It was the truth. Since Mr. Archer had turned his attentions to Henrietta, Laura had been thrust into George’s company far more than she cared to be. Granted, things between them were a little easier. But she didn’t trust George. There was a furtive sort of restlessness about him. As if he were counting the seconds until he could get away from Lower Hawley and back to the depraved life he’d been living in town.

“Poor George,” Henrietta said with sigh. “He’s not the best company, is he? I expect he finds all the fresh air and outdoor activity a tedious ordeal.”

“It’s good for him,” Laura said. “Whether he likes it or not.”

“My feelings exactly.” Henrietta stopped not far from her father’s barouche. “I’m pleased that Mr. Archer enjoys the country. He’s very well suited to Lower Hawley, don’t you think?”

What Laura thought was that Mr. Archer would be well suited anywhere. She wondered how he really felt about their little village. How appealing would ruralizing be if there wasn’t the promise of a fortune at the end of it? Not very appealing at all, she suspected. “He’s certainly been game enough for all of the activities you’ve planned.”

“Yes, he’s very indulgent of my whims. And Papa approves of him, too. The two of them get on so well together.” Henrietta gave Laura a narrow glance. “Do you know, I thought he looked at you rather too much in the beginning. Now he looks at you not at all.”

“Mr. Archer?”

“I daresay he found you interesting at first. Even pretty.”

Laura recognized the sharp hint of jealousy in Henrietta’s tone. It instantly put her on her guard. She couldn’t afford to make an enemy of Henrietta Talbot. Especially not when she’d only just borrowed twenty pounds from her.

It was too much, but Henrietta had insisted.

“You will pay it back, of course,” she’d said. “Within a twelve-month, shall we say? At six percent interest?”

Laura’s stomach clenched just to think of it. She hadn’t expected that Henrietta would make her a gift of the money. She’d fully intended to pay it back, whatever the sum. But her friend’s businesslike attitude toward the request—speaking of payment terms and interest, and even requiring Laura to sign a note—had made Laura distinctly uneasy.

“Nonsense,” she said. “Mr. Archer is completely smitten with you.”

“Do you really think so?” Henrietta asked.

“I know it.” Laura felt like a liar and a fraud. Even worse, she felt like a poor friend. She should be warning Henrietta, not encouraging her. “But, Hen…”