An Innocent Debutante in Hanover Square
Anne Herries
Innocent Miss, Powerful Lord!Debutante Helene Henderson has been given a gift of one season in London ; if she is to save her impoverished family she must find a husband! Only unworldly Helene's compassionate nature leads her into the path of a handsome rake with secrets of his own. . .Lord Max Coleridge is intrigued by Helene's beguiling mix of shyness and spirit ; but with his life in danger, how can he put her at risk? Helene's courage shines through and Max intends to solve this mystery ; and make this innocent miss his bride!Debutantes enjoy the delights ofA Season in Town
‘I do not believe it would be a good thing for you to dance with Lord Coleridge too often,’ Mrs Henderson said, coming up to her.
‘He is a perfect gentleman, Helene, and well liked—but you must not set your heart on him. He mixes in circles that we shall scarcely enter, my dear.’
‘I am very certain he would not do for me, Mama,’ Helene replied primly, though a little voice at the back of her mind told her that she was not telling the whole truth.
She did like Lord Coleridge, more than she was prepared to admit, but of course it would not do at all. He was a member of the aristocracy—and she had vowed long ago that she would never give her heart to anyone who might break it as her mama’s had been broken.
Anne Herries lives in Cambridgeshire, where she is fond of watching wildlife and spoils the birds and squirrels that are frequent visitors to her garden. Anne loves to write about the beauty of nature, and sometimes puts a little into her books—although they are mostly about love and romance. She writes for her own enjoyment, and to give pleasure to her readers. She is a winner of the Romantic Novelists’ Association Romance Prize.
Recent novels by the same author:
MARRYING CAPTAIN JACK
THE UNKNOWN HEIR
THE HOMELESS HEIRESS
THE RAKE’S REBELLIOUS LADY
A COUNTRY MISS IN HANOVER SQUARE
A Season in Town trilogy
And in the Regency series The Steepwood Scandal:
LORD RAVENSDEN’S MARRIAGE
COUNTERFEIT EARL
And in The Hellfire Mysteries:
AN IMPROPER COMPANION
A WEALTHY WIDOW
A WORTHY GENTLEMAN
AN INNOCENT DEBUTANTE IN HANOVER SQUARE
Anne Herries
MILLS & BOON
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk/)
Author Note
This is the second in my A Season in Town mini-series. Amelia Royston has invited Helene to stay with her for the season. Helene knows that she must marry well, and she is very attracted to Lord Coleridge, but she does not think he could possibly be interested in a girl like her. However, it seems that someone is bent on causing him harm, perhaps taking his life, and Helene is instrumental in preventing one such attack. Can she and Max discover who is behind these attempts, and can they find happiness together?
Amelia is feeling a little low, because it seems that Gerard has forgotten her and the love they once shared. She will have to settle for living alone and inviting her friends to stay, because she could not contemplate marrying anyone else.
Book Three is Amelia and Gerard’s tale. I hope you will enjoy these stories, and I thank all my readers for their continued support. Please keep writing to me at linda@ lindasole.co.uk
Chapter One
‘Oh, no, you don’t!’ Max Coleridge said as the urchin attempted to pluck a kerchief from the pocket of his companion. His hand shot out, grasping the dirty boy around his wrist with a grip of iron. ‘That is thieving, my lad, and it will land you in prison. You will end with your neck stretched at the nubbing cheat if you continue this way.’
‘Let me go, guv,’ the boy whined. ‘I ain’t done nuffin’ bad, honest I ain’t—but I ain’t had nuffin’ ter eat fer a week!’
‘Indeed?’ Max’s right eyebrow arched. ‘Should I believe you, I wonder? And what should I do with you supposing that I do?’
‘Let the ruffian go and be done with it,’ Sir Roger Cole advised. ‘I dare say he deserves to be handed over to the beadle, but it requires far too much effort.’
‘Your trouble, my friend, is that you are too lazy,’ Max replied with a smile that robbed his words of any offence. ‘No, I shall not let the boy go—he would simply rob someone else and eventually he will die in prison or at the rope’s end.’ His grasp tightened about the lad’s arm. ‘Tell me your name, lad. I shall take you home and tell your father to keep you off the streets.’
‘Me name’s Arthur,’ the boy muttered sullenly. ‘I ain’t got no home nor no farvver or muvver neivver. Ain’t got no one. Let me go like the gent said, sir. I won’t trouble you no more.’
‘No family at all?’ Arthur shook his head and Max sighed. ‘Unfortunately, if I let you go, you would trouble my conscience far more than you imagine. I shall take you with me. You are going to school, Arthur—whether you like it or not.’
‘School? Wot’s that?’ Arthur asked and wiped his running nose on his sleeve. He eyed the large man suspiciously. ‘You ain’t one o’ them queer nabs, are yer?’
‘I am certainly not,’ Max denied with a wry smile. ‘If you are hungry, you will like school—you will be fed three times a day, if you behave yourself.’
‘Food fer nuffin’?’Arthur stared at him suspiciously. ‘Wot’s the catch, guv?’ As to be a catch. No one does nuffin’ fer nuffin’…’
‘No, I dare say they do not where you come from,’ Max said. ‘In return, you will have to give up a life of crime—and grime—and learn a trade…’
‘I ain’t goin’ up no chimneys!’
‘Good grief, I should hope not,’ Max said. ‘You might like to be a carpenter or a groom, perhaps—or even a politician?’
‘You shouldn’t put ideas into the boy’s head, Coleridge,’ Sir Roger said. ‘A politician, indeed!’
‘He could not do much worse than those we have in power at the moment,’ Max replied wryly. ‘But I would advise an honest trade—perhaps a baker?’
‘I like cake,’ Arthur said, his eyes suddenly bright. ‘I pinched some orf a baker’s stall once on the market.’
‘There you are, then,’ Max said, hiding his smile. ‘The future looms brighter already, Arthur—a baker you shall be.’
‘You are mad, quite mad,’ Sir Roger said and grinned. ‘It is hardly surprising that you are not married, my dear fellow. I do not know whether any sensible woman would have you.’
‘I dare say she wouldn’t if she knew my habit of picking up boys from the streets,’ Max replied and smiled at his friend. ‘Excuse me, I have a rather dirty ruffian to scrub before I present him to someone who will teach him a few manners…’ He neatly avoided a kick from the struggling urchin. ‘I should give up if I were you, Arthur. I could always change my mind and hand you over to the constable, and then you might never eat cake again.’
Helene eyed the chimney-sweep wrathfully, one hand on the shoulder of the small boy at her side. Her eyes just now were the colour of wet slate, her normally generous mouth pulled tight in an expression of disgust.
‘You will go and you will leave Ned with me,’ she said, her voice strong and fearless despite the knots tying themselves in her stomach as she faced the great brute of a man she had caught beating his climbing boy. ‘You are lucky that I do not call the magistrate and have you arrested for cruelty. This child is too ill to do his work.’
‘Lazy ingrate that’s what he be,’ the sweep muttered. His hands were ingrained with soot, his face streaked with it. He had a fearful scar on one cheek and he squinted with his left eye. He was scowling so fiercely that Helene’s courage might have deserted her had she not seen the scars on a previous climbing-boy’s back. Jeb had died of his injuries. She was determined that it would not happen to Ned. ‘I bought the brat from the workhouse. He belongs to me—and that’s the law. You can’t take him from me, miss.’
‘What did you pay for him?’ Helene was haughty as she faced her much larger opponent across the kitchen of her uncle’s home. She knew that the sweep could fell her with a blow of his huge fist, but she refused to feel afraid. ‘Tell me and you shall be paid.’
‘I paid ten gold guineas for him,’ the sweep growled.
Helene knew that he was lying. No one paid so much for a boy from the workhouse. However, she understood that she must pay the price if she wished to take the child from him.
‘Very well, you shall be paid,’ she promised. ‘You may go. I will send the money to your wife tomorrow.’
The sweep scowled at her, anger flashing in his eyes. ‘If you don’t send the money—all of it!—I shall come and take him back,’ he muttered and went off, stomping out of the kitchen in a temper.
‘You’ve landed yourself in a pickle again, miss.’ Bessie stared at her. ‘Where will you find ten guineas to pay him? And what are we to do with the lad now we have him?’
Helene felt the lad tremble beneath her hand. ‘Don’t send me back to Mr Beazor, miss,’ he said, sniffed and wiped the back of his hand across his nose and then on his disreputable breeches, smearing more soot on his face in the process. ‘He’ll kill me sure as hell is full of the devil.’
‘You watch your language,’ Bessie warned him sharply. ‘Speak respectful to Miss Henderson. She just saved you from a terrible beating.’
‘Please do not scold him, Bessie,’ Helene said and smiled at the maid she thought of as her best friend. Bessie was her mama’s only servant and had helped Helene out of scrapes many times when she was a girl. ‘I think he needs a bath and something to eat.’
‘He could certainly do with a bath,’ Bessie agreed. ‘He doesn’t smell too sweet.’
‘What’s a bath?’ Ned eyed them suspiciously. ‘Does it hurt?’
‘Lord bless him!’ Bessie laughed. ‘We’re going to put you in a tub of hot water and wash all the soot and grime off you, lad.’
‘Nah…don’t fancy that…’ Ned backed away from them nervously.
‘I promise you it won’t hurt,’ Helene told him. ‘Afterwards, I shall put some ointment on your back and then you can eat your meal.’
‘What’s to eat?’ Ned looked round hopefully, a sign of interest in his eyes now.
‘You shall have a hot meat pie and some cake,’ Bessie said, seeing the gleam and smiling inwardly. ‘But you’ve got to be clean. I can’t have dirty boys in my kitchen.’
‘Are you certain it don’t hurt?’ Ned’s nose twitched as the smell of pies baking reached his nostrils.
‘I promise,’ Helene said and turned as one of the other servants entered the kitchen. ‘Jethro, will you fetch the tub from the scullery, please? We are going to give this lad a bath.’
Jethro nodded. ‘I saw Beazor looking like thunder. He’s a bad man, miss. He’s already done for two workhouse lads. He’s been warned that if it happens again he won’t get another.’
‘Is that all they can think of to threaten him with?’ Helene’s eyes flashed. ‘In my opinion, a beating is the least he deserves. He has killed boys and no one does anything to stop him.’
‘Yes, miss, a few of us were thinking the same,’ Jethro said, his expression grim. ‘I’ll fetch the tub and give you a hand with him, Bessie. Your uncle was looking for you, Miss Henderson.’
‘Yes, I know he wished to speak with me,’ Helene said. ‘I shall have to ask him what we should do with Ned.’
‘You can leave him to me, miss,’ Jethro said. ‘I need a lad to help out in the yard. He’ll do with me. No need to bother Mr Barnes.’
‘No, I would rather not…’ Helene thanked him, told Ned to be good and hurried away to keep her appointment with her uncle. Edgar Barnes was a fair-minded man. He had taken his sister and her child in when Helene’s father died from a fever after a fall from his horse. However, he was not a wealthy man. He had promised to do something for her, and she knew that he had summoned her to his library to talk about her dowry that morning. She had been offered a Season in town by a good friend of her mother’s. Her uncle had already given her fifty pounds towards her spending money in town, but the dowry would need to be a more substantial sum if she were to stand a chance of making a good match. Especially in view of what some might see as her unfortunate background.
Helene could ill afford to give Beazor the ten guineas she had promised him, but she must do it. Her mother had spoken of Miss Royston being very generous, but Helene was not perfectly sure what that meant, though she knew they were to be guests at Miss Amelia Royston’s town house. Neither her uncle nor her mother could have afforded to give her a London Season and she felt very grateful to the lady she remembered only vaguely. It was very kind of Miss Royston to send such an invitation.
