Rakes and Radishes by Susanna Ives Read Free Book Online Page B

been so harsh. It breaks my heart to see him so dejected.”
    He put a hand on her cheek. A column of tightness rose from Henrietta’s lungs to her throat. She resisted the urge to back away.
    “Your fierce love and loyalty to your father is commendable. Would I be presumptuous to desire the same love and loyalty for myself?” He took her hand and pressed it to his heart. “Miss Watson, I love you. I always viewed marriage as a necessity, not a want. For how could one mere woman keep me enchanted, for quickly I would tire of immature opinions and insipid conversation? But I feel that I can never have enough of your company, your presence. You perform the most difficult mathematical calculation while asking me if the paint color suits the study. You are the most bewitching lady I have ever met.”
    His blue eyes, once cold and reserved, were filled with a terrifying mixture of fear, hope and vulnerability. She felt a rush of compassion for the astronomer. She wished she could return his affections, that she wouldn’t have to break a heart like hers had been broken. How perfect the match would be for her father’s career.
    Yet, she just couldn’t.
    She reached deep for her courage, hoping that she wasn’t destroying her father’s dreams, that she shouldn’t feel ashamed or guilt-ridden for the words she was about to say. “I—”
    He grabbed her shoulders, letting her blanket fall to the floor, then drew her to him and pressed his lips on hers. They were warm, full and not entirely unpleasant. He shivered and tightened his hold on her, squeezing her against his chest. He didn’t have Edward’s musky scent—he was sweeter—and she didn’t tingle at his touch. There was just a feeling of detached observation, a pleasing curiosity.
    He opened her mouth with the pressure of his lips, brushing his warm tongue against hers. She pushed him away.
    “I’m sorry,” he said thickly.
    Out in the hall came the sound of the rusty creak of the old great door being opened. Kesseley’s heavy steps echoed through the corridor.
    Mr. Van Heerlen squeezed her fingers. “Promise you’ll come back, dearest Henrietta. That you will consider all that I have said.”
    The door to the parlor opened.
    “Say it!”
    “I…”
    “Please.”
    “I—I prom—”
    “Have I interrupted something?” Kesseley inquired, his gaze latched on to Henrietta’s hot face.
    Oh Lud, what had she done now?
    ***

    As the rising sunlight cracked over the horizon and Kesseley’s footmen hoisted Henrietta’s trunk into the carriage. She stood quiet, holding her arms about herself.
    Usually Kesseley played the funny jester to lighten her mood, but he was tired and in poor humor. He hated traveling any distance longer than two hours and had been up all night seeing to the small details at Wrenthorpe, writing detailed instructions for ridding his barley of parasites should an infestation occur during his absence, as well as diagramming the dimensions of the drainage ditch he required for the clover. He had concluded that the estate would crumble to the ground in his absence. Additionally, he’d received a stack of correspondences from various politicians who, upon learning he was coming to London, were busy setting up appointments to meet him. He liked the proxy vote—it left little room for compromise—and he detested compromising when it meant bad agricultural reform. On top of it all, his mother carried on like some doomsday prophet. He just wanted to stay home.
    He stepped into the carriage. Samuel was sprawled out beside his mother, who sat asleep with her head cradled on the side of the carriage.
    Kesseley shook Samuel. “Down, big boy.”
    He picked the hound up and put him on the floor. Then he swept the dog fur off the seat and offered Henrietta his hand. She reached up and latched on with her small fingers. He lifted her up, bringing her head on level with his, the moist vapor of her breath warming his cheek. Her lips were rosier than