Page 27 of The Reckless Love of an Heir
‘Papa, I live as all young men live before they are wed. You cannot expect better of me than you did of yourself.’
His father huffed out a breath as he sat. ‘Except that I regret the way I lived. It brought me no happiness, as your mother will tell you. Given a chance to turn back time she and I would have married when we were young and I would have accepted the responsibility of supporting my father. I shall always consider my wild years as years I lost or threw away.’
‘Well, I am in my wild years, and I consider them precious. I am not you, and I am not throwing them away.’
8
The carriage drew to a halt before the Palladian frontage of the assembly rooms in Blake Street. A footman opened the carriage door. Henry climbed out first, and stood beneath the giant portico, then offered his hand to Sarah to help her descend. It felt very freeing to have his right arm back, and yet the muscle had wasted a little, and his shoulder was still stiff and sore.
‘Nervous?’ he whispered when her foot touched the pavement.
‘Excited,’ she answered, with a broad smile.
He smiled too. He’d not imagined that accompanying Sarah to her first dance would move him at all, but he was moved. He was proud of his oldest sister.
She had walked downstairs into the hall with the brightest smile, looking full grown, and beautiful. She had their mother’s unusual emerald green eyes and dark brown hair, and with it styled in such a grown-up manner… She had become a woman, and somehow he had missed it, until this evening.
He offered his arm to Sarah as his parents descended. ‘Allow me to be the one who walks you in.’
She smiled at him again.
Emotion clutched tight in his chest. He was the eldest; one day he would be the head of their family like his cousin John, the Duke of Pembroke, was of his. Henry had never considered the idea before.
They walked into the large assembly rooms. He’d never attended before. It was a long, rectangular room, surrounded with pilasters of beige marble and full of people, music and conversation. Henry did not recognise anyone. It was not London.
There was a country dance in progress. He leaned towards his sister. ‘As we cannot join this dance let me take you to find the refreshments.’
People bowed and curtsied as they walked past. Of course among these people they stood out because of their father’s title.
Pride burned with a roaring flame in his chest. It must be the first time Sarah had experienced such recognition and it would be the first time she would dance outside their home, or a member of their family’s home. When the season began she would come to London and dance too. His sister, all grown up.
A different sensation clasped in his chest, one more brutal and aggressively masculine. A need to protect her. He knew too much of London. Too much of what occurred outside the ballrooms. When she came to London he would need to watch her. There would be rakes and scoundrels all about her; men like him and his father.
The thought stabbed him with embarrassment. From that perspective perhaps he could appreciate his father’s view. He would not care for Sarah to know anything of his life in town.
‘Wine?’ he offered when they neared the refreshment table. When she nodded, he picked up a glass and handed it to her.
‘Thank you, Henry.’
Their mother and father approached. ‘Mama?’ He picked up another glass for her.
Several people in the room stared at them, yet others came forward, and then the introductions began. ‘This is my eldest daughter, Sarah… This is my son, Lord Henry…’
The people Henry was introduced to were mostly the merchants and businessmen of York, though there were a small number of untitled relations of aristocratic families. Of course the businessmen and merchants benefited from his father’s patronage and so they were very keen to be introduced to his heir and compliment Sarah, even if she looked hideous, because these men and their wives were merely scraping to gain the interest of an earl.
Henry was glad when the current dance came to its end so he and Sarah could escape. His intent, then, was to dance all night and avoid any more fuss.
He smiled at Sarah, conspiratorially, and lifted his good arm. ‘Shall we?’
‘Yes, please.’
Sarah lay her fingers on top of the fabric of his evening coat. He escorted her onto the floor.
It was another country dance. They stood and faced one another. Her cheeks had turned pink. She was holding the attention of many people in this room, and as many women as men. He presumed the women were jealous of his sister’s wealth and beauty. She would have a dowry that would be sought after. Yes, he would need to protect her in town.
He winked at her, to make her relax.
She smiled, and then the music and the dancing began.