Helene hesitated outside her uncle’s door, then took a deep breath, knocked and opened the door. He was writing at his desk, but looked up as she entered and smiled.
‘Ah, Helene, my dear. I am pleased to see you. Come in, niece, and sit down. I want to talk to you about your visit to town.’
‘Yes, Uncle. I am sorry I am a little late, sir.’
‘No matter…’ He waved his hand in a dismissive manner. ‘I am sure you understand your great good fortune and the opportunity this visit affords you?’
‘Yes, Uncle. I am very grateful to Miss Royston for inviting us.’
‘You must make the most of it,’ Uncle Edgar told her, his fingers touching as he placed his hands in the steeple position and looked serious. ‘I have two sons to see through college and I must do something to secure the future of my younger boy. Matthew wants a set of colours and that is an expense I can scarcely bear. I had thought I might give you fifty pounds a year, but some of my investments have failed miserably and I am no longer able to make the commitment.’
‘I am sorry for your loss, sir,’ Helene told him, her heart sinking. Without a dowry she would stand little chance of making an advantageous match. The fact of her maternal grandfather having been in trade was a disadvantage in itself, though Helene herself was proud of being Matthew Barnes’s granddaughter. He had fought his way up from lowly beginnings to become a man of some fortune, which accorded well with her notions of equality. Unfortunately, a quarrel between Helene’s mama and her father had meant that Mrs Henderson had been left a mere competence. Helene had nothing at all, for she had not been born when Matthew Barnes died. ‘Then I have no dowry at all?’
‘I can give you a hundred pounds extra now and that is all,’ Uncle Edgar said with a sigh of regret. ‘I am sorry, Helene. It is fortunate that your mother has a good friend in Miss Royston.’
‘Yes, the visit will be pleasant, though I think I may not be able to oblige Mama by making a good marriage…’
‘Miss Royston understands the situation and she is giving you five thousand pounds as a dowry.’ Helene gasped at the news and her uncle smiled. ‘Yes, it is a very large sum, Helene. It should help you to make a good match. All the more reason why you should make sure you please your benefactress. You must strive to be on your best behaviour and to make the most of your chances. You must not be too particular, Helene. Do not expect a great match, my dear. He should be a decent man, of course—and you must not go against the wishes of Miss Royston. However, I know you to be a sensible girl…most of the time. But I shall say nothing of your little lapses, which I know come from your heart. You care about others and that is not a bad thing, but sometimes you are led into the wrong paths by impulse.’
Helene wondered if he had heard anything of the scene in his kitchen earlier, but she did not ask. Her uncle would not want to be involved in the quarrel, for he always took the line of least resistance if he could, and he would probably say that Ned should be returned to his master. He certainly would not approve of paying ten guineas to the sweep!
‘I do try to be sensible, Uncle,’ Helene told him. ‘It is just that I cannot stand cruelty in any form.’
‘I do not like it myself, but sometimes one has to look the other way, Helene.’
‘Yes, Uncle. I shall try to remember.’
Helene’s thoughts were very different to her words. She and Bessie had done what they could to save the climbing boy who had been beaten so badly that he died. The sight of his emaciated body, the bruises and the way he had just turned his face to the wall and died had lived in her mind, because she had known that his spirit was broken, too. If she’d had a little money of her own, she would have set up a school for poor boys and alleviated the worst of their suffering. However, even then she could help only a few, and she had often thought the answer lay with men like her uncle. Edgar Barnes was not wealthy, but he had standing in the community. He and others far more powerful should put a stop to the barbaric laws that allowed children to be bought for a few shillings, half-starved and forced to work for their bread.
However, she knew better than to voice her opinion on the matter. Most gentlemen believed ladies should be seen and admired, treated with utmost gentleness, but their opinions seldom counted for anything other than in the matter of the household they ran. Such attitudes might have made Helene angry had she not understood it was simply the way of things. Because she might otherwise have said too much, Helene had fallen into the habit of saying little in the company of her uncle’s friends. They were all older men, gallant, charming and entrenched in their traditions. To challenge their longheld beliefs would have been rude. As a result she was deemed to be a quiet girl, pretty enough but perhaps a little shy?
As Helene left her uncle’s study, her thoughts returned to the problem of the sweep. She decided that she would consult Jethro in the matter of payment. She would give him the money and trust him to pay what was necessary. Anything he saved could be spent on some decent clothes for Ned. She could hardly expect him to support the boy entirely from his own pocket.
As she went upstairs to her bedchamber, Helene mentally reviewed the gowns she was taking with her to London. She had four new evening dresses, one morning gown and one for the afternoon; all the others had been worn several times before she went into mourning for her father. Would they be enough to see her through the Season? If her uncle gave her the hundred pounds he had promised, perhaps she might purchase a few extra gowns, for she was certain they would be needed if they were invited to some modest affairs. It was hardly likely that she would attend the most prestigious balls taking place in the houses of the aristocracy—although her father had been a gentleman, he had never possessed a vast fortune or a title.
Helene decided that she would wait until she got to London before purchasing more gowns. It would not be long now and she might not actually need them. The money would be better saved for more important things…
Helene stood just behind her mother, as their hostess received them. The house was a three-storey building in an elegant square in the heart of London, beautifully furnished and quite large.
‘Marie—how lovely to see you. You are looking very well,’ Miss Royston greeted them as they were shown into the comfortable parlour, which they had been told was used for private afternoons. ‘And this is Helene, I believe? You have grown, my love. I knew that you would be a young lady by now, but I did not think you would be so very pretty!’
Helene’s cheeks turned to a delicate rose. She felt a little uncomfortable as she bobbed a respectful curtsy. ‘You are so very kind, Miss Royston,’ she said. ‘Indeed, Mama tells me you have been extraordinarily generous. I do not know how to thank you, ma’am.’
‘Please call me Amelia when we are private together,’ Amelia said. ‘I need no thanks, Helene. I shall enjoy having friends to stay—and as for the other—’ Helene lowered her gaze, feeling slightly embarrassed ‘—please do not feel under any obligation, my dear. I was very fortunate in being left a great deal of money by my aunt, far more than I could ever need, in fact. Helping my friends is a great pleasure to me. I do not wish you to feel you owe me something, for I have known what it is like to be beholden to others.’
‘Mama told me that you were not happy in your brother’s house,’ Helene said and raised her eyes to meet Amelia’s. ‘Uncle Edgar has been kind to us, but I must admit it is not like living in your own home.’
‘No, it cannot be,’ Amelia replied. ‘I have asked my dressmaker to call in the morning, Helene. We all need new gowns and it will be amusing to choose them here. We can look at patterns and materials together…but I am forgetting my manners. This lady is Emily Barton. She is my friend and my companion. I am not sure what I should do without her—she completely spoils me!’
Helene turned her gaze on the lady standing silently by the fireplace. She had dark blonde hair and the saddest eyes that Helene ever remembered seeing.
‘Miss Barton,’ Helene said and dipped a curtsy, ‘I am pleased to meet you.’
‘I am pleased to meet you,’ Emily replied. ‘Shall we sit together on the sofa?’
Helene went to sit by Emily. Amelia Royston turned her attention to Mrs Henderson, drawing her to a comfortable chair near the fire and offering refreshment.
‘Would you care for tea—or something a little stronger? A glass of wine, perhaps, to keep out the chill of the day. It has turned a little cold for the time of year, do you not think so?’
‘How kind,’ Mrs Henderson said and sat down near the fire. ‘I should not mind a glass of wine, Amelia. The roads were terribly rutted in places and we were rattled so in my brother’s carriage. I thought we should break a pole or lose a wheel, but we arrived safely. Edgar talks of buying a new carriage but his sons are at college and he cannot afford such luxuries for the moment.’
‘When you go home, you shall be taken in my carriage,’ Amelia told her. ‘Had I known, I would have sent it to collect you, Marie. Forgive me for not thinking of it.’
‘Oh, no—you have already done so much.’
‘Really, it is very little to me,’ Amelia assured her with a gentle smile. ‘I am glad to entertain my friends, you know. I am not lonely now that I have Emily, but we both like to have friends to stay.’
‘In the matter of Helene’s clothes…I have some money,’ Mrs Henderson began, a slight flush in her cheeks, but Amelia shook her head.
‘We do not need to speak of it. My seamstress will send her bills to me and we shall talk about this at the end of the Season. If we are fortunate and Helene secures a good husband, neither of you will have to worry about money again.’
‘Yes…’ Mrs Henderson looked doubtful. ‘You look…beautiful, Amelia. Scarcely older than when I last saw you.’
‘Oh, I hardly think that,’ Amelia said on a laugh. ‘I am approaching my twenty-seventh birthday, Marie.’
‘No one would know if you did not tell them.’ Mrs Henderson arched her brows. ‘Have you never thought of marriage yourself?’
‘I thought of it some years ago, but my brother did not approve…’ Amelia frowned. For a moment her expression was sad, pained, but then she raised her head in a determined fashion. ‘I fear I am past the age for marrying now, Marie. You were no more than nineteen when you married, I believe?’
‘Hardly that,’ Mrs Henderson said and sighed. ‘It was an imprudent match, for my William did not have sufficient fortune and it caused a breach with my father. In his anger he struck my name from his will. Papa did not hold with the aristocracy—he thought them proud and arrogant. I believe he would have reinstated me later, but he died suddenly, just before Helene was born, and I was left with a fraction of what might have been mine. I do not regret my marriage, for my husband was a good man and I loved him, but I have regretted the lack of fortune for my daughter’s sake. I had hoped her uncle might do something for her, but he finds himself in some financial difficulty, I believe.’
‘It is the way of things—and sons can be expensive,’ Amelia said. ‘My brother has two sons and he often complains to me of their extravagance. John has taken a pair of colours, but the younger son prefers to live in London. Your brother was widowed just before you lost your husband. Is it your intention to return and keep house for him—even if Helene should marry well?’
‘Oh…I am not certain,’ Mrs Henderson replied. ‘Edgar has a very good housekeeper and I am not necessary to him, though he would not turn me away.’ She could not prevent a sigh escaping. ‘He was very good to take us in but…you understand, of course.’
‘Ah, yes, I do. I was forced to reside with my brother and his wife until I went to live with my aunt,’ Amelia said and gave her a look of sympathy. ‘You are not alone in your predicament, Marie, for many women find themselves reduced to living on a competence when their husbands die. It cannot have been comfortable for you, my dear. Well, we must wait and see what kind of an impression Helene makes—if she is to be accepted, she needs to be well dressed.’
Helene blushed as the two ladies looked at her. It was obvious that she was expected to make a good match. She was determined to do her best, for her uncle’s warning had played on her mind. She did not think he would be too pleased if she returned at the end of the Season with no prospect of a good marriage before her. However, she knew that her mama had not been well treated by her father’s family, who had frowned on the marriage and cut her most cruelly because of her background. Knowing her mama’s story had helped Helene to become quite radical in her thinking. She was not sure that she approved of the aristocracy and their privileged way of living. In that she probably took after her maternal grandfather. Mrs Henderson said that she had his temperament and was equally as stubborn.
It would not do for Helene to be married to one of the idle rich! She must hope that she could find a sensible man who had compassion for those less fortunate than himself. Helene knew that her mama had great hopes for her and she was afraid that she might be disappointed if her daughter’s choice turned out to be less important and wealthy than she hoped.
Helene found Emily Barton easy to talk to, because she seemed genuinely interested in hearing about Helene’s life. She was attractive and Helene thought she could have been lovely had she dressed her hair less severely. Her voice was soft, musical and her laugh was infectious. However, she revealed almost nothing of herself, allowing Helene to talk without interruption.
