Helene, page 4
Liza put her hand on Helene’s arm and drew her forward. “Let me introduce myself properly before I make you known to everyone else. I am Liza Esdale. I…”
Helene started at the name. “Liza Esdale, the novelist?” she asked in awe. “I am truly honored, for I never thought to ever meet you. I have read every single book you have written…and so has my father.” The delight she felt was obvious, and Liza smiled at the reaction.
“I am delighted that you accord me so much admiration,” she said modestly, “for in general my books are not well received.”
“I can readily believe that,” Helene answered in understanding. “I am afraid you write too well and on subjects that most people are afraid of. However, Papa was so pleased when he discovered one of your works, The Gold Chain, he immediately ordered the other three, and between us we have read them many times.”
“I am surprised that your father would allow you to read such books.”
“Oh, Papa insists that we all open our minds to the good things as well as the more unpleasant things in life,” Helene replied artlessly. “He is a firm believer in education for both sexes.”
Liza smiled with pleasure. “Your enthusiasm is encouraging, for I declare that at times I am persuaded that I will never put pen to paper again. Take The Gold Chain, for example. I had so many letters condemning the views I expressed on child farms that my publisher almost refused to distribute This Fearful Place.”
“But that is what is wrong with this society,” Helene exclaimed angrily. “Why do people condemn your views on a topic that should be openly discussed in every drawing room in the country? It is absolutely criminal the way children are raised on those farms purely for prostitution.” …She broke off, her disgust too deep to allow her to continue.
Liza nodded in agreement. “It is difficult to conjure any support for such a sordid subject, and unfortunately, as women, our appeals for change are always ignored.” She saw the distress her words caused Helene and hastened to console her. “One day it might change. One day women will be a force, but until then we must do what little we can for those poor, unfortunate girls and hope our words do not fall on barren ground all the time. Come, Helene, let me introduce you before I am accused of keeping you all to myself.” She turned to a man who was standing, behind her, “Percy Farthingale, meet Lady Helene Ambel. Percy writes for the Morning News,” she explained to Helene, “and he specializes in international news.”
Soon Helene and Liza were embroiled in an argument about who really was to blame in the loss of the American Colonies. Helene was glowing in the exhilaration of the stimulating conversation and was just about to counter a point Percy had made when a familiar voice said, “Still trying to persuade us that Benedict Arnold was not a traitor to his country, Percy? I’m afraid you have chosen the two least gullible women in the room to convince.”
Percy laughed. “Not at all, Robert. I have long since stopped extolling Arnold’s virtues amongst this set. I say, have you met Lady Helene Ambel? Lady Helene, I would very much like to present an old, dear, trusted friend of mine, Robert Longford.”
Helene turned slowly, hoping the blush that had risen in her cheeks at mention of his name would subside. He was the last person she had expected to meet at Lady Ambrose’s.
“What a pleasant surprise, Lady Helene,” Captain Longford said as he bowed. “I must confess my astonishment at seeing you amidst such a liberal setting.”
Stung by his words, Helene replied quickly, “Exactly my thoughts at seeing you, Captain Longford. I mean…I…” She broke off as she realized how rude she sounded.
Liza, sensing her embarrassment, stepped in quickly. “I know what you mean, Helene,” she said. “A man with Robert’s reputation has no call being present in such illustrious company. We try to tell him so every time he drops in that he will give us all a bad name, but…” She shrugged her shoulders in mock dismay.
Thankful that her new friend had come to her rescue, Helene smiled at the banter as she nodded in agreement.
“You are unkind, Liza,” Captain Longford responded lightly. “In sooth, ’tis my reputation that suffers when I appear here, for you know what is said of Lady Ambrose’s eccentric group….” He left the opinion unspoken, as though he assumed everyone knew what was said of them. He turned once again to Helene and deftly maneuvered her out of the group. “I do not see your mother here,” he said, looking round the room. “You are alone?” His tone indicated his surprise.
Helene looked at him defiantly. “I was not aware that one needed a chaperone to attend Lady Ambrose’s tea party.”
“Yet, I am certain that your mother would not be pleased to know that you came unescorted.”
“Well, as to that,” Helene said somewhat sheepishly, “she was not aware that there would be a gathering. But,” she added with spirit, “I am sure Lady Ambrose’s presence is considered sufficient.” She could not determine whether he disapproved or was just teasing her. She guessed it was the latter, for surely a man with his ascribed bad character would not deem her conduct forward.
“Be that as it may, Lady Helene,” he said, a lazy smile lighting his eyes, “I insist that you accept my escort home.”
She knew now that he was teasing her, yet she could not stay a small flutter of excitement at the thought that he had singled her out for attention. However, with an effort to mask the thrill she felt, she raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. “Why, Captain Longford. Such gallantry from a man with your reputation can only be rewarded by my acceptance.”
He looked at her shrewdly. She was a lovely girl, he thought. She did not seem the least flattered by his attention, and the way she had been arguing with Percy was admirable. Not a trace of the simpering debutante he had met last night. What a shame she was Ambel’s daughter, for it meant he could indulge in only the lightest of flirtation. He excused himself with the promise that he would be available when she was ready to leave and wandered off to have a word with his hostess.
“I do believe you have tamed the captain,” Liza said softly in Helene’s ear. “What say you, Percy?”
Helene laughed. “Hardly, Liza. Mama provoked the captain last night with some ill-chosen remark, and I suspect he is out to prove her right.”
Both Percy and Liza nodded. “That sounds like the contrary creature he can be,” Percy said with a grin. “Now, back to what I was saying about Benedict Arnold…”
Liza groaned. “Not again, Percy, please,” she begged. “I swear I am beginning to wish we had never heard of the Americas.”
“I’ll let you off this time,” Percy said indulgently as he turned to Helene. “I hope that I have the pleasure of seeing you here next week, for I am sure you are more interested in the affairs of the world. Maybe you can convince Liza that there is more to life than writing novels.” Without waiting for an answer, he bowed gracefully and moved away.
“Men!” Liza exclaimed jokingly. “They really are monstrous. Even these enlightened ones are interested only in discussing subjects they feel comfortable with. Beware! For should you start on about the white slave traffic, or mesmerism, they will deftly change the topic to something else.”
“I am afraid it is the same reaction you got to The Gold Chain, although people know that child farms exist, they do not want to talk about them,” Helene said earnestly. “I am fortunate though in that my father feels that such things should be discussed in our household.” She paused as she thought of the horror her mother lived with that one of her children would inadvertently let slip in polite circles some snippet that had been discussed at home. “Poor Mama is terrified lest I forget myself at Almack’s and actually give voice to some of my opinions.”
“Whatever will she say when she discovers how you have spent the afternoon?” Liza asked.
“I think it best to leave her in ignorance, for she will, of a certainty, prevent me from attending next week. I shall tell her that Lady Ambrose is in fine health and we had a great discussion on the merits of Oriental furnishings. And that,” Helene added triumphantly, “I am sure, will dissuade her from accompanying me next week.” She looked across the room and found that Captain Longford was watching her. She smiled and indicated with a nod that she was ready to leave. “I have enjoyed meeting you, Liza,” she said. “And I look forward to seeing you again.”
She bade farewell to