Page 90 of A Naughty Proposal for His Winter Countess
“Are you supposed to be telling me this?” Harriet asked, hesitantly. “I shouldn’t know about your martial affairs. I confess—you have me quite unsettled.”
“I don’t mean to upset you,” Antony’s reply was quiet while he rubbed her upper arm. “I just assumed—wrongly—that you’d understand.”
Despite his assurances, there was still something incredibly erotic about the way he spoke to her and touched her, that made Harriet concerned. “Perhaps you should find another way to amuse yourself during the time Martha is under treatment? Theater? A musical, perhaps?”
His lips pursed, “Maybe I’ll find something we can do together. A friend of mine has a ball in a few days, I’ll take her there.”
“Do that then,” Harriet replied happily. “You’ll mend your relationship, I know it.”
“I hope so too,” Antony said while standing. “I have some reports to look over, so good evening, Harriet, and try not to worry about it.”
“Thank you,” she responded.
With Antony gone, Harriet finished her meal with a strange sensation of alarm in her chest. Antony had acted strangely, and she wondered why. After trying to find a reason, she could only conclude that just as he said, he was feeling unfulfilled by Martha.
* * *
A week went by with Harriet barely leaving her room, but when she did dare venture out to the music room, Martha came there with a pile of newspapers in hand, “I think you should see these.”
“I’d rather not,” Harriet replied tonelessly while her fingers dropped idly on the pianoforte’s keys, “I don’t care to see my name splashed across every page.”
Resting the pile on the top of the instrument, Martha said, “That’s exactly why I mentioned it—because your name is nowhere to be found, in any of them; scandal pages and all.”
Her hands jerked away from the keys, “What?”
“See for yourself,” Martha nudged the stack to her. “The Times, the Gazette, The Chronicle, Morning Post, andThe Herald, they’re all there.”
Grabbing for the first, The Times, Harriet searched it—to find nothing. In disbelief she went onto the second and found it the same and by the time she had gone through all of them, there was no mention of her name.
“How could this happen?” she choked out in confusion.
Martha shrugged, “I can only conjecture that Barkley had something to do with it, as we all know there is little to stop people from running to the papers with a scandal.”
“I…” Harriet looked over the paper in her hand, then shot up from her seat, “I have something to do.”
Dashing to her rooms, Harriet grabbed a card from her escritoire and a quill pen she wrote out only five words because if allowed herself anymore, he would get a five-page letter.
Did you save my reputation?
She sent the note off with wild hope in her heart. She did not expect a reply that evening, but if the next morning came and he told her that he had nothing to do with it, her heart would be shattered. Going back to the music room, she found that Martha was gone, so she took the papers to her room for a closer study.
Her answer came the next day at dinner; Daniel had sent a tin of sweets and a card:Yes. I couldn’t let them drag your name through the mud.
She held the card tightly; even through all this, he still cared for her. Harriet wondered if somehow there could be a future for her and Daniel. If she could find a way for them to marry, she would do so with secrecy as she was sure Ben was still adamant on keeping them apart.
Delighted to tell Martha the news, she looked for her and found her and Antony in his study. Martha, however, was speaking passionately and was livid.
“He must pay for all he’s done to her!”
He, who?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“What!” Martha exclaimed. “Are you telling the cad who humiliated my sister is on the run?”
“That’s what I hear,” Antony replied. “Unless he comes back to London, we will not hear Dawson’s side of the story.”
“What is there to be told?” Martha snapped. “He mortified my sister. He must pay.”