Helene did not know how it was, but she found herself confiding in her new friend about the climbing boy she had rescued from his cruel master.
‘He was beating poor Ned,’ she said. ‘I made him stop and sent him away. He said I must pay ten guineas, but in the end Jethro made him take two. I think he would not have been pleased, but he made his mark to show that the boy was no longer his property. I think Jethro may have threatened him, though of course he said nothing of it to me.’
‘How brave you were to stand up to him,’ Emily said, her blue-green eyes seemingly intent on Helene’s face. ‘It must have been frightening, for he might have attacked you.’
‘He might,’ Helene admitted with a little shudder. ‘To be honest, I did not consider the possibility. I just ordered him to desist and—fortunately, he did.’
‘Yes, I see…’ Emily smiled. ‘It is a sad thing when a child can be bought and sold for a few guineas is it not?’
‘Yes, it is,’ Helene said and her eyes caught with an inner fire that was not often present when in polite company. ‘If I were wealthy, I should open a school for orphan boys and feed them on good wholesome food so that they grow strong and healthy. It breaks my heart to see children with rickets or sores on their faces, because they do not get the proper diet. So many of them die before they reach maturity.’
Emily nodded. ‘I can see that you have put a deal of thought into the matter. The situation is even worse in town than in the country, you know. There are areas where the filth runs in the gutters and the inhabitants are for ever ill with some dread fever. Some of them spend their lives drinking gin to deaden the pain of hunger and hopelessness.’
Helene’s eyes brimmed with tears. ‘I have heard of these places and wish with all my heart that I could do something for them…’
‘Amelia does,’ Emily told her and smiled. ‘This winter she set up a school and a home for orphans—not just boys, girls as well. I have not been to visit yet, though I intend to quite soon.’ She arched her brows at Helene. ‘Perhaps you would care to accompany me? Amelia visited yesterday. She said it was heartbreaking to see the new cases, but that the ones who had been with the school for some months were a joy to behold, for they had grown strong and were gaining an education for themselves.’
‘Oh, yes, I should like it above all things—may we go tomorrow?’ Helene’s face lit with eagerness. ‘It is just the sort of thing I should do if I were rich!’
Emily smiled and shook her head. ‘Amelia has many things planned for you, Miss Henderson. You must be properly dressed, you know. In a week or so, when things have quietened a little, we may choose our opportunity to slip away one morning.’
Helene wanted to protest—of what importance were fancy clothes when there was so much poverty in the world? However, she held back the words. There would be chances enough for her to discover more of what interested her. She must not forget her duty to Mama or her sense of obligation to Miss Royston. It was obvious from what Emily had told her that her hostess was a generous woman, not only to herself but to deserving cases, and therefore deserved the utmost respect and consideration.
‘How long have you lived with Miss Royston?’ she inquired.
‘Oh, a little over nine months,’ Emily replied. ‘She is the kindest employer I could wish for and the best of friends.’
‘I see…’ Helene frowned. ‘Is she the first lady you have worked for—or is it impolite of me to ask?’
‘Not at all,’ Emily said and her eyes clouded with sadness. ‘I looked after my mother for some years after my father’s death. Papa was…an intolerant man and he made Mama’s life uneasy. She became an invalid some years earlier. When she died, I found myself with little money, for my father’s estate went to his nephew. I…was forced to find work, but I was very fortunate—I have little to do but enjoy myself here. Amelia makes few requests of me. All she really needs is someone to keep her company.’
‘Yes, I see.’ Helene nodded. Emily’s warm affection for her employer was further evidence of Miss Royston’s goodness. Helene’s sense of obligation deepened. She must take care to please Amelia in any little way she could, because it would be rude to do anything else, and she had been properly brought up. ‘You must tell me if there is anything I can do to make myself useful to you or Miss Royston.’
‘I am sure Amelia only wishes to see you happy. She has the kindest heart, though she can be stubborn when she chooses,’ Emily said and shook her head as Helene raised her brows in enquiry. ‘Now, if you are ready, perhaps I may show you to your room?’
‘Thank you so much,’ Helene said and stood up. She nodded to her mother and Amelia as they went out into the hall. She was a little in awe of Miss Royston, because of her goodness and generosity, and she was glad of Emily’s presence. ‘I should very much like it if we could be friends?’ she said with a shy glance at the older woman. ‘If you would like it, too?’
‘Certainly I should,’ Emily assured her with a smile. ‘I can see that you are a lady who thinks of others and that is something I admire…’ For a moment that flash of sadness was in Emily’s eyes again and Helene wondered what secret sorrow she held inside. However, she would not presume to ask, for she believed that people told you things when they had learned to trust you, and Emily did not yet know her. ‘Now, we must talk of other things.’
‘What kind of things?’ Helene asked.
‘Amelia has asked me to show you the house, and to tell you how we go on here. You are to have your own maid while you stay here, Helene. I know your mama has brought her own maid, but you will have one all to yourself. Tilly is a skilled needlewoman and she can dress your hair as well as look after your clothes. She has already unpacked your trunks and will have pressed a gown for you for this evening. Amelia has no guests for this evening. She thought we should all get to know each other, and we shall do that better by ourselves.’
‘Yes, that is a good idea,’ Helene agreed. ‘I think we shall be friends, Emily—but I must admit I feel a little in awe of Miss Royston.’
‘You must not,’ Emily told her. ‘She would not wish it. You are not the first young lady she has helped. Last season she brought Miss Susannah Hampton to town. Susannah is now Lady Pendleton. We visited Pendleton at Christmas and she seemed very happy. I do not think you will meet her in town, for she is in a delicate situation—she is to have her husband’s child this summer, I understand.’
‘Oh…she must be pleased,’ Helene said, her cheeks warm. ‘How fortunate for her.’
‘Susannah is very happy,’ Emily told her. ‘She fell in love with Lord Pendleton and he with her. It was a love match—and they might never have met had it not been for Amelia.’
‘That is indeed fortunate. I am not sure that I shall ever truly fall in love, but I must marry if a respectable gentleman should offer for me. It is my duty to Mama.’
‘Well, perhaps,’ Emily said and something odd flickered in her eyes. ‘I think you are very pretty, Helene. I am sure you will have a great many offers. You will not be forced to take the first man who asks for you.’
Helene looked at her curiously. She would have liked to ask Emily what she thought of marriage, but she did not yet know her well enough. Besides, she suspected that Emily had no money of her own. Helene knew that without the dowry Miss Royston had given her, she would have been unlikely to find a husband. Perhaps that was why Emily looked so sad. Helene hoped that one day Emily might like her enough to confide in her, but for the moment she would not ask.
The next morning was entirely taken up with the visit from the seamstress and her young assistant. At first Helene felt a little nervous about giving her opinions, for she was very conscious of the fact that this must be costing a great deal. However, when she discovered that Emily was also being fitted for a new wardrobe, she lost most of her inhibitions. She found it easy to confer with Emily, to discuss styles, colours and quality, and also quantity—though she found it a little shocking when she discovered just how many new gowns were considered necessary.
‘Shall I really need so many?’ she asked, for she could not help thinking that some of the money could be put to better use. ‘I already have four evening dresses I brought with me.’
‘They are very pretty and quite suitable for when we dine at home,’ Emily told her and smiled as she saw Helene’s doubtful look. ‘I felt as you do when I first came to live with Amelia—but she has so many friends. We are invited everywhere, you know. You cannot be for ever wearing the same gown, Helene. You would not wish to appear dowdy? No, of course not. Now do look at this green silk. It would be perfect for your colouring—do you not think so, Madame Dubois?’
‘Oui, of a certainty,’ the Frenchwoman exclaimed. ‘It will look well for an afternoon gown, but the young lady should wear white for evenings. White and simple will be perfect for one so young and beautiful.’
Helene held the shimmering white material to herself, glancing in the mirror. She felt that white was a little insipid for her, but hardly liked to protest. However, Emily shook her head.
‘I cannot agree, madame,’ she said. ‘I believe Helene would look better in colours—that pale blue and the yellow…and perhaps that very pale pink with a deeper cerise trim.’
The seamstress pulled a face. ‘Very pretty, but the petite is so young…’
‘I think I agree with Emily,’ Amelia said as Emily draped the yellow and blue materials against Helene. ‘White is necessary if you are presented, Helene, my dear, but I am not sure that your mama wishes for a court presentation.’
‘I think that might be better left for the future,’ Mrs Henderson said and looked thoughtful. ‘I was never presented at court even after my marriage. I doubt that Helene will be, either.’
‘Oh, no, Mama, I am sure it is not necessary,’ Helene assured her. Since she had no intention of marrying into the aristocracy, it would be a waste of money to invest in such elaborate gowns.
‘Well, we shall see what happens,’ Amelia said. ‘We can always order a court gown if it seems likely that someone will offer to present you, Helene.’
‘I am sure they will not,’ Helene said. ‘I am quite content with the gowns I already have, thank you.’
‘How many have you ordered?’ Amelia inquired of the seamstress and shook her head as she was told. ‘That is not enough. I think you should have an evening gown made of this straw satin as well—and I think a ballgown in this beautiful peach silk, Helene. Hold it against you and look in the mirror. It is perfect for you, my dear.’
Not content with that, Amelia ordered two further morning gowns, two afternoon gowns and a riding habit in dark blue velvet. Helene felt overwhelmed—she had never owned so many gowns. She was relieved to see that Emily was also pressed to order more gowns.
‘Well, I think that will do for now,’ Amelia said. ‘When can you deliver the first gowns, Madame Dubois? The very first should be the peach gown for Miss Henderson, please. Emily and I may wait a few days.’
The seamstress promised to have several gowns delivered by the end of the week, and the peach gown in two days.
‘That is perfect,’ Amelia said after she had gone. ‘We have been invited to a prestigious dance that evening. Helene will need her new gown. We shall have to shop for some spangles tomorrow. A pretty stole and some dancing shoes to complement your gown, my dear. You might like to take Helene shopping, Emily? You know all the best shops and can show her what is usually worn at these affairs.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Emily said. ‘Would you care to accompany us, Mrs Henderson?’
‘As it happens, I have agreed to accompany Amelia somewhere,’ Mrs Henderson said. ‘You two go and enjoy yourselves.’
‘I had planned to visit the lending library this afternoon,’ Emily said and looked at Helene. ‘Would you like to come?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Helene agreed. ‘Unless Amelia needs me for anything?’
‘No, I do not think so,’ Amelia said. ‘I am at home this afternoon. You must not stay out too long, for I am sure we shall have several callers and they will want to meet Helene.’
‘It will take no more than an hour,’ Emily assured her. ‘A walk to the library and back will be quite uneventful. We shall be back in plenty of time for tea.’
‘Then do go, my love,’ Amelia said. ‘It will be pleasant for Helene to see something of the town, and you may meet with some friends.’
‘You may bring a book for me, Helene,’ her mama told her. ‘It is so nice to have the opportunity of borrowing new books. Edgar had very little of interest in his library at home.’
‘Emily—look!’ Helene grabbed hold of her arm as they were returning from the library. ‘Do you see that man over there? He is beating that poor donkey with a stick. Oh, how wicked! It is obvious the creature is exhausted and can go no further…’
Helene had been holding Emily’s arm, but she broke away from her and ran across the road to where a man dressed in filthy rags was trying to force a donkey to continue pulling the heavy wagon. The wagon was piled high with all kinds of rags, discarded furniture and metal pots. The donkey was scarcely more than skin and bone and exhausted. Its owner had lifted his arm to beat the unfortunate beast once more when a whirling fury grabbed hold of him, holding on to his arm and preventing him from carrying out his intention.
