Henrietta interrupted again before Juliet had the opportunity to embarrass them both. Again. Henrietta had made the mistake only once of expressing her curiosity to Juliet and had been given more information than she'd ever needed in the bargain. Well, perhaps not more than was needed, but more than she'd wanted to think about concerning her sister.
“Nonetheless,” Juliet said then cleared her throat. “I have no wish for you to be a spinster. You’re much too young and beautiful for that. So you’ll be going to London next month—” she took a deep breath— “without me.”
“Without you?” Henrietta echoed as a myriad of emotions cycled through her at the same time: excitement and unease, panic and yet relief among the most prominent.
“Without me,” Juliet confirmed, placing a hand on her abdomen. “I’ve been informed I shouldn’t travel.”
Henrietta’s eyes widened. She’d suspected her sister was once again with child, but hadn’t considered something was wrong. “Should I stay?” she asked, casting her own selfish wants and desires aside. If her sister needed her, she'd stay.
“No.” Juliet shook her head. “You’re going.”
“But if something’s wrong shouldn’t I stay here?” Truth to tell, it was always Juliet who’d assisted in their mother’s numerous deliveries, but Henrietta would stay and help if she was needed. It was the least she owed her sister for all the kindness she’d shown her the past few years by letting her live at Crumbles, the appropriately named crumbling cottage she and her husband Drake, Lord Drakely, chose to live in for who knows what reason.
“Nothing is wrong. I just think it’s best I stay.”
Henrietta narrowed her eyes on her sister. “What are you not telling me?”
“Mother’s having another, too,” Juliet blurted out.
Henrietta closed her eyes and shook her head. Three years had passed since Jacob was born; she honestly didn’t expect they’d have any more. “Will she ever stop?”
“No, and I’d imagine if you marry you just might have a brood yourself,” Juliet said, winking.
“I doubt that,” Henrietta muttered with a snort. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”
Juliet cocked her head to the side, squinted her left eye, and playfully wagged a finger at her. “Henrietta, that isn’t going to work. Nothing is wrong other than what you’re dreaming up.”
“I’m not trying to wish harm on you,” Henrietta defended.
Juliet dropped her hands to her lap and nodded once. “I know. But I just don’t understand why you have no interest in marriage.”
“Who said I had no interest?” She cleared her throat to cover the unevenness she'd detected in her own voice and prayed Juliet wouldn't question her.
“You've been pursued by all the wealthiest and most sought-after gentlemen in London the past two Seasons and have refused to marry any of them. Or even dance with them,” she added, throwing her hands up into the air.
Henrietta dropped her eyes to her lap, mindlessly following the pleats of her purple skirts with her eyes. Likely, Juliet wouldn’t understand even if Henrietta told her. Which she would not be doing. Ever. “I know you’re happy being married, but perhaps it’s not for me.”
“You never know. You just might enjoy being married.”
“But if I don’t, I’ll still have to endure the misery for as long as I shall live,” Henrietta pointed out.
“That’s true,” Juliet conceded. “But, I still think you might enjoy it.”
“Well, if my marriage is even half as exciting as yours is rumored to be, I'm sure I'll enjoy it very much.”
Juliet eyed her askance and Henrietta refused to meet her gaze. “As I was saying,” her sister started again, still giving her a queer look, “I won't be able to go with you to London so I've had to arrange for a chaperone.”
Henrietta bit her lip to keep from smiling. Juliet had only two close friends of rank: Lady Watson and Lady Sinclair. Both were a bit lax on the rules and didn’t seem to give one whit about matchmaking. “I’m sure you took the most care in selecting my chaperone.”
“You're right, I did,” Juliet agreed with a large grin that made Henrietta's insides flip. Just what was Juliet about?
“Is it Lady Watson or Lady Sinclair?”
“Neither.” The sparkle in Juliet's grey eyes made dread build up in Henrietta's chest. “It's Lady Townson.”
“The dowager?” Henrietta asked hopefully, ignoring the way her eyes must be on the verge of bulging right out of their sockets. Brooke, Lady Townson, the dowager's daughter-in-law, though well-meaning had a tendency to create scandal everywhere she trod. And not just small scandals, the ones that were