“…The McQuoids are vulgar and crude…”
Hartwell had always made it clear what he thought of Fleur.
“…As if I would ever court you…”
Hart, who would resent her forever if he learned she was the lady from the masquerade.
“Time and time again, you go out of your way to make a mockery of me, my name, my title.”
And if forced to marry Fleur, he would hate her forever.
For Henry, whom she had to bully into friendship, had already and effortlessly selected a paragon to be his duchess.
That was the last thought Fleur had before she fainted.
Chapter 18
My dear Fleur,
We can wait no longer for you to return—not without creating gossip. We are to the Duke of Hartwell’s dinner party.
I am disappointed in you for becoming lost in your outing and urge you to make haste.
Your Mother
After her long visit at Rundell and Bridge’s, Fleur had wanted to beg off Henry’s soiree. By the time she had returned home, it had been to find her family already gone and a note left by her mother.
The coordinated event between their families demanded her presence, especially after her scandalous swoon at Cassia and Nathaniel’s ball yesterday.
Henry and Fleur’s family thought she didn’t care about propriety, but she did. Far more than she let on.
Fleur couldn’t decide which was worse: missing the duke’s gathering or arriving after dinner.
She told herself the latter was the greatest grievance.
She also knew being there with him after what she learned today would be unbearable.
But she was no coward and had brought herself to go.
Now, Fleur waited outside the music room, where the Duke of Hartwell’s guests were already seated. She assumed the McQuoids, Tremaines, and the rest of the seafaring families were present. She didn’t know why she expected it—she just had.
Fleur had been wrong. So very wrong.
There were so many guests present. It appeared as if all the most powerful peers and their impeccable daughters had gathered for the night’s entertainment.
Her heart thudded sickly against her ribs.
There, in the front row, alongside the Duke and Duchess of Talbert and Lady Angela, sat Henry.
She watched as he conversed with the exquisite young woman. Their conversation and smiles came effortlessly.
Fleur wanted to cry.
Then she rememberedwhyshe wanted to cry all the time.
The babe.
Her and Henry’s babe.