‘You wicked, wicked man!’ Helene cried. ‘Can’t you see the poor creature is exhausted? If you force it to go on, you will kill it…’
The man tried to throw her off, but Helene held on, struggling to catch hold of the stick and wrench it from his grasp. She was determined not to let go even though he was much stronger than she and obviously possessed of a nasty temper.
‘Damn you, wench,’ the man snarled. ‘Leave me be or it will be the worse for you!’ He managed to pull his arm free of her grasp and raised it again, intending, it seemed, to beat her instead of the donkey.
‘No, you don’t, sirrah!’ a man’s deep voice cried and the bully’s arm was caught, this time in a grip of steel. The vagabond growled and tried to free himself, but ended with his arm up against his back, his chest pressed against the side of the wagon. ‘If you do not want your arm broken, stop struggling.’
‘Let me be,’ the vagabond whined. ‘She attacked me, sir. I were only defending meself.’
‘Be quiet, rogue, or I’ll break your neck,’ the man commanded. His eyes moved to Helene. ‘Would you like to tell me what happened here, miss?’
‘He was beating that poor creature,’ Helene said. ‘You can see for yourself that it is half-starved—and that load is far too heavy. The poor beast is too exhausted to pull the cart another inch.’
‘Did you attack him?’ The man arched his brows.
‘I tried to stop him beating the donkey.’ Helene lifted her head proudly, refusing to be ashamed of her action.
‘I see…’ Max released the vagabond, turned him round and glared down at him. The vagabond opened his mouth, then shut it again. The newcomer was a gentleman and a rather large one, his expression threatening. ‘What have you to say for yourself, rogue?’
‘The stupid beast is useless. It is lazy and a worthless bag of bones. I have to beat it or it will not move.’
‘It might work better if you fed it occasionally,’ Lord Maximus Coleridge said wryly. ‘Here, take this in exchange for the animal and be off with you before I call the watch!’ He thrust a handful of gold coins at his victim. The vagabond stared at the money in astonishment, bit one of the coins to make sure it really was gold and then took off as fast as he could before the mad gentleman could change his mind.
‘That was too much. One of those coins must have been sufficient,’ Helene protested as the large gentleman began to undo the donkey’s harness, freeing it from its burden. She patted the donkey’s nose. ‘The poor thing. It must have had a terrible life.’
‘Yes, I dare say,’ Max said and frowned. He arched his eyebrows in enquiry. ‘What do you propose we should do with it now?’
‘Oh…’ Helene stared at him. ‘I am not sure, sir. The poor creature needs a good home and something to eat. It looks quite starved.’
‘I wonder if it would not be kinder to put a ball through its head and end its misery.’
‘No! You must not,’ Helene cried and then blushed as his dark grey eyes centred on her face. She thought him an extremely attractive man, large and powerful, and, it seemed, exactly the kind of man one could rely on in an emergency. ‘I mean…could you not have it taken to a stable? At least give this unfortunate beast a chance to recover…please?’
‘Helene…’ Emily had waited for her chance to cross the road. ‘Are you all right, my dear? I would have come sooner, but there was a press of carriages.’
‘Because we are blocking the road,’ Max said wryly. ‘Good afternoon, Miss Barton. I did not know that you were in town. I trust you are well—and Miss Royston?’
‘Lord Coleridge,’ Emily said and dipped in a slight curtsy. ‘We are both well. May I introduce Miss Henderson? Helene—Lord Coleridge. Helene and her mama are staying with us this Season, sir.’
‘My compliments to Miss Royston. I shall call,’ Max Coleridge said and turned his gaze back to Helene. ‘So, Miss Henderson—what do you suggest?’ He saw the pleading in her eyes. ‘I hope you are not suggesting that this flea-ridden beast should rub shoulders with my cattle…’
‘Could you not find a small corner for him in your stables, sir?’
‘Oh, no.’ Max shook his head. He turned his head and signalled to someone. A youth of perhaps fourteen years came running. ‘Jemmy, this lady wants us to take care of this donkey—what do you suggest we do with him?’
‘Sell ’im to the knacker’s yard, sir?’ the youth said and grinned.
‘Much as I think you may be right, I find myself unable to agree,’ Max replied, a twinkle in his eye. ‘I think you should take charge of him, Jemmy. I dare say we could find a corner for him somewhere.’
‘That bag of bones? You’re bamming me, milord,’ Jemmy said, staring at him in horror. ‘We’ll be the laughing stock of the ton, sir.’
‘I dare say,’ Max replied. ‘However, I do not intend to drive the wretched beast. Once it has recovered—if it recovers—we may find a better home. I shall make inquiries.’
‘You want me to get that thing ’ome?’ Jemmy was clearly horrified. ‘I dunno as it will move, sir.’
‘Do your best, Jemmy. I fear we are holding up the traffic.’ Max gave Helene a direct look. ‘I believe we should move out of the road—do you not think so?’
‘But the donkey…’ Helene moved on to the path, joining Emily and Lord Coleridge. Jemmy was trying to get the donkey to move without success. ‘I think you need a bribe.’ She saw a barrow boy selling vegetables and darted back across the road to buy a carrot from him. It was rather wrinkled and past its best, but she thought the donkey would be hungry enough to be tempted. She paused for a moment and then dodged between a cart and a man leading a horse, narrowly avoiding being run over by a coal cart. ‘Try tempting him forward with this.’ She handed her prize to the lad.
‘Give it ’ere, miss. I’ll have a go.’ Jemmy held the carrot under the donkey’s nose. It snickered and then made a loud noise, trying to grab the food and succeeding. ‘Blimey! He snatched it…’Jemmy’s mouth fell open.
He looked so astonished that Lord Coleridge gave a shout of laughter. He tossed the lad a gold coin. ‘I think you need to buy a large supply of treats,’ he said. ‘Be more careful next time.’
Jemmy caught the coin and started over the road. The donkey made an ear-shattering noise and trotted over the road after him. Discovering that there were many more carrots on the stall, it snatched another, and when the barrow boy yelled in anger, took off down the road at a run, Jemmy in hot pursuit.
‘Not quite as exhausted as we thought,’ Max said, highly amused. Helene stared at him indignantly as he laughed. He sobered as he caught the look in her eye. ‘Forgive me, Miss Henderson, but you have to admit that it was funny.’
‘Yes, it was,’ she said and the laughter suddenly bubbled up inside her. ‘Oh, dear, it seems I have cost you a great deal of money and a lot of trouble for nothing.’
‘Oh, no,’ Max told her. ‘To see that donkey with Jemmy in pursuit was worth far more than a few guineas, Miss Henderson. I do not know how he will live it down. I can only hope that my eloquence will be enough to retain his services—he may feel that he can no longer work for such a ramshackle fellow as myself.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘My groom awaits me patiently. Ladies—may I take you up in my curricle?’
‘Thank you, but we shall walk for the house is not far away,’ Helene said before Emily could reply. ‘It was kind of you to help us, sir—but we shall take up no more of your time.’
Max lifted his hat, his eyes bright with amusement. ‘I shall see you another day, Miss Henderson. If you manage to avoid being run over by carts or attacked by rogues, of course. Good afternoon.’
Helene watched him walk away. She turned to Emily, looking thoughtful. ‘He was very kind. I am not sure what would have happened if he had not come along just then. However, he seems to be one of those gentlemen who takes nothing seriously.’
‘I am sure you misjudge him. Lord Coleridge is fond of a jest, but quite a gentleman. You might have been in some danger,’ Emily told her. ‘That rogue would have hit you if he could. It was a little reckless of you, Helene.’
‘Yes, I know. My uncle has warned me of my impulsive nature—but I cannot abide cruelty, Emily.’
‘No, I see that you cannot,’ Emily said and gave her a look of approval. ‘Well, you were impulsive, Helene—but no harm came of it.’
‘No…’ Helene said, but she was thoughtful. She had rather liked the large gentleman, despite his tendency to levity—but whatever must he think of her?
Chapter Two
Amelia glanced through the pile of cards on the silver salver in the hall when they all returned from an outing the following afternoon. She looked pleased as she mentioned one or two names, and then frowned as she came to the last one. Her housekeeper was hovering near by and she beckoned to her.
‘When did Lord Coleridge call, Mrs Becks?’
‘Just after you all went out, Miss Royston.’
‘Was he alone?’
‘Yes, miss. I believe so. Is something wrong?’
‘Oh…no,’ Amelia said, but she still looked slightly bothered about something as she took off her hat and handed it to Mrs Becks. ‘I was just a little surprised that he should call. He is Lord Pendleton’s friend rather than mine.’
‘Do you not approve of Lord Coleridge?’ Helene asked as she followed Amelia into the small parlour, which they used when not entertaining. ‘He seemed very pleasant when he…when we met yesterday.’
‘You met yesterday?’ Amelia glanced at her, surprised. ‘You did not mention it, Helene. Are you acquainted with Lord Coleridge?’
‘Oh, no,’ Helene said and blushed. ‘I suppose I ought to have told you about the incident, but there were visitors when Emily and I returned—’ She broke off and blushed, for during the night she had lain awake, remembering her impulsive behaviour, and shuddering at the thought of what might have happened if Lord Coleridge had not come to her rescue. ‘I hope you will not censure me…’ She repeated what had occurred and was rendered a little anxious when Amelia frowned. ‘I know it was impulsive, and perhaps I ought not to have done it, but I cannot abide cruelty.’
‘No, nor can I,’ Amelia said and looked serious. ‘I would not recommend such behaviour, Helene, for if Lord Coleridge had not happened to be passing you might have been in some trouble. Also, your behaviour might be censured by some in society, though not by me. I can understand your feelings, my dear, though I would urge caution for your own sake.’
‘I am sorry if I have displeased you.’ Helene looked at her anxiously. ‘You will not mention it to Mama, please?’
‘No, of course not. And you have not displeased me,’ Amelia told her. ‘At least it explains why Lord Coleridge called this afternoon. No doubt he wanted to inquire after you, to make sure you had suffered no harm.’
‘That was kind of him, was it not?’
‘Yes, though I should be a little careful of becoming too friendly with that gentleman.’ Amelia shook her head, an odd expression in her eyes. ‘No, forget I said that, Helene. He is perfectly respectable…and it was a long time ago. I should not have said anything.’
Helene would have asked her to explain further, but her mother, who had gone straight upstairs earlier, now entered the room and looked at her. ‘Have you decided which dress you will wear this evening, my dearest? It is a soirée, so you will need one of your new gowns that we brought with us. I thought the pale green satin might look well—especially with the gloves and slippers you bought this morning.’
‘Yes, Mama,’ Helene said. ‘I think the green is perhaps the nicest of the gowns we brought with us.’
‘It will be very suitable for this evening,’ Amelia said. ‘Lady Marsh’s affair is quite small, but she is a particular friend and knows all the best people. We are fortunate to be invited to one of her musical evenings. You will meet some new acquaintances, which will make things easier for you tomorrow at the dance. You do not want to be sitting with your mama when the dancing begins, for everyone hates to be a wallflower.’
Helene smiled and thanked her. Amelia had warned her of becoming too friendly with Lord Coleridge, though she had immediately retracted her words. What had been in her mind? Despite her retraction, and her assurance that Lord Coleridge was perfectly respectable, Helene suspected that she either did not like or did not approve of Lord Coleridge. Why? What had he done that had made her feel it would be better if Helene did not form a friendship with him?
