Helene, page 3
“Come to seek my advice, my good wife, have you? Well, you have come at the right moment,” Lord Ambel declared. “My advice is to stop indulging your every whim. I simply will not keep paying these bills for bonnets and whatever frippery takes your fancy.”
Lady Ambel looked at her husband in trepidation as she wondered what could possibly have happened to overset him so. She was used to his occasional outbursts, but even so, life was never very comfortable while they lasted. “Of course, dear…” she stuttered.
“’Tis unfortunate that I have been so thoughtless…. Perhaps I should return later when your spleen has settled….”
“No, wife,” Lord Ambel said crossly. “Out with it. What is your problem? I might as well deal with everything all at once this morning. I never thought that launching one daughter would cause me so much grief.” Lady Ambel was now thoroughly alarmed. This was not like her husband at all, for normally he was able to hold his temper in check, especially with her. Oh dear, why did she have to pick such an awkward time to consult him about Helene.
“My dear husband,” she stammered bravely. “I…I have no desire to add to your obvious distress. Is there not something I can do to help?”
Lord Ambel softened at the soothing note in his wife’s voice. “I’m sorry, me dear,” he said contritely. “Am in a devilish mood today. Forgive me. ’Tis naught to worry your pretty head about.” He crossed over to where she stood and drew her hand through his arm. Patting it gently he forced her to pace the room with him. “I have just received some unwelcome news from Paris, but I am sure it is exaggerated. Now, what is this about Helene?”
Lady Ambel looked at her husband sympathetically. He was still a fine figure of a man, even though he had passed the half-century milestone three years back. She knew something of the special work he was engaged in, on behalf of the government, and had realized long ago that he wished he were more active. To have to sit at home and send other men into danger, seeking information on the white slave traffic that seemed so prolific nowadays, did not sit well with him at all. She brought her free hand over and rested it briefly on his arm. “I think she is about to receive her first proposal.”
“Egad!” Lord Ambel ejaculated. “Have I been so wrapped up in my own work that I have failed to take note of who is laying siege to my own daughter? Who is this blackguard, madam?”
Lady Ambel smiled as she realized that her husband was teasing her. “Why Mr. Burton, my dear. Surely you remember him. He was the one you described as conventionally handsome when you met him at Mrs. Richards’ dinner party the other night.”
“Oh, him,” he answered noncommittally. “Not enough spirit for Helene, I fear. What say you, m’dear?”
“He is firm enough in his own way, I believe. And his birth and fortune are respectable. I…I would not be opposed to the match.”
“Why is there this hurry of a sudden?” Lord Ambel asked. “The season has only just begun.”
“Hurry, m’lord? No, you misunderstand.”
Lord Ambel smiled down at his wife. “I think not, my lady. Something has happened to perturb you, so do not pretend it otherwise.”
“It is naught, only Helene is so susceptible. She met Captain Longford last night, and…and I know of his reputation and cannot think it proper for our daughter…”
“Ah! Now there is a compelling young man, but not in the petticoat line at all. So you have no need to be worrying yourself about him.” There was a finality to this statement that made Lady Ambel look sharply at her husband. Maybe she had misread the roguish look in the captain’s eye last night. Even so, there was still his reputation to be considered. However, maybe her husband knew more about him than he was willing to tell.
“What do you want me to do if this Mr. Burton approaches me, then, my dear?” Lord Ambel asked. “Perhaps I should speak to Helene, for it is possible that she does not find him suitable.”
Lady Ambel, suppressing her feelings of doubt, nodded her head in assent. “I think that is a good idea, my lord.”
As it happened, Helene was well able to take care of David, even though his proposal took her by surprise. They had no sooner moved away from the house toward Hyde Park, when David turned to her impulsively. “I know it is sudden, Helene, but my feelings for you force me to speak now, for I cannot bear to sit by and watch you being ogled by other men.”
“Please, David,” Helene interrupted. “Don’t say any more.”
“But I must, my dear. I want to marry you.” The matter-of-fact tone to his voice belied the rapid beating of his heart, but as his eyes searched Helene’s face he realized that she had been unprepared for his declaration. “I know it must seem sudden to you, but I knew how it was for me from the very first moment I met you….”
“David, please. I don’t want to hurt you, for I regard your friendship as something special, but I do not feel that I can return your feeling….” She held up her hand to silence him. “…No, pray let me continue. It would be unfair of me to accept your proposal….”
“I have spoken too soon,” David said, a note of despair in his voice. “I have frightened you.”
“No. That is something you could never do. I am afraid that my liberal upbringing has made me believe that a happy marriage can be built only on mutual love and respect. You know I respect you, and, indeed, in time this feeling may develop into something more. But for the present, I feel that we do not know each other well enough to make a lasting commitment.”
“I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know you, Helene,” David said huskily.
Helene looked at him sorrowfully. “I am terribly sorry, David, to cause you so much distress. Yet I must remain firm. I want to be fair to you as well as to myself. You do see that, don’t you?”
David nodded unhappily.
Impulsively, Helene laid her hand on his knee. “We can still be friends, can we not?”
