could. Or suffer greatly. “Oh, it doesn’t matter! It doesn’t matter at all. We must be gone, and quickly!”

  Annette gasped. “But miss, what you wear always matters! You say—”

  “Not today. Not right now.” Henrietta grabbed a dress and shoved it toward Annette. “This one. Quick!” She dressed in a trice. The material may have swished in a delightful way at her feet. The color may have brought out her eyes, as she liked, but Henrietta noticed not. “We’ll leave my trunk,” she said. “It can be delivered to London later.”

  “But, miss!”

  Henrietta bolted from the room. She couldn’t stay another moment. If the duchess thought she dawdled, there would be consequences. “Where’s the Duchess of Valingford?” she asked the first servant she saw.

  “Outside, I believe. She had her carriage brought round.”

  Odd. “Where is Lord Rigsby?” Another personage she dearly wished to avoid. He would reject her plan and charm her with soft words and softer kisses. She’d relent, and then she’d lose everything but him.

  Her father’s business, her family, her own reputation—all ruined in the wake of the scandal.

  The servant blinked, shifting from foot to foot. “Outside with her grace and the Lady Willow.”

  The two people she least wanted to see were exactly where she headed. But it must be done. She’d need to have nerves of steel the rest of her life if she were to be in the same room, the same city as Grayson and not be his wife. She’d start practicing now.

  Henrietta pulled back the heavy curtain hiding a window in the entryway and peeked out. A huge, expensively appointed coach sat out front. Three people stood before it—the duchess, her daughter, and Grayson. He had changed clothes, and she tried not to notice how handsome he looked, bending over the two women, his golden hair curling over his cravat. He’d found time to dress appropriately, then. Good. He certainly didn’t look like a man who would ruin a woman in the middle of the day. Surely no one would believe the duchess.

  But they would. Of course, they would, no matter how immaculately he dressed or how perfectly Henrietta behaved. Her father’s life in trade would be enough reason for the ton to believe the duchess’s every word.

  Her hand trembled, and she let the curtain drop, blocking her view. She’d stay here a moment or two, waiting for Grandmama, and marshal her courage.

  “Henrietta?” Ada swept down the staircase into the entry hall, tying bonnet strings beneath her chin.

  At the sight of her friend’s face, tears rushed to Henrietta’s eyes.

  “What’s the matter?” Ada gasped, folding Henrietta in a hug.

  Henrietta shook her head and pulled away. “It’s too much to explain.” She hiccupped and wiped her eyes. “At least right now. But I’m so glad you’re here.” She tightened her arms around her friend and managed a shaky smile. “I’m leaving.” She peeked out the window once more. John drove the coach into the driveway behind the Duke and Duchess’s carriage.

  “Right now?”

  Henrietta nodded.

  “But why?”

  Henrietta’s jaw trembled.

  “All right, all right. You’ll explain later.” She chucked Henrietta under the chin. “But if you must leave, you’d best put on a brave face. The old dragon is outside as well as your old fiancé. And everyone else soon will be as well. We’re all leaving for a ramble to a folly on the grounds. This hall is about to be full to the brim.”

  Henrietta’s knees forgot how to work. Thankfully, Ada’s strong, supporting arms did not. Henrietta allowed her friend to support her weight. “Will you help me? I need you by my side. Please?”

  “Of course!” She turned Henrietta toward the door. “It’s only a few steps and a few awful people. You’ve encountered both before.”

  Henrietta nodded, holding firm on Ada’s arm. “I’m ready.” And she was. She found the door she’d pulled tight last year over every emotion she’d felt for Grayson. It had been thrown wide open. She grasped the handle and tugged, shutting out the light, protecting herself.

  A footman strode forward and opened the door, and Henrietta and Ada strode into the daylight, heads held high.

  “Oh!” Henrietta gasped, starting down the steps, “How is Pansy?” An excellent question to distract her from the man below.

  Ada chuckled. “Quite fine. Turns out, she was never in as much danger as I thought. She’d immediately ended up under the boat with a ledge to hang on to and air to breath. That’s how Lord Rig—” She halted her words but continued marching down the stairs.

  “It’s all right, Ada. You can say his name.” Henrietta darted a glance at the man. He stood completely rigid, and she could only hear the low grumble of his voice. He did not yell, but she recognized his tone—determined.