As Helene went up to change for the evening she was still pondering the question. She had liked Lord Coleridge. He had come to her rescue and dealt swiftly and firmly with what might have been an awkward situation, but, more than that, she had responded to his sense of humour and the twinkle in his eyes. However, on reflection, she recalled that he was a member of the aristocracy and perhaps it would be best to put the small incident from her mind. It would not suit her to marry a gentleman who had no idea of the value of money and wasted his blunt when it might be put to good use. Her mother had been slighted and ill used by Papa’s family and Helene did not wish for something similar to happen to her. She would do much better with a gentleman of moderate fortune who thought as she did about the important things of life.
She was a thoughtful girl and was sensible of the fact that she owed her chance to enter society entirely to Miss Royston. Without Amelia’s generosity, she would never have been given a Season in London. Rather than offend her hostess, she would try to avoid Lord Coleridge’s company as much as possible, though of course she would speak to him when they met. He had done her a service and mere politeness demanded that she thank him at least once more. However, it was more than likely that she would not often meet him. He was a titled gentleman and she did not suppose that he would be in the least interested in a country nobody. Nor indeed was she interested in anything more than a nodding acquaintance with a man like him!
‘Max!’ a voice hailed him loudly from across the road as he was about to enter his sporting club. Max turned and looked round; he grinned as he saw the younger man approaching on foot. ‘I am glad to have caught you. I am just this day come to town. Harry sent me to look at some decent cattle he heard of and I think they are just what I need. I wondered if you would give me the benefit of your advice in the morning?’
‘Toby Sinclair…’ Max clapped him on the shoulder. ‘The newest member of the Four-in-Hand. So Harry put you on the right track, did he? Your uncle is one of the best judges of horseflesh I know. I doubt you need my advice.’
‘I should like it none the less,’ Toby said. ‘I have no engagements in town as yet.’
‘Ah…’ Max nodded, looked thoughtful, then, ‘I am promised to Lady Marsh this evening. I think you know my great-aunt Edith? I am certain she would welcome you.’
‘Thank you,’ Toby said, his eyes lighting up. ‘I could have spent the evening at a gaming hell, but I’ve just accepted an offer from Harry to join him in a business venture and I am trying not too waste too much blunt at the tables.’
‘Sensible,’ Max said and frowned. ‘I happened to see Northaven this morning. I was surprised to see him back in town after what happened at Pendleton last year. He would have done better to take himself off abroad as Harry bid him.’
‘I dare say his pride would not let him.’
‘I dare say you are right.’
‘I have wondered if it was Northaven who attempted to kidnap Amelia Royston in Pendleton woods last summer,’ Toby said. ‘If, indeed, it was an attempt to snatch her and not merely a botched robbery?’
‘Ravenshead has his own ideas on the subject,’ Max said and looked thoughtful. ‘Miss Royston is in town, you know. She has some friends staying—Mrs Henderson and her daughter Helene.’
‘Really? I must call tomorrow,’ Toby said. He looked round as they entered the sporting club together. ‘Are you going to box or fence today?’
‘I thought to see who was here,’ Max said. ‘Do you fancy yourself with the foils, Sinclair?’
‘Well, I’m not sure I’m up to your mark, Coleridge,’ Toby said and grinned. ‘But I’m game if you are?’
‘Delighted,’ Max said and clapped him on the back. ‘Tell you the truth, I’ve been missing Harry and Gerard. Harry invited me down to Pendleton, and I may go in a few weeks, but I have not heard a word from Ravenshead since he went to France. I am not certain he intends to return.’
‘Oh, I think he may,’ Toby said. ‘Susannah told me that he had written to Harry. He has been delayed, but he has engaged an English nanny for his daughter and I think he will open the house at Ravenshead in another month or so.’
‘Ah, that is good news. I dare say he may visit with Harry and Susannah for a while, and I shall certainly go down at the end of the Season.’ Unless he found a lady to propose to in the meantime, Max thought. He said nothing of his plans to take a wife, which had been forming slowly for a while.
He did not know why he had not married sooner—he wished to have children, and not simply because he needed an heir for his estate. Max had been an only child after his younger brother died in childhood. He had joined the army more out of a desire for companionship than a wish to be a soldier and had formed some strong friendships. However, Harry Pendleton’s marriage to a spirited young girl, and Gerard’s absence in France, had made him aware that his life was empty.
If he could find a girl who would put up with him—one he could feel comfortable with on a daily basis—he might decide to settle down quite soon. Max was not sure whether or not he needed to love the girl. Perhaps that was not necessary for a marriage of convenience. Affection and compatibility was possibly more important? He did not think that he could put up with a simpering miss who was interested only in her new gown or some fresh trinket, though he could afford to indulge his wife with all the trinkets she required. A little smile touched his mouth as he recalled the girl and the donkey. Now Helene certainly had spirit and her indignant look had made him smile…
Helene glanced at herself in the cheval mirror. Her gown was not as stylish as some Amelia wore, but, caught high under the bust with a band of embroidery, it became her well. She had added a new spangled stole and some long white gloves and white slippers. Her dark brown hair was dressed simply in a knot at the back of her head, fastened with pearl pins, and she wore a string of pearls about her throat. They had belonged to her father’s grandmother, so she had been told, and were the only jewellery she possessed, apart from a matching pair of earbobs.
A knock at the door announced a visitor. Helene had dismissed her maid once she was ready, and called out that whoever it was might enter. She smiled as the door opened and Emily entered. She was wearing a dark blue gown, very simple in design, but of quality silk and cut most elegantly.
‘You look lovely,’ Helene exclaimed. ‘I like you in blue, Emily. I do not know why you do not wear it more often.’
‘Amelia has been trying to wean me from grey for a long time,’ Emily said. ‘I am particularly fond of blue, but I used to think it was not a suitable colour for a companion.’
‘Amelia does not think of you in that way,’ Helene assured her. Her face was thoughtful as she studied the other woman. Emily looked much younger now that she had abandoned her habitual grey. ‘I believe she values you as a friend.’
‘Yes, she has told me so many times,’ Emily agreed. For a moment she looked sad, but it passed and she was smiling again. ‘You are beautiful, Helene. That dress becomes you.’
‘Thank you.’ Helene glanced at her reflection once more. ‘It is not as stylish as your gown, or those we have ordered, I dare say—but I do not think I shall disgrace Amelia this evening.’
‘I am very certain you will not,’ Emily said and laughed softly. ‘You look everything you ought, Helene. I was sent to see if you were ready—shall we go down?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Helene said. ‘I am a little nervous about this evening. It is my first outing into London society and I am not sure what to expect.’
‘That is why Amelia chose carefully for you,’ Emily said. ‘I am sure everyone will approve of you, Helene, for your manners are good and you think before you speak—and I think you will like Lady Marsh, who is your hostess this evening, for she is very kind. She is Lord Coleridge’s great-aunt on his father’s side. She has been kind to me even though I am just a companion.’
‘You are a lady, anyone can see that,’ Helene said. ‘Being a companion does not make you any the less respectable, Emily.’
Emily laughed. ‘That is not always the opinion of everyone, Helene—but I am very fortunate to have Amelia as my employer. She is respected everywhere. Because of her kindness I have been accepted by most—and you will be, too, Helene.’
‘Thank you, I feel a little better now. Shall we go?’
Helene’s nerves returned when they alighted from the carriage and walked along the carpet that had been laid on the ground outside the large house to protect the ladies from getting their gowns soiled. Lanterns were being held for them by linkboys, and the carriage had been obliged to queue when they first arrived—and this was supposed to be a modest affair! Helene was glad of Emily’s company as they walked into the house together. They were greeted first by their hostess. Lady Marsh was a small plump lady of perhaps sixty years, dressed in a purple gown and a gold turban, and she kept them talking for a moment before allowing them to pass on to the reception rooms.
The first elegant salon was half-empty, a mere half a dozen couples standing around, talking and greeting each other. Amelia smiled and greeted two ladies, who lifted their hands in welcome as they entered. She introduced Mrs Henderson and Helene.
‘Lady Renton, Lady Jamieson,’ she said, ‘may I make you known to some good friends who have come to stay with me for a while—Mrs Henderson, and Miss Helene Henderson…and, of course, you know my dearest Emily.’
Helene felt herself being scrutinised. She dipped a respectful curtsy, wondering if she were being approved. Lady Renton seemed a little aloof in her manner, as if reserving judgement, though Lady Jamieson was friendly enough. Helene was relieved as they passed on to the next group of two ladies and a gentleman.
‘Miss Royston, I am pleased to see you here,’ the gentleman said and then looked at Helene, one eyebrow raised in expectation.
‘Mr Bradwell,’ Amelia said. ‘Mrs Bradwell, Miss Bradwell…may I present my friends—Mrs Henderson and Miss Helene Henderson…Mr Nicholas Bradwell and his mama and sister.’
‘Charming, quite charming,’ Nicholas Bradwell said and inclined his head. ‘I am happy to make your acquaintance, ma’am—Miss Henderson.’ His eyes had fixed on Helene’s face. ‘Tell me, do you enjoy music, Miss Henderson?’
‘Yes, sir, I like it very well.’
‘And do you play an instrument yourself perhaps?’
‘Yes, sir. I play the pianoforte, though I cannot profess to be accomplished.’
‘Helene, you are too modest,’ Mrs Henderson said and gave her a reproving look. ‘My daughter plays very well, sir. I have heard her spoken of as talented, but she does not like to say so herself.’
‘A truly modest young lady.’ Nicholas Bradwell looked at her and nodded. He was a gentleman of perhaps forty years or so. Of medium height and slim build, he was dressed fashionably, his hair cut short and brushed back from his forehead, the wings sprinkled with grey. ‘Perhaps you would let me take you in, Miss Henderson? I shall make you known to your fellow guests.’
Helene glanced at her mother, who nodded her consent. Feeling her stomach tighten with nerves, Helene laid her hand on his arm and allowed him to draw her into the next reception room. Here it was more crowded, and most of the chairs and sofas were occupied. Helene saw that it was here that the musical entertainment would be given a little later.
‘Shall we reserve that sofa?’ Nicholas Bradwell asked, gesturing towards one that was still unoccupied. ‘I shall sit with you and give up my seat when your mama comes.’
‘If you wish, sir,’ Helene said and glanced round, feeling uncomfortable. He had promised to introduce her, but now seemed bent on reserving her company to himself. She did not mind it for he was not unattractive and she felt at home with him. He reminded her of her uncle’s friends, gentlemen who had treated her kindly in the past. ‘Though if older ladies are standing, I should perhaps give up my seat.’
‘I dare say some of the gentlemen will repair to the card room when the music begins,’ Nicholas Bradwell told her with a smile. ‘I myself came for the music. We have a fine tenor to entertain us this evening. He is Italian, you know, and I think his voice one of the best I have heard. However, many of the younger gentlemen will no doubt find their way to the tables before long. Some of them have no ear.’
‘Oh…’ Helene was not sure what to say. Her cheeks had heated slightly because she had noticed two gentlemen enter the salon together—and one of them was Lord Coleridge. ‘I thought everyone would wish to hear Signor Manzini…’ She drew her breath in as she saw that Lord Coleridge was walking towards them. She looked down at her lap, her hands clasped as he bowed before them.
‘Miss Henderson, I am delighted to see you this evening. Bradwell—good to see you here, sir. I heard that you had been unwell.’
Helene sensed the tension in the gentleman beside her. She had a feeling that he resented the interruption and risked a glance at him. A tiny pulse was beating at his temple.
‘It was a mere chill,’ Nicholas Bradwell replied. ‘I may call on you in a day or so to settle the little matter between us.’