David took his time before answering. He had never felt so defenseless in his life. Yet, deep in his heart he appreciated her honesty. He had surprised himself with his impulsive proposal, but there was something about the meeting he had witnessed between Helene and Captain Longford last night that had made him wary. “Of course we can still be friends. I hope we are both adult enough not to be awkward in each other’s presence merely because I was foolish enough to declare my intentions far sooner than I intended. Indeed, we would not be enacting such a Cheltenham tragedy now if you weren’t wearing such an absurdly delicious bonnet.”
Helene giggled at his comment and was grateful to him for making light of the situation. “Oh, David, how ridiculous you are. If it’s my bonnet you admire, here, take it.” Her slender fingers reached up to untie the strings that held Madame Fifi’s latest creation on her head at a precarious angle.
“What, and set all the gossips talking? No, Lady Helene, you had best keep it for the time being.” David, relieved that they were once more on a friendly footing, smiled to himself. He would give her all the time she wanted, but he was determined about one thing. He was going to do his best to cut out all the other suitors who were dangling after her, especially Captain Longford.
He slowed the bays down as they entered the gates of Hyde Park and expertly tooled them through the narrow approach. He settled himself more comfortably as they reached the open parkway, and remarked affably as he surveyed the scene around him, “I often wonder where all the people come from.”
“From under the wainscot,” Helene answered humorously, “although I cannot imagine coming here to be stared at when one can spend a morning at the library or any of the museums.”
David looked at her. “You do not like driving?” he queried.
“In general, yes,” Helene answered, not wanting to appear rude. “But I prefer a good gallop across the Downs.”
“You seem contemptuous of these people, though,” he persisted, indicating the parade of ladies and gentlemen who were milling about.
“No, not contemptuous of them but of the game they are playing,” Helene explained quietly. “It seems so incredibly stupid to me that one cannot talk to whom one wants to without the proper introduction.” As if to illustrate her point, she gestured to a group of people who were being introduced to each other. There was much bowing and curtsying, and it was plain to see how the women vied with each other for attention. “If I had started talking to you without being properly presented, I would have been considered fast,” she continued. “But why shouldn’t I, if I have something to say? Oh, dear, it’s so unfair being a woman.”
David looked at her, visibly shocked. “Lady Helene!” he exclaimed. “You must be more careful in what you say. It would never do for anyone else to hear you talk like that. Your reputation would be ruined.”
She looked at him in consternation as she wondered why she had allowed herself to talk so loosely. However, she mused, if it were Captain Longford she were talking to, he would, no doubt, be encouraging her to be more outrageous. She turned to David and smiled at him beguilingly. “I am sorry. Really I am. And I promise to think before I speak in future.”
Although much relieved by her reassurances, he was thankful he had been the recipient of her confidences and not some young buck who would have delighted in spreading the word that Helene, for all her beauty, was nothing more than a radical bluestocking.
Helene interrupted his thoughts by touching his arm. “Please stop, David. There is Juliet and I do so want a word with her.”
He pulled up beside the crested barouche that belonged to the Sweeny family. He nodded briefly to Juliet before helping Helene down in order for her to join her friend for a quiet chat.
Helene noticed immediately that Juliet was upset, even though she was doing her best to conceal it in front of the maid. Quickly, Helene dismissed the servant. “What is it, Juliet? Something has happened, I can tell.”
“The worst,” Juliet responded, tears trickling down her ashen cheeks. “Papa has accepted the earl’s offer.”
“What!” Helene said in astonishment. “How could he? Surely he knows that you cannot abide him.”
Juliet shook her head helplessly, for she was sobbing so hard by now that she was unable to speak. Helene put an arm around her and pressed a kerchief into her hand. “There, there, Juliet. Try and calm yourself, else you will have everyone staring at you.” Her mind was racing with ideas and plans to help ease her friend’s distress. “Come, now. Dry your eyes and let us think what is to be done.” Juliet sniffed hard and pressed the tiny piece of white linen to her eyes. With a superhuman effort she controlled herself.
“I cannot think what to do, Helene. I have spent all night awake. There is nothing that can be done.”
Helene tightened her hold on Juliet protectively. “There is one thing I can do,” she said thoughtfully. “I shall write to Nicholas immediately, for I know that once he is in possession of all the facts he will not sit by and let you be sold to the highest bidder.”
The troubled look left Juliet’s face momentarily. “Do…do…you really mean it? Oh, Helene, that would be wonderful, for I know he will know just what to do. He will not let me down.” She sat back with a sigh.
Helene looked at her friend compassionately, aware that she was oblivious to the difficulties that lay ahead of her. “You are prepared to elope with Nicholas, if necessary, Juliet? For I cannot conceive of any other way he can effect your rescue.”
“Elopement!” Juliet exclaimed in horror. “I cannot possibly consider such a step. I mean…how could I?”
“Well, it might not come to that,” Helene responded quickly, “but you must be aware of the problems that Nicholas will have to face to prevent your marriage to the earl.”
This reminder of the marriage caused Juliet to shed a few more tears, but Helene chided her kindly. “Come now, crying is not going to help us. Trust me and I will see that you come about.”
