“Are you questioning my judgment, Marcus?” She asked carefully, her voice low. It was her way of saying the person she was talking to had crossed the line. “You’ve never done that before. Why are you starting now?”
“Arthur Myrtle has a habit of leading women on and then casting them away when he’s finished with them.” Marcus reached out and took her hand. “I don’t want to see that happen to you.”
Henriette bristled. Marcus had no right to tell her what she could and couldn’t do. The only person right now who could tell her that was her father and even that would be open to discussion. It felt insulting that Marcus, a long-time friend, would question her at all.
“I’m quite reconciled to that.” Henriette pulled her hand away. “I can take care of myself.”
Now she was upset. She had started her day in a good mood and had busied herself with gardening, a task she loved. Now Marcus had come by and trampled over everything. Henriette turned away and walked towards the house.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I want to be left alone now.”
“Henriette…”
She could hear Marcus calling after her, but Henriette slammed into the house, kicking the door shut behind her. She knew what Marcus was trying to do; he wanted to eliminate the competition. What he had not counted on was that Henriette wasn’t a pawn to be played with.
She waited in the house, keeping away from the windows until Marcus left. He had stayed to speak to her parents, and her mother had even invited him inside for tea. Marcus had refused, making his excuses and heading off. From the look on her father’s face when he knowingly looked at Henriette as she stood at the window, he knew exactly why he was leaving.
Henriette didn’t want to dally and discuss with her father what had just happened; she was still simmering in annoyance from Marcus’ attempt to defame Arthur’s name. Henriette wouldn’t stand for anyone saying a disparaging word against him.
As she slipped out the back door and made her way into the woods, setting off along a path she knew so well, Henriette wondered what had come over her. Before Arthur’s accident, Henriette was quite happy to avoid him and have no interaction with him whatsoever. Now she was defending him and willingly seeking out his company. It was a most curious turnaround.
Thinking it through, she realized now it had to have something to do with Arthur’s confession about his family. Henriette’s heart had ached for him when he told her about the abuse and how everyone in the family, with the exception of his uncle, saw him as the target for that mistreatment. Hidden underneath his bitterness, Arthur had a wholesome, gentle countenance that was very appealing. He was very smart and quick-witted. It was coming out slowly in small doses, but it was clear Arthur was learning to restrain the unpleasant aspects of his person, something that had been ingrained into him from an early age.
Henriette felt sorry for him. To grow up knowing a family didn’t love you and had isolated you from the world had to be one of the most awful things she could think of. She didn’t know how she would have coped if her parents had been cruel to her; she certainly wouldn’t have been able to adapt to the situation. If anything, Henriette had a feeling she would have gone mad.
The more she was in Arthur’s company, the more she saw things through his eyes. “Henriette!”
Henriette turned. Arthur was walking down the hill towards her, swinging a cane in his hand. He hurried down the hill to join her, touching his hat when he reached her.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning.” Why did her heart beat quicken? “You don’t look any worse for wear for that party.”
Arthur grimaced.
“I kept away from the alcohol. I talked to your father in the library for a couple of hours.” Arthur grinned. “He’s an interesting man.”
Henriette laughed.
“He’s been called worse than that.”
Shortly after dinner finished, Mary had begun to get stomach pains. She had expressed a desire to stay, but it got severe enough that she decided to leave. Henriette urged her father to stay longer while she went home with her mother.
“Do you mind if I walk with you?”
Henriette remembered what Marcus had just told her. Arthur was meant to be discredited and avoided. But she couldn’t see an unpleasant man. She saw a good man mired in an unfortunate situation. The cruel side of him was slowly getting displaced. It was taking time, but it was happening and already Henriette approved of what she saw.
What was going on with her? She wasn’t supposed to like this man, not after their initial confrontations. But her emotions seemed to have a mind of their own and Henriette felt like she was a complete mess inside.
So, pushing aside Marcus’ concerns, she smiled up at him.
“I don’t mind at all.”
Arthur smiled, the gesture making Henriette’s heart miss a beat, and held out his arm. Henriette tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and stepped a little closer to him. His arm was warm. The body heat coming off him was alluring. It enveloped Henriette, and she almost leaned into him.
They started walking down the path, not speaking at first. Henriette didn’t mind. She liked the silence and being quiet around Arthur didn’t feel uncomfortable at all. It was one of the few times she didn’t feel the need to start a conversation to fill the void. Arthur simply made her relax in a way no one else had ever done.
What on earth was happening to her?
Chapter 8
The Beginnings of
a Friendship
“My sincerest apologies for the dreadful behavior of my parents.” Arthur finally spoke as they reached the edge of the woods and began to skirt the edge. “I’m appalled at the way they treat you and everyone else, especially my sister. She doesn’t seem to understand she’s fortunate to have what she has.”
Henriette sighed and squeezed his arm in comfort.
“You don’t need to apologize for them. You’re not responsible for their actions.”