‘Whenever you wish, there is no need for haste, sir,’ Max said and smiled at Helene. ‘I hope you suffered no ill effects of your experience the other day, Miss Henderson. I have to tell you that Jemmy is doing very well with his charge, though we have not as yet found Jezra a new home.’
‘Jezra?’ Helene’s gaze flew to his face. She saw the laughter lurking in his eyes. ‘You have given that poor creature a name? Do you expect him to recover? I know that you were uncertain of it.’
‘I believe Jezra is tougher than we all imagined,’ Max told her. ‘He is gaining weight and I am reliably informed that with the proper treatment his appearance will improve—though whether my credit will survive his arrival I do not know.’
‘Yes, I did hear that you had a donkey in your stable,’ Nicholas Bradwell said, a smirk on his lips. ‘Not quite in your style, Coleridge?’
‘Oh, the creature grows on one, you know,’ Max replied carelessly. ‘I dare say it might do to pull the children of my head groom in a cart, in the country, you know—once it has recovered its strength, of course.’
‘A children’s pet,’ Helene nodded, her expression thoughtful. ‘It is the very thing, sir. You are good to consider it.’
‘It was a matter of finding somewhere for Jezra to go before he quite destroys my reputation,’ Max replied in a casual manner. ‘Jemmy told me that he considered leaving me for Lord Carrington’s employ, but he considers that I am fractionally the better whip and has decided to give me another chance. So I must count myself fortunate…’
‘That tiger of yours is a deal too free in his manners,’ Nicholas Bradwell said sourly. ‘If a stable lad spoke to me in that way, I should instantly dismiss him.’
‘Should you, Bradwell?’ Max arched his brow. He was very much the aristocrat in that moment, almost arrogant, his expression unreadable. ‘I must advise him not to offer his services to you should he decide that I am beneath his touch, which he may yet do. I confess that I should be devastated should he take himself off.’
‘You are a wit, sir.’ Bradwell glared at him. ‘Forgive me if I do not see merit in such levity.’ He glanced at Helene, his mouth pulled into a grim smile. ‘You must excuse me for a moment, Miss Henderson. I have seen someone I must speak to.’
‘Oh, dear…’ Max glanced after him, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. ‘I fear I have upset that gentleman. I am sorry to have lost you your admirer, Miss Henderson.’
‘Do not be ridiculous, sir! I have only just met Mr Bradwell. I assure you that he is not my admirer.’
‘But he will undoubtedly become so,’ Max said and nodded. ‘I believe you have made a conquest—the first of many, no doubt.’
‘I doubt it very much, sir.’ Helene shook her head at him. ‘Please, make me no empty compliments, for I do not care for them. I know you were funning just now, but pray tell me why you called that creature Jezra?’
‘Jemmy said he should be called Jezebel, for his temperament is uncertain to say the least—sly and devilish, my groom described him as. I explained that Jezebel was a female, and so we settled on Jezra. I hope the name meets with your approval?’
‘My approval is not necessary, but I find it apt,’ Helene said. His humour was infectious, though she did wish that he might be serious for a moment. ‘Shall you truly send Jezra to the country? I thought you might give the beast to someone.’
‘I could not be certain the poor beast would not be beaten and starved again,’ Max told her. His eyes seemed to be warm and approving as they surveyed her. ‘Having given Jezra a taste of what life can be like when there is a warm stable and food, I do not think it fair to abandon him. Besides, I think that would have earned me your disapproval, Miss Henderson.’
‘I should have been sad had the creature gone to a cruel master, for I cannot abide cruelty,’ Helene told him. ‘But I have no right to approve or disapprove of what you do, sir.’
‘Do you not?’ Max looked thoughtful. ‘Be that as it may, I would rather have your good opinion—’ He broke off as her mother came up to them. ‘I am remiss. I have not introduced Toby to you, Miss Henderson—Toby Sinclair, Miss Helene Henderson.’ He smiled at the older lady as the two exchanged greetings. ‘Ma’am, we met earlier when we arrived. Pray take your seat. Toby and I are on our way to the card room. Please excuse us.’
Mrs Henderson sat down as he walked away. She frowned at her daughter. ‘I suppose Mr Bradwell introduced you. Lord Coleridge is a pleasant enough gentleman, but above our touch, Helene. I heard that he may be looking for a wife, but I dare say he will look higher. Someone said that he has been paying attention to Miss Fitzherbert. She is an heiress of some note, though not present this evening. I would not advise you to think of that gentleman as a husband, Helene. Remember my experiences. I should not wish you to be slighted by his family as I was by your papa’s.’
‘Mama! I was not setting my cap at him,’ Helene said and blushed. ‘We were merely talking. Besides, you know that I would never forget the way you were treated.’
‘You seemed almost on intimate terms with him,’ her mother remarked. ‘I have seldom seen you look so animated in company, Helene. I dare say he would be a good catch if you could get him, but I think we must set our sights lower, my love. Mr Bradwell is of far less consequence, but I believe him to be quite warm—not an old name and fortune like Coleridge, of course. Mr Bradwell was once married, I am told, but his wife unfortunately died of a fever without giving him an heir. I feel certain that he must be looking to settle his nursery, for he is past forty. He would be a good match for you, my love.’
‘Mama, please do not,’ Helene begged, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. ‘Supposing someone were to hear? I am very certain Mr Bradwell has no such notion, at least as far as I am concerned.’
‘Well, he seemed taken,’ her mother said. ‘Not that there is any hurry, for this is your first evening affair…and now we should be silent for the music is about to begin.’
Helene was tempted to remind her that she had done most of the talking, but she was too well bred to argue in public. Nor would she have said much had they been at home. It was clear to Helene that her mama was anxious for her to make a good match, and she felt that she must do her very best to oblige her. She did not dislike Mr Bradwell, though she had thought that his good manners had deserted him when he was addressing Lord Coleridge. Indeed, that gentleman had made him seem almost dull and boorish in comparison.
Helene held her sigh inside. She knew which gentleman she preferred, but it was clear her mother did not wish her to encourage Lord Coleridge. Nor ought she to think of it herself. Helene did not wish for the life of a society lady. Marriage was a necessity for a girl in her circumstances, but she hoped to share her life with a gentleman who had the good of others at heart. Perhaps a member of the clergy might suit her as well as any.
She hoped that she would in the next few weeks meet someone she could like well enough to marry who also met with her mama’s approval.
‘You will make a fine swordsman if you continue this way,’ Max said and saluted Toby with his foil. ‘Harry and I both learned as young men, but fighting on a battlefield is a different affair to fencing for sport.’
‘Yes, it must be,’ Toby agreed as they replaced their swords in the stand and walked to the changing room together. ‘I should have liked to join Wellington when Boney escaped from Elba. I was still at Oxford, of course, but that was not the reason I did not offer my services. Mama begged me not to go, because of my father’s health. She said that if anything happened to me it would be the end of him. I felt obliged to do as she asked.’ He looked rueful and Max smiled. ‘I have always felt that I ought not to have listened to her.’
‘Sometimes it takes more strength of mind to give up the chance of adventure than to take it, Toby. Do not feel that you missed out. War is something best avoided if you can. If it had not been for Harry and Gerard, I should have died in Spain. Harry carried me for more than an hour on his back. We were all of us lucky to get out…’ Max frowned. ‘I joined Wellington in Brussels as his aide in the last action, but saw little of the fighting. I got shot at a few times while delivering Old Hooky’s messages, but I seem to have the luck of the devil.’
‘That’s as well,’ Toby said looking at him thoughtfully. ‘You have never married, Coleridge. What would have happened to the title and your estate had you been killed?’
‘I have a cousin. Robert Heronsdale.’ A tiny pulse flickered at Max’s temple. ‘My father’s sister’s son. I suppose Robert would inherit through his mother if I were to die without issue, but I do not think it too late to render that unnecessary.’
‘Has he ever been to town?’ Toby asked. ‘I do not recall the name.’
‘No…’ A strange expression flickered in Max’s eyes. ‘I invited him to stay with me on my return from Brussels, but he was unwell. I have been told that he suffers bouts of periodical sickness.’
‘Unfortunate for the poor fellow,’ Toby said and nodded. ‘Mama worried that I might have inherited Father’s weakness of the chest, but thus far I am hale and hearty.’
‘Nothing to fear as far as you are concerned,’ Max said and the strange look disappeared as he grinned. ‘If you were my heir, I should not be concerned for the future, Toby. As it is, I believe I must seriously consider marriage.’
‘As to that, there was some talk of your showing Miss Fitzherbert particular attention. I heard yesterday that she had accepted the Duke of Melbourn.’
‘I did consider it when we met at a house party at Christmas,’ Max replied. ‘However, after further consideration I decided we should not suit. Poor Jane did not find my sense of humour amusing. Indeed, she did not always realise when I was funning. I fear that I do have a rather irreverent humour and she is not alone in disapproving of levity. Nor would she approve of certain other activities of mine, I fear.’
‘Mr Bradwell was not amused by your humour last night,’ Toby said and arched his right eyebrow. ‘However, Miss Henderson seemed to approve of your actions over the donkey. I should have liked to see her when she pounced on that rogue, Max. From what you told me, she was very brave.’
‘Yes, very,’ Max confirmed. ‘I should not have told you had you not been so taken with that wretched donkey, Toby. You must not tell anyone else of her part in the affair. I would not wish to damage her reputation. She seems to be taking well at the moment.’
‘You need not have cautioned me,’ Toby said. ‘She sounds a good sort of person, Coleridge.’ He threw Max a mocking look. ‘Perhaps you should fix your interest with her before Bradwell does?’
‘Damned young pup!’ Max said and gave him a stare of mock severity. ‘I shall admit to you privately that I like her. However, these things should not be rushed.’
‘I’ll wager that Bradwell will ask her before the week’s out and be turned down,’ Toby said and grinned wickedly. ‘A hundred guineas she sends him away with a flea in his ear!’
‘It is most improper of you to take that young lady’s name in vain,’ Max said, but his eyes gleamed. ‘I’ll take you—but if word of this wager gets out I shall skin you alive!’
‘It is just between us,’ Toby said. ‘We must watch for the signs, Coleridge. They are both certain to be at the Marquis of Hindlesham’s ball this evening.’
‘Amelia was right about that colour,’ Mrs Henderson said as Helene came downstairs wearing her new gown that evening. ‘You look beautiful, my love.’ Helene’s hair had been dressed in a knot at the top of her head, and then allowed to fall to her shoulder in one elegant ringlet. Her hair was a dark, shining brown, her slightly olive-toned skin brought to life by the warmth of the deep peach silk. She was wearing a pendant of diamonds and pearls loaned to her by Amelia, and a matching pair of earrings. ‘I think you need a bracelet, my love. Wear this, Helene. Your papa gave it to me as my wedding gift.’ She handed Helene a small velvet pouch. Inside was a narrow bracelet of diamonds set in gold.
‘Mama, your bracelet,’ Helene said and hesitated. ‘Are you sure you wish to lend it to me? It is so precious to you—and I should be distressed if I lost it. Did you not say that the catch was loose?’
‘I have had the catch seen to,’ Mrs Henderson said. ‘Had your papa been a richer man, you might have had jewels of your own, Helene. I am sorry that I could not give them to you, but you may borrow my bracelet while we are in town.’
‘Oh, thank you, Mama,’ Helene said. ‘Will you fasten it for me, please? I shall take very good care of it, I promise.’
Helene admired the bracelet on her wrist. The stones looked well against the pristine white of her long evening gloves, but she was still a little apprehensive of wearing it, because she knew that her mama treasured the lovely thing. She had been forced to sell some of her jewellery since Papa died, but the bracelet was too precious to part with unless the necessity became too pressing. Helene tested the clasp by giving it a gentle tug. It held and she felt relieved, because it seemed that the fastening was now secure.