Juliet smiled bravely. “I know you must think me a wet goose, dear, dear Helene, but I will try to be courageous. If Nicholas can overcome the traumatic effects of his accident, then surely I can bear with the attentions of the earl for a while. But…but what happens should Nicholas refuse to rescue me?” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she asked the question.
A similar thought had passed through Helene’s mind, but she had dismissed it quickly. After reading the letter she intended to write to him, he could not possibly refuse to help. “Do not even consider such a possibility,” she responded confidently. “Nicholas will not let you down. Now, I have some news for you. I was introduced to a Captain Longford last night, and it appears that he met Nicholas in Paris and was full of assurances that Nicholas is well and beginning to enjoy himself. Fancy, he has even taken up painting.”
Juliet smiled mistily as she listened to Helene. “Please, please let him come soon,” she prayed to herself, “and please give me the strength to wait.”
3
THE rain was beating a monotonous tune on the windows of Helene’s bedroom as she sat at her writing desk. She had just finished composing the letter to Nicholas and was now contemplating Juliet’s plight. She sighed deeply as she rose from her chair and moved toward the fire to warm her hands. It did not occur to her to even consider that Nicholas would react negatively to her missive. She had stated the facts surrounding Juliet’s enforced engagement plainly and she knew he would react positively, for he was a man deeply in love and would do everything in his power to protect Juliet from the earl.
Her sigh was, in part, a sign of her own dissatisfaction—the inexplicable discontent she felt at having to channel all her energies into pretending to enjoy the season; but she was also too honest not to admit that living in the country had begun to pall. There must be something that I can do, she thought, that would be of benefit to someone, besides helping Juliet. A feeling of frustration swept over her as she stood looking at her reflection in the mirror over the mantelshelf.
“Helene,” she said to her image, “you must not mope so. You promised Mama that you would behave for the next three months, and behave you will.”
She tugged at the bellrope and waited for Amy to appear. At least she could look forward to a pleasant afternoon at Lady Ambrose’s, especially since her mother had cried off because she was suffering from one of her headaches. She stretched in anticipation of what she knew would be a lively hour with the eccentric lady, and crossed to her wardrobe to contemplate what to wear.
An hour later, dressed in a most becoming pale lilac tea gown, she presented herself at Lady Ambrose’s. The sound of muted voices surprised her, for she had assumed she would be the only guest. The thought flashed through her mind that she should make an excuse and leave, for it was not seemly for a single girl to appear at any social function without a chaperone; but her interest was aroused and she followed the butler across the hall. She paused as he flung open the imposing double doors that led into a magnificent drawing room, and her eyes were immediately drawn to the beautiful carved gold-inlaid moldings that decorated the ceiling. The whole room was splendid. A perfect combination of Oriental and European decor. A smile of pleasure crossed her face, which Lady Ambrose observed with delight.
“You appreciate fine furnishings as well as architecture, then, Helene. Do come in and be introduced.”
Without a trace of embarrassment, Helene crossed the room to curtsy in front of her hostess. “Forgive my staring so, Lady Ambrose, but the artistry with which you have decorated this room is spellbinding. I would never have believed that two such distinct styles would blend together so well.”
“My particular talent, my dear. Even Prinny acknowledges my superiority. I found it necessary to develop a skill I could talk about when I discovered I had no aptitude for embroidery.” She chortled deeply as she spoke. “Come, let me introduce you to a few people.”
She rose stiffly from her chair, and Helene had difficulty in restraining herself from helping. She knew, instinctively, that Lady Ambrose would not welcome such a gesture.
The conversations, which had slowed following Helene’s arrival, picked up again as Lady Ambrose beckoned a young matron to her side. “Liza, dear child, take Helene under your wing and do the necessary, for you know how fatiguing I find introductions. Enjoy yourself, Helene, and do not worry that my guests will frown on intelligent conversation. They thrive on it.” She turned slowly and made her way back to her love seat.
“So you are Helene,” Liza said kindly. “Lady Ambrose mentioned that you would be here this afternoon, and she was certain we would deal well together.”
Helene felt herself warming to the young woman. “She is a remarkable person, is she not? I thought to be quite overwhelmed by her presence, but instead I find that she is not as formidable as she appears.”
“She is an inspiration to us all, which is the reason we all flock to her salon every week. I have not missed a Wednesday afternoon here in three years. I hope that after today, you too will become a regular attendee. We always welcome the injection of young people, especially those who have new ideas and are willing to discuss them.”
Helene smiled shyly, glad that her presence was so readily accepted. “I hope that I can contribute something, but I must confess that my brain has become quite numb after only three weeks of the season. ’Tis amazing how quickly one can suppress one’s argumentative tendencies in the face of so much disapproval.”
“Attack is the best form of defense in this circle, as you will find out for yourself,” Liza encouraged. “So shake off your numbness and open your mind to the novelty of being amidst people who believe in freedom of speech. And do not be surprised if some of the topics discussed shock you, for no subject is taboo.”
“I do not think I am shockable,” Helene replied warmly. “In fact, my brother is certain that my being born a girl was a mistake, for he is always chiding me about my unladylike behavior and ideas.”