  The doors above them creaked open once more, and Henrietta and Ada swung around to see a large group of guests in bonnets and pelisses and riding jackets exit the house.

  “Yoo-hoo!” Lady Pendleson raised an arm in greeting, the other arm wound firmly through the arm of Henrietta’s grandmother. “Are you two set for the outing as well? I’ve convinced your grandmother to come along, you see.”

  Grandmama’s eyes widened in relief as her gaze lighted on Henrietta. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here, my dear.”

  “I’m afraid I won’t be for long, Grandmama.” Henrietta’s cheeks reddened. Why did she feel so guilty, as if she’d been caught in the middle of a sordid act? “I’m leaving right now. I couldn’t find you, so I left a note.”

  Grandmama’s face screwed up in confusion. “Leaving? But we’re to stay until the end of the next week.”

  “And I insist you do!” Lady Pendleson boomed.

  “I can’t.” Henrietta hoped the two words were enough to convince her grandmother.

  “Oh, well.” Grandmama yanked her arm free from Lady Pendleson’s grasp. “Off we go, my dear!” She wrapped her arm through Henrietta’s arm, and braced on either side by women who loved her, Henrietta felt brave enough to do what must be done.

  “I so enjoyed visiting with you, Lady Pendleson,” Henrietta said. “Do visit the shop as soon as you’re in town.”

  Lady Pendleson narrowed her eyes and placed her fists on her hips. “I will. Don’t you worry, Miss Blake.”

  Henrietta turned the trio toward the waiting carriage. Lady Pendleson’s narrowed gaze foreboded trouble. The woman vibrated with suspicion. She’d want to know more. “Quick, Grandmama. We must be off.”

  Grandmama sighed. “A quiet ride back to London. Lovely.” She practically jumped into the carriage when they reached it.

  Henrietta turned to Ada, ignoring Grayson’s scowl from not more than ten feet away. He’d seen them, and her waiting carriage and traveling dress did not help his scowling mood. “I feel scowly, too,” she mumbled, “But I’m not going to show it.”

  “I don’t think ‘scowly’ is a word.” Ada lifted an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m assuming no explanation is forthcoming.”

  “I’ll write to you and explain everything. I promise.”


  Ada wrapped Henrietta in a hug. Nothing felt better than the arms of a friend who loved you and would do as you asked without question. The tears Henrietta had been holding back threatened once more.

  But the crunch of boots on gravel filled Henrietta with alarm, and she pulled out of the embrace.

  Grayson strode toward them.

  Henrietta stepped up into the carriage. “I must go. I’ll write! I promise,” she told Ada.

  “Henrietta!” Grayson’s voice floated to her as she closed the carriage door and rapped the roof. “Henrietta!” he cried. It sounded as if he might be running after the carriage, but she couldn’t bring herself to look out the window. She didn’t want to know if he ran after her. What she did was best for everyone, even him in the end. He’d realize that one day.

  “Now, my dear.” Grandmama cleared her throat and settled into the squabs. “I’m eternally grateful for the unexpected escape from that dreadful house party, but I’m afraid I must know why a sole tear rolls down your cheek.”

  Henrietta reached up and dashed the offending tear away. She had so far pressed her emotions back, but no more. A wall broke inside of her, and every tear she’d pent up in the last week burst out on a gasp.

  “Oh my,” said Grandmama. “A flood.”

  Chapter 19

  The carriage carried Henrietta farther away from him every second, but he couldn’t run after her. Not yet. The duchess still seemed to think he had no choices, but he’d ensure she knew the truth. He would no longer allow others to tell him what to do and who to be.

  And then there was the traitor Tobias Blake. Grayson wanted to finish what they’d started earlier. Then, when Tobias lay beaten and bloodied under his boot, he’d announce his imminent marriage into the family and leave him shocked and helpless and alone. Much like Tobias had left Grayson last year.

  He turned from the carriage as it disappeared down the lane. The duchess radiated rage beside her daughter who looked, as she always did, entirely calm. He took a deep breath before returning to the conversation he’d been having before he’d seen Henrietta enter the carriage and leave without a single word. Anger simmered up again. What the hell was she thinking?