Page 42 of Courting Miss Lancaster
“Because he was no longer capable of leaving unassisted,” Harry answered.
Athena wasn’t certain, but she thought she felt Harry kiss the top of her head. His embrace tightened almost imperceptibly. What was it he always smelled like? She recognized the pleasant scent as his own but couldn’t identify it.
“Will he spread rumors, do you think?” Athena asked. It was what worried her the most. Mr. Rigby could leave her reputation in shreds or attempt to force her into marriage still. “Suppose he talks about what happened.”
“He won’t be talking about anything for a while, I assure you,” Harry answered. “Adam is nothing if not thorough.”
“I shouldn’t be happy to hear that someone is suffering,” Athena said.
“But you are happy about it,” Harry ascertained. “So am I. Adam wouldn’t share, unfortunately. I would have liked to have had a go at the man myself.”
“You are the very best of friends, Harry,” Athena said, feelingthe last remnants of tension slip away.
“Yes,” he answered. “A good . . . friend.”
Harry’s words, oddly enough, sounded regretful.
Chapter Seventeen
VW
Harry had been at FalstoneHouse until four o’clock that morning, sitting in on the discussion of Rigby’s actions. Adam hadn’t told Athena the extent to which he had knocked Rigby around. Beyond Adam’s valet and Harry, probably not a single soul knew that Adam had been required to change his shirt and cravat after the confrontation in the back sitting room. He had removed his jacket and waistcoat beforehand, else they, too, would have been blood-spattered. One thing was for sure, however—something Adam assured Athena of—Rigby would keep his mouth shut. There would be no scandal.
Athena had been palpably relieved. For that, Harry was infinitely grateful. But it was not the interview that had kept him awake long after returning to his rooms. He couldn’t clear his mind of the sensation of holding Athena in his arms.
Shehad leaned againsthim. And she had fit perfectly in his embrace. There had been no hesitation, no awkwardness. She had turned to him for answers, for reassurance, and he had been able to offer precisely that. The moment had been perfect and hopeful. For the space of a breath he had imagined himself holding her that way for hours on end, for years yet to come. Then she had called him agood friend,and reality had hit like a slap in the face.
Athena had remained in his arms a few moments longer, until the sound of approaching footsteps had necessitated Harry pulling away. He’d taken only a fraction of a second to memorizethe feel of her in his arms then resigned himself to being precisely what Athena had declared him to be: a friend.
Twelve hours after leaving Falstone House, Harry had returned and walked into the drawing room, reminding himself he was the adopted brother of the family. It was what he would always be. After Rigby’s near-fatal involvement in Athena’s Season, Adam was even more vocally opposed to fortune hunters.
Charles Dalforth was there, obviously dressed for an afternoon drive. Dalforth, it seemed, was making a great deal of headway.Hewas not, apparently, to be relegated to the rank of ineligible pseudorelative.
“Dalforth,” Harry greeted, knowing he sounded almost as disgruntled as he felt.
“Windover,” Dalforth replied. He didn’t sound any happier about the encounter than Harry did. His expression was almost accusatory. “I didn’t see Rigby toward the end of last night’s ball.”
“He was obliged to leave,” Harry explained curtly.
“His Grace, I assume, noticed Rigby was harassing Miss Lancaster,” Dalforth said. Harry nodded silently. “No gentleman should be permitted to make such a nuisance of himself, not to mention the inexcusableness of casting a shadow over her come-out ball.”
“As Rigby was dispatched, I fail to understand your accusatory tone,” Harry shot back.
“Do you?” Dalforth actually chuckled, the ironic kind of chuckle that had nothing to do with humor. “Who was it that introduced Mr. Rigby to Miss Lancaster?”
“I don’t—” Harry thought back, even as he spoke, to the Duke and Duchess of Hartley’s ball. Rigby had approached him as he was escorting Athena and had requested an introduction. “Technically,” Harry conceded, “I did, but—”
“I hadn’t thought you capable of that, Windover,” Dalforth cut across him. “I have never approved of your approach to ‘helping’ Miss Lancaster”—he saidhelpingwith such a heavy amount of derision that Harry knew Dalforth meant quite the opposite—“but this is inexcusable. What were you attempting to demonstratethistime? The desperation of a fortune hunter?”
The remark hit far too close to home.
“I hadn’t thought you would choose gentlemen who were entirely objectionable,” Dalforth continued, offering Harry no opportunity to defend himself. “Peterbrook. Handley. All the others were at least harmless, if rather ridiculous. ButRigby? Everyone knew he was under the hatches to the point of complete disaster. A man in that situation is likely to act out of desperation.”
“His Grace will not permit Miss Lancaster to be hurt.”
“Which is fortunate, since you seem to have no qualms about it.”
“How dare you!” Harry had never been so close to losing his temper.