Amelia and Emily joined them at that moment. Emily admired the bracelet, complimenting Helene on her appearance.
‘That colour looks wonderful on you,’ she said. ‘So much better than the white Madame Dubois would have had you wear.’
‘I suppose she was thinking that white is generally favoured by young ladies,’ Mrs Henderson said. ‘However, I think Amelia was quite right to advise against it. I believe the carriage awaits—shall we go?’
In the carriage, Helene was careful not to sit on Amelia’s gown. It was quite a squash with four of them, but, by being considerate of each other, they managed to arrive with no damage to their gowns. A red carpet had been laid for the ladies to walk on, and there were linkboys everywhere with their torches and lanterns. Footmen were waiting to conduct the guests inside, and the ladies were greeted by smiling maids who took their evening cloaks. Directed by one of the footmen, they walked up a magnificent staircase to meet the Marquis and Marquise of Hindlesham.
The marquis was a large, portly man dressed in a dark puce coat, his wife a tiny woman, exquisitely lovely in a gown of sparkling silver. She must have been at least twenty years his junior and was now recovered from the birth of her first son. The grand ball was being given in celebration of her success in producing the heir; the magnificent diamonds around her throat were evidence of her husband’s delight at her cleverness.
Amelia congratulated both the marquis and his wife and received a kiss on the cheek from the young mother, who was not much above Helene’s own age. Helene curtsied and thanked her hostess for the invitation.
‘You are very welcome, Miss Henderson,’ the marquise replied and smiled. ‘Amelia Royston is a friend—any guests she cares to bring are always welcome to me. Perhaps we may talk later.’
Helene inclined her head and moved on, because there was a line of guests waiting to greet and be greeted by their hosts. She had thought there were a lot of guests at the soirée the previous evening, but this was clearly a much grander occasion. There were two large reception rooms, which were overflowing with guests. Footmen circled with trays of champagne and many people were content to linger here. However, Amelia was moving steadily through the crush, Emily, Mrs Henderson and Helene following in her wake. Beyond the two crowded reception rooms was a large, long room, which was where the ball was to be held. Helene could hear music playing and already a few couples had taken to the floor.
She looked about her, entranced by the theme. Yards and yards of some pale pink gauzy material had been draped over the stage where the musicians were grouped. Banks of pink roses and carnations were at the foot of the stage, and arranged tastefully in alcoves to either side.
‘Where on earth did they find so many roses?’ Helene asked of no one in particular and heard a throaty chuckle just behind her. Turning, she found herself staring up at Lord Coleridge. ‘My lord…’ She dipped a curtsy. ‘I was just admiring the flowers. There are such a profusion and it is a little early in the year, would you not agree?’
‘I believe they are all forced in a hothouse,’ Max told her, a gleam in his eyes. ‘Have you remarked that they have little scent? For myself I prefer a natural rose…one that is allowed to blossom in its own good time. Ours at Coleridge House begin to flower from May onwards in the most sheltered spots, and there is one white bush that always gives us a rose at Christmas. When I was a child my father always plucked it for my mother on Christmas Day.’
‘How lovely,’ Helene said. She felt a flutter in her stomach as she gazed up into his dark, slate-grey eyes. There was something so very attractive about him! ‘Tell me, do your roses smell wonderful?’
‘Yes, particularly a dark red one that was my mother’s favourite—and an old pink damask rose that no one knows anything about.’
‘Someone must know something of it, surely?’
‘No, it is true that no one can name it, and no one remembers it being planted. My mother was a great gardener until her health went and she died suddenly when I was young, but even she could not remember having it planted. My head gardener thinks it must have grown from a seedling—but we have no record of it. I have made inquiries, but even the experts cannot put a name to it.’
‘How fascinating. If it is truly a new variety you must name it,’ Helene said. ‘I love gardens and gardening. I had my own at home, but my uncle’s gardener does not wish for help.’ She looked at him steadily. ‘I am sorry that your mama died when you were young. I know what it is to lose a parent too soon.’
‘Yes, your mama is a widow, I believe. We have something in common, Miss Henderson. In Mama’s case, it was very sad because in his grief my father neglected her garden—and a garden gives much pleasure,’ Max told her. ‘I am sorry your uncle’s gardener does not wish for your help, but I am sure you will have your own garden again one day.’
‘Yes, perhaps I shall.’
‘May I ask if you will dance this with me?’ Max asked as they saw couples beginning to take the floor for a country dance. ‘I hope you like to dance, Miss Henderson?’
‘Yes—at least, I have not had much opportunity, though I have been given lessons.’
‘I am sure you will enjoy the pastime now that you have the opportunity,’ Max said and offered her his hand. ‘Shall we, Miss Henderson?’
Helene gave him her hand, smiling up at him. The answering smile in his eyes made her feel instantly at home with him, and she found the steps came easily to her. He was a large man, but she was acutely aware how well he danced, seeming to have a light step and an elegant bearing that some of the other gentlemen did not quite possess.
It was for Helene an enchanted moment—it seemed only a moment before he was returning her to her friends.
‘That was most enjoyable, Miss Henderson,’ Max told her as he bowed. ‘May I ask you to reserve the dance before supper, please?’
‘Yes, certainly,’ Helene said. Her heart did an odd little flip as he wrote his name, nodded his head and walked away. Her mama was looking at her, but before she could make a remark, another gentleman approached and asked her to dance. Since she had already met Mr Peters in Amelia’s company, Helene was in the happy position of being able to accept. He wrote his name in one further space at the end of their dance.
‘Miss Henderson, I hope you have reserved a dance for me?’
Helene turned her head as she heard a familiar voice. ‘Good evening, Mr Bradwell. I have not reserved anything, for I did not know if you were here,’ Helene said. ‘But there are still several spaces.’ She offered him her card and he wrote in two of them.
After that, several young men she had not previously met approached Helene and it was not long before every space on her card was filled. Helene found herself swept from one dance to the next, scarcely finding the time to draw breath. When the supper dance became due, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone with pleasure. She had not expected to be this popular at her first dance and felt pleasantly surprised.
‘You are enjoying yourself this evening?’ Max asked as he arrived to claim her for the supper dance. ‘I believe this is a waltz, Miss Henderson. You do not object?’
‘Not at all,’ Helene said. ‘Mama has given me permission to waltz and I have done so twice this evening.’
‘I like it very well,’ he said, placing his gloved hand at the small of her back. ‘But I know some ladies find it very shocking to be held so. It was held to be fast when it was first introduced and I believe some still feel it so.’
His eyes held a gleam of humour as he gazed down at her. Helene wondered if he was trying to provoke her.
‘Yes, I believe it was frowned upon at first,’ she said. ‘I understand that one cannot dance a waltz at Almack’s unless one of the hostesses gives permission. Not that it can signify. I do not suppose that I shall be given vouchers.’
‘Not be given vouchers?’ Max looked at her quizzingly. ‘Why should you not receive vouchers? You seem a respectable young lady to me.’
‘Oh…I hope I am respectable,’ Helene said and gurgled with laughter. ‘But we are not important. Papa had no title and hardly any fortune. He was a gentleman, but if it were not for Miss Royston I dare say I should not have been invited here this evening. I am not certain I shall be approved by society, sir.’
‘Nonsense! You have been seen, Miss Henderson. News of your beauty and good nature will spread. In the next few days you will be invited everywhere—and I am certain you will receive vouchers for Almack’s. You have not lacked for partners this evening, I think?’
‘No, not at all…’ She wondered if she might have more to thank him for than she knew. Had he perhaps sent his friends to ask her to dance? ‘But Almack’s is rather different, I believe?’
‘I assure you that you will receive your invitation, Miss Henderson. It is unthinkable that you should not.’
‘Perhaps…’ Helene held back a sigh. ‘Mama is so grateful for this chance for me.’
‘It would be a pity if someone of your nature were not to grace the drawing rooms of society more often,’ Max said. ‘However, I am certain that I am right. By tomorrow everyone will be wanting to know you.’
‘You are kind,’ Helene said and smiled up at him. ‘I hope you are right—for Mama’s sake as much as my own.’
He nodded and looked thoughtful, but said no more. Helene was glad that there was no need to talk, because she wanted to enjoy the wonderful sensation of being in his arms. She had thought him a good dancer earlier, but waltzing with him was divine. She wished that she might stay like this for the rest of the evening, but that would be most improper. Their dance ended all too soon.
Helene hoped that he might ask her to take supper with him, but he merely bowed to her and her mother, said that he would call soon and then walked away. Watching him, Helene saw him speaking to some ladies that she did not know.
‘I do not believe it would be a good thing for you to dance with Lord Coleridge too often,’ Mrs Henderson said, coming up to her. ‘He is a perfect gentleman, Helene, and well liked—but you must not set your heart on him. He mixes in circles that we shall scarcely enter, my dear.’
‘I am very certain he would not do for me, Mama,’ Helene replied primly, though a little voice at the back of her mind told her that she was not telling the whole truth. She did like Lord Coleridge more than she was prepared to admit, but of course it would not do at all.
As they moved towards the supper room, Emily and Amelia joined them; a sumptuous buffet had been laid out on long tables and waiters were circulating with trays of champagne. Laid out for their delectation were platters of cold meats, chicken, beef, ham, tiny pies and pastries containing both sweet and savoury fillings and a huge variety of relishes, cold peas and soft sweet plums in a syrup.
Helene took a small glass of syllabub and a spoon and followed Amelia and Emily to a table by the window. She glanced back at the buffet table, discovering that an attractive lady, to whom Helene had as yet not been introduced, had detained her mother. Mrs Henderson seemed to be nodding and smiling a great deal, and when she returned to the table she had a slightly dazed expression on her face.
‘Well…’ she said as she put a small plate on the table. ‘You could have knocked me down with a feather. I have just been talking to Lady Jersey. She asked me to bring Helene to a picnic in Richmond she is planning for next Thursday—and she has promised to send us vouchers for Almack’s for the whole of the Season. I was most surprised, for I did not expect it.’
‘I am so glad,’ Amelia said and smiled at Helene. ‘I knew all my friends would invite us to their affairs, but vouchers for Almack’s are not within my gift. I thought it might happen, but that was very swift, Marie. The picnic is an honour, because Sally Jersey does not invite every young lady she meets to her more intimate affairs.’
‘Are you sure she promised us vouchers for Almack’s, Mama?’ Helene said. She bit her lip, because the lady her mama had spoken to at the buffet was one of those she had seen Lord Coleridge conversing with before they entered the supper room. She was almost certain that he had urged the lady to invite them to her picnic and to send them vouchers.
‘Yes, quite certain,’ Mrs Henderson said. ‘She told me that she wished to meet you, Helene—and I am to take you to her after supper. She said that she hoped we would call and take tea with her when she is at home to visitors.
‘I was quite overcome—I was certainly not expecting anything of the kind,’ Mrs Henderson said. ‘Is Lady Jersey a particular friend of yours, Amelia? She said that a particular friend had spoken to her about Helene.’
‘I know Sally Jersey quite well,’ Amelia replied. ‘I am not certain she would call me a particular friend. I wonder…’ She shook her head as Mrs Henderson looked at her. ‘It was just a thought. I shall say nothing for the moment. It is not impossible that you were asked because you are staying with me. I have many good friends in society.’