“In a sense, I am.” Arthur looked troubled. He swiped his cane across the top of a bush, a few leaves falling to the ground. “I’m due to become an earl and my uncle says it will help immensely if they change their ways. Then perhaps my reputation won’t be as damaged as it has been.”
“If you don’t like it why did you go along that same path?”
For a moment Henriette thought Arthur wasn’t going to answer. He stopped, stepping away, so her hand fell away. Arthur sat on a log and laid his cane across his lap. He looked like he was trying to figure out where to start without it sounding like an excuse.
“When it’s all you’ve known, it’s easier to join in than be on the outside.” He said finally. “I’m just fortunate there were a few people in my life who told me it was unacceptable to act in that fashion. Unfortunately, that counsel was interrupted to some extent once I reached adulthood. It’s difficult to develop a respectable reputation when you come from a family with a multitude of character flaws.”
Henriette knew he was trying to justify his actions, but it still felt like an excuse. She put her hands on her hips as she gave him a look that said she was skeptical.
“Since when have children moulded to all of their parents’ ideals? I’d like to think I’m known as my own person, not as an extension of my parents, simply because I am who I am. If you don’t want to be associated with their reputation, whatever it may be, you can always create your own. Don’t get discouraged because you’re fearful that you can’t start over. Don’t allow them to tarnish you with the same brush.”
She could see Arthur was listening in silence, turning his cane over slowly in his hands. Henriette had no idea how it felt to be completely on your own, floundering without help but practically begging for guidance. It was hard to imagine herself in Arthur shoes in that aspect, but she knew if he had any chance of becoming a man in his own right he would have to disassociate himself from the influence of his parents.
And Henriette suddenly realized she wan
ted him to do it. She wanted him to walk away and never look back with his head held high.
“Why are you always so full of wise words?” Arthur looked up, his eyes riveting her to the spot. “And where were you when I needed them? I could have done with someone like you a while ago. I could do with you right now, come to that.”
Henriette swallowed. Those words had sent her heart into a flurry. He wanted her for her wise words? It was as if he had stood up and kissed her before walking away as if nothing had ever happened. She covered up her stunned amazement and shrugged, giving him a smile.
“I’m here now, aren’t I?”
Arthur smiled and nodded.
“You certainly are.”
“Henriette.”
Henriette looked round. She was sitting at her dressing table in her nightgown, preparing herself for bed. Her mother stood in the doorway to her room, already dressed for bed and holding a candle holder; the light from her little candle flickering across her face. From what Henriette could see, her mother looked worried.
“Mother?” Henriette put her hairbrush down. “Why are distressed?”
“Can I speak with you?”
“Of course. What is the matter?”
Mary bit her lip. Then she entered the bedroom and sat, placing the candle holder by Henriette’s own, the combined light making the illumination a little brighter. She fidgeted her fingers in her lap, playing with the edge of the shawl around her shoulders. Henriette was starting to worry; it wasn’t often she saw her normally placid, somewhere cheery mother looking like this.
“Mother?”
Mary glanced up at her. She looked unsure where to begin.
“I’m getting concerned, Henriette.” She blurted out. “I’m getting concerned about you.”
“About me? Why? And about what?”
“I’m worried about your association with Arthur Myrtle. You two seem to be getting…close.”
Henriette started. Her mother was worried about a friendship she had with Arthur. It had been nearly two weeks since she bestowed those wise words on Arthur and they had started walking together on a daily basis. It was nothing to do with being romantic, more merely a friendship that was blossoming. Arthur was getting better, the old him melting away and replaced with someone Henriette was growing fond of. More smiles were coming from him, and Henriette looked forward to seeing him each time.
They did spend a lot of time together, but Henriette didn’t think they would be considered to be close.
“Close? With Arthur?” Henriette shook her head. “I believe that you're mistaken, Mother. I’ve never gotten close with Arthur.”
“That’s not what I was told.”
“Then you were misinformed.” Henriette heaved a heavy sigh. “Who told you I was close?”
“Marcus saw Mr. Myrtle carrying you down the path just on the outskirts of the woods earlier today. He said he took you into the house and came out a while later.”
Henriette couldn’t believe it. Ever since she had told Marcus to mind his own affairs he had taken to following her. She couldn’t begin to count how many times she and Arthur came across Marcus, who pretended he was out for a walk. Henriette knew otherwise and was aware of him following them at a distance.
“Why was Mr. Myrtle carrying you, Henriette?” Mary persisted.
Henriette sighed.
“I sprained my ankle, remember?” She pointed at her leg, pulling back her nightdress to show the bandages the doctor had put tightly around her foot. “We were walking with his horse earlier today. His horse took fright when a squirrel darted out in front of us. It jumped, and I fell when I scrambled out the way. Arthur took responsibility and carried me back home.”
It had been a pleasant walk until then. Arthur had been distraught that his horse had been the cause of her injury. He had fussed over her to the point Henriette was ready to hit him. But he didn’t complain when Henriette asked to go home. He simply picked her up and carried her over a mile back to her home, going straight up the stairs and settling her on the bed. Then he had hurried out and fetched the doctor, who had tightly wound a bandage around her ankle.
Henriette had felt sorry for Arthur seeing him hovering over her and fretting over her state. She eventually had sent him home, telling him not to worry, and that she would manage. That had been several hours ago, and Henriette was missing him. That realization was startling in itself; she had had no idea they had got to that stage where she would miss him when he left.
But she couldn’t say this to her mother. It was clear Mary was distressed, and Henriette wasn’t about to antagonize her further. However, she was angry that Marcus had intervened again and spoken to Mary with his concerns. She would have words with her former friend for upsetting her mother over nothing.
“Why are you so worried about me being in Arthur’s presence?” She queried. “I thought you approved of him.”
“I did. I do like him.” Mary blushed. “It’s just now I’ve heard about his reputation I’m concerned for you.”
Henriette grimaced.
“Marcus is blinded by prejudice and is only saying those things because he doesn’t want someone else striving for my affections. The only problem is believing rumors when Arthur is merely an innocent victim of his parents’ design. They had sullied his reputation before he got a chance and he didn’t see the point of attempting to change people’s minds. It was his fault for that negligence that but how is he supposed to display his true character now if people pre-judge him?”
Mary’s blush got deeper. It was clear she had been doing just that. Marcus was going to get a piece of her mind the next time Henriette saw him.
“But what were you doing with him?” Mary asked. “You told me a while ago you didn’t want to be in his presence anymore because he was cruel and disrespectful.”
“He’s not like that anymore, Mother, if he ever truly was.” Henriette sighed. “We simply talk while we go for a walk. He’s never tried anything with me; he’s just content he’s got someone to talk to and build his confidence enough to stand up to his family and break away from them.” She laid a hand over one of her mothers. “There’s no cause for concern, Mother. I have no romantic interest what so ever in Arthur Myrtle.”
It was another few minutes before Mary left, satisfied that her daughter’s virtue was safe. But Henriette didn’t make a move to go to bed. She sat staring at her reflection, wondering why she had just lied to her mother when she said she had no interest in Arthur Myrtle. That’s not how she felt.
When had she started showing an interest in him? Henriette didn’t know, but she was sure things were progressing between them in a way that would have been considered inappropriate if they went any further.
Henriette swallowed, aware of where her thoughts were going. If she was starting to have feelings for Arthur and they were progressing to a sort of relationship that was more than platonic, she needed to keep her distance. Arthur wasn’t one to hide his emotions and Henriette had been aware of him staring at her with open admiration in his eyes. Soon it would come to a point where they couldn’t spend time alone together.
If Henriette had been told she would be falling in love with Arthur Myrtle several weeks back, she would have laughed hysterically. Now she just felt a warm tingle throughout her body.
And she had no idea what to do about it.
Chapter 9
Preventing His
Departure
“May I join you?”
Henriette looked up. Then she sat up suddenly. Arthur was standing near the corner of the house, his hat and cane in his hands with a worried look on his face.
It had been a week since Henriette identified her feelings towards him and had started purposefully avoiding him. She didn’t want to be alone with him and inadvertently say something she would later regret. They spoke about everything and Henriette found she couldn’t lie to him. If he discovered she had fallen in love with him, Arthur would undoubtedly laugh and break her heart
by rejecting her. They were completely incompatible when it came to class. Their friendship put to one side, if it had been a social situation anywhere else, they wouldn’t have crossed paths, much less have a conversation.
It would be much more appropriate if she kept her distance from now on. Henriette could recover from most set backs but having her heart broken wouldn’t be one of them. It was much more prudent to eliminate contact now and become more formal. Arthur would be upset, but he would understand, especially if he didn’t reciprocate but wanted to remain respectful towards her. Respect for others was one of his strongest qualities now, and Henriette was proud of him for that.
She swallowed and lowered her book.
“Of course you can. My apologies but my parents aren’t currently present.”
“I realize that.” Arthur approached her. He had his gloves in his hand, and he was tugging at one of the fingers. “I actually came to speak to you.”
“Me?”
Had he suspected something? If he did, it was improper to come and confront her. Henriette didn’t want to discuss her reasons but knew Arthur would persist until he knew all the facts.
Arthur sighed and took a seat in the chair beside her. The mid-afternoon sun had been shining down on the lawn chairs on Henriette’s garden, causing them to be warm to the touch. He sat on the edge, gloves still in hand, as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.
“I was thinking about what you said recently about reputation and how I let my family influence how I wanted to be seen, which wasn’t in a very good light at all. I thought about the people who were good role models for me and how I could enhance my status.”
“Are you asking me to help you with that? Because you’re doing a marvelous job on your own right now.”
That was true enough. Arthur had worked tirelessly on building new and better relationships in the village, and it was evidently effective. People weren’t turning away from him, and they were willing to engage him in conversation. The only person who still gave him a wide berth was Marcus, much to Henriette’s chagrin. She decided that if Marcus was going to be obstinate about Arthur’s expanding relationships with the village folk, then she wouldn’t have anything to do with her former friend.
Regency Romances Page 67