‘Yes, indeed you do,’ Mrs Henderson agreed. ‘Well, Helene, we have been fortunate, my dear. If Lady Jersey should take a fancy to you, you will be welcomed everywhere.’ Helene did not answer. She felt uncomfortable, certain that she knew exactly who had brought about this tiny miracle. However, she did not think that it would be a good idea to mention her suspicion to her mama.
Chapter Three
Helene yawned and stretched as she woke to see the sun pouring in through the window. They had been out late again the previous evening, but she had asked her maid to wake her so that she would be dressed and ready to join the party driving to Richmond that morning. She threw back the covers and jumped out, feeling a thrill of pleasure. When they met at the Marquis of Hindlesham’s ball, Lady Jersey had told her that she would send an escort for Helene and her mother, to bring them to the picnic.
Helene had not inquired further, but she had an odd, excited sensation in the pit of her stomach as she dressed. Two carriages were being sent to fetch them, because Amelia and Emily had also been invited.
Helene took her time choosing her gown for the day. In the end she decided on a striped green linen. It had a modest neckline with a white, scalloped lace collar, a wide band of white was caught up under her bust and a flounce at the bottom, the skirt slim but with sufficient play to allow her to climb into and out of carriages. She chose a pair of black leather half-boots, because there was bound to be a certain amount of walking and, since it had rained the day before, there might be wet grass and even mud in the park. Her white shoes would be ruined, but these sturdy boots would allow her to enjoy herself without worrying.
Helene was wearing a white stole and a bonnet that tied under her chin with green ribbons when she met the others downstairs. She saw that they had all chosen sensible footwear and smiled, because she was pleased to have made the right choice. When a knock sounded at the door and two gentlemen were admitted, Helene’s heart leaped in her breast. She had guessed right, because Lord Coleridge and Mr Sinclair walked in, greeting the ladies with broad smiles.
‘Lady Jersey has sent us to convey you to the picnic,’ Max said. ‘I am driving my curricle, but Mr Sinclair has his carriage and a splendid team of four.’
‘Miss Royston, Mrs Henderson, would you do me the honour of driving with me?’ Toby said. ‘I see that Miss Henderson is wearing a bonnet that ties under the chin and will do well enough in an open vehicle. Miss Royston, that fetching hat will blow away for there is a slight breeze today. You will do better inside. Miss Barton, will you join us—and I believe you might prefer it, ma’am?’ Toby smiled at Mrs Henderson.
‘Yes, I believe I should.’ Mrs Henderson glanced at her daughter. ‘Helene, will you be all right in the curricle?’
‘Yes, of course, Mama,’ Helene said. She glanced at Emily. ‘Your bonnet will not blow away—would you care to ride with Lord Coleridge?’
‘Perhaps when we return,’ Emily said. ‘You go, Helene. I shall do very well in the carriage.’
‘As you wish,’ Helene said and looked at Lord Coleridge as he stood aside for her to go out of the front door. ‘I prefer riding in an open carriage, sir. It is such a lovely day, even if there is a breeze.’
‘Oh, I think it slight,’ Max said innocently and avoided her honest gaze. ‘But Toby wants to show off his skill with his team. He has not long been a member of the Four-in-Hand—did you remark his waistcoat? He is wearing it in your honour today.’ His mouth quirked with irreverent humour. ‘I must admit I have one rather like it at home, but I do not wear it today.’
‘It is a rather fine waistcoat,’ Helene said, a little amused; in truth, it had looked a little odd. ‘I have heard it said that you are also a member of that club—you did not choose to drive your four today?’
‘I thought a curricle would be nicer. Pray tell me you are pleased with the idea, Miss Henderson—you would not prefer that I had brought Jezra?’
‘Sir! You are bamming me,’ Helene said and shook her head at him. ‘You are a wicked tease. Are you never serious? I do not think you would drive that wretched creature in town.’
‘I fear my credit would not survive it,’ Max said mournfully. ‘I must tell you that Jezra has to date kicked each and every member of my stable at least once. The healthier the wretched creature becomes, the more stubborn it grows. I have decided that it must be sent to the country before my grooms desert me.’
‘I am sure they would not dream of it,’ Helene said and laughed, for he was amusing. She glanced at Jemmy, who was with the horses, steadying them. ‘You are a wicked jokester, sir. Has the donkey really been such a trial to you?’
‘He be the devil in disguise, miss,’ Jemmy piped up from the back of the carriage, but subsided at a look from his master.
‘I am in the fortunate position that I am the only one not to be kicked, perhaps because I take care to stand well back,’ Max told her. ‘I have heard of an orphanage just outside London. They are in need of a pet for the children, and the donkey would be well cared for. I can vouch for it that they are good people. Jezra may be asked to draw a small cart occasionally, but nothing too heavy. Would such a scheme win your approval?’
‘An orphanage—oh, that is just the thing,’ Helene said, her eyes bright as she turned to look at him. He gave her his hand, helping her into the curricle, and then swung up beside her. ‘How did you come to hear of it? I know Amelia is connected with a home of some kind in London. I am hoping to visit one day. Perhaps I could visit the one you know of at some time in the future? Do you think it would be permitted?’
Jemmy made a sound, as though he intended to say something, but thought better of it. He jumped up at the back of the vehicle.
‘Would you wish to?’ Max asked as he gave his horses the order to walk on. ‘The children are from the poorest of families. They are healthy enough these days, but boisterous. Like Jezra, the better they feel, the worse they behave. They would surround you and beg you to play with them, I fear.’
‘I should like that, sir. I believe it becomes everyone who may do so to take an interest in others less fortunate than themselves. There are many ills in this world, not least the unfairness of inequality and poverty. It cannot be right that there should be such a divide between the richest and the poor,’ Helene said heatedly and then blushed. ‘But perhaps it would be a trouble to you to take me there? I should not have asked. I dare say you are a busy man.’
‘It would be no trouble at all. I visit most weeks when I am in town,’ Max told her. ‘Do you think Mrs Henderson would permit it? Visiting an orphanage is not precisely the reason she brought you to town, I think.’
‘No, perhaps not,’ Helene said and her cheeks heated. He must think her pretentious to speak out on such a subject when she was here for the purpose of enjoying herself and in the hope of contracting a good marriage. ‘I know we have engagements most days for the next week or so, but perhaps at a later date…’
‘Yes, I think one day we might arrange it,’ Max replied. ‘When we know each other a little better, perhaps.’
Helene glanced down at her gloves. She was a little conscious that she had been too familiar and lapsed into silence. Obviously, he took some interest in the orphanage and might think it presumptuous of her to lecture him on the evils of society. It was some minutes before he spoke again, changing the subject.
‘Have you visited Almack’s yet, Miss Henderson?’
‘Our first vouchers are for this Wednesday evening,’ Helene replied, relieved that he had rescued her, for she had not known how to begin a conversation.
‘Shall you go?’
‘Yes, I am certain we shall,’ Helene replied and looked down at her hands. ‘I dare say you find the entertainment a little insipid. I have heard some gentlemen say it does not amuse them.’
‘Indeed, some of my friends visit only when their sisters beg it of them,’ Max said. ‘I have seldom visited in the past, but Sally Jersey has been urging me to do so for an age. I believe I may oblige her this Season.’
‘Oh…’ Helene could not bring herself to glance at him. ‘It will be pleasant if we should meet there, sir.’
She could not help but think that his words had a deeper meaning. Was he suggesting that he would visit Almack’s this Season because she would be there? If so, it would be a special compliment. The thought made her feel warm inside.
No, she must not let herself be carried away! Mama had warned her that he would look much higher for his bride. To allow herself to dream of a future when he might begin to care for her would be foolish. Besides, the gap between them was too wide. Lord Coleridge was rich, titled and accustomed to spending his time amusing himself in society. She had always pictured herself as the wife of a deserving man, perhaps even a missionary who would carry her off to far lands where she would administer to the sick and dying.
The drive to Richmond was so pleasant! Helene thought that this picnic must be one of the most enjoyable events she had attended since she had come to town. The company was select, and she was made to feel very much a part of things. For a while Lady Jersey kept her at her side, talking to her and asking a great deal of questions about her life and her opinions on almost everything. However, after everyone had eaten, the company began to stroll about the park, though some of the older ladies made themselves comfortable in the shade of the trees.
‘Would you like to walk, Miss Barton—Miss Henderson?’ Toby asked. ‘Or do you prefer to rest in the shade?’
‘I should like to walk,’ Emily said and Helene got to her feet at once. ‘We shall join you, sir.’
‘Thank you, sir. It is such a lovely day.’
Toby offered his arm to Emily. Lord Coleridge had come to join them. He offered his arm to Helene. Another lady, Miss Trevor, and her brother joined them and the six set off to walk about the park.
‘This is a beautiful place,’ Helene said, feeling that she needed to say something. ‘I like to walk by the river—do you admire water, sir?’
‘At home I have a lake, but no river, I am afraid,’ Max replied. ‘I am at this moment in the process of adding a little waterfall. I think there is nothing so pleasant on a warm day as the sound of water tumbling over rocks. Since we do not have a natural feature, I have decided to install one.’
‘Oh, how lovely,’ Helene cried. She was about to say that she would love to see it, but held the words back. They were much too forward and would sound as if she was angling for an invitation to his estate, which would be terrible. It was bad enough that she had asked him to take her to the orphanage earlier. ‘I have never been to the sea—have you?’
‘Yes, many times, and over it when I was with Wellington in Spain and France. My estate is not far from the sea, it is situated in Norfolk, but a few miles from the coast.’
‘Oh, yes, of course. You must be fond of the sea,’ Helene said. ‘I think someone told me you were given a medal for your service in the last war?’
‘A mere bauble,’ Max said modestly. ‘I rode dispatch missions, nothing more. I have also been to Brighton. You must know that the Regent has a house there and is in the process of refurbishing it. I believe it is something exotic and strange—or will be by the time he has finished it.’
‘Oh, yes, someone was saying that it is a little odd,’ Helene replied. ‘Does it resemble an Eastern pavilion or some such thing?’
‘Some such thing would probably describe it best,’ Max said and chuckled. ‘Perhaps your mama will take you to Brighton for some sea air when the Season is done. Many people will go down in June or July, you know.’
‘I do not think it,’ Helene said and turned away, for she could not confess that they could not afford such trips. Her eyes were for some reason drawn to a stand of trees. Something had caught her notice, a splash of colour amongst the trees. She did not know why it had taken her attention, but she continued to look at the trees and then she saw the man plainly. He was wearing a dark blue coat, a black hat pulled low over his face, hiding it. Something about him caused Helene to feel a sliver of ice at the nape of her neck. She watched as he brought his arm up, a gasp of surprise on her lips as she saw that he was holding a pistol, the sunlight glinting on the long barrel. It took her a few seconds longer to realise that the pistol and the man’s intense gaze was pointed in their direction—not at her, but the man by her side. ‘Sir!’ she cried and gave Max an almighty push, sending him staggering sidewards. So startled was he that for a moment he fell to one knee, and the crack of a pistol was an instant later, the ball passing so close that Helene felt the whistle of it as it passed between them. ‘Over there…’ She pointed in the direction of the trees. The man in the blue coat had turned and was running away. ‘I saw him. He was going to shoot you.’
‘Good grief! She is right, Max,’ Toby came to him hurriedly. ‘I’m not carrying a weapon or I would go after him. Damn it! I never thought I should need it today, though my groom has one.’ He glanced towards the carriages, but they were too far away. No one had even heard the shot. ‘It would be no good—he’ll be long gone before we could fetch it and follow.’
‘No, let the fellow go,’ Max said in a harsh voice. ‘Thankfully, he missed. We could not risk a shooting match, there are ladies present.’ He gave Toby a look deep with meaning. ‘It would be too much of a risk.’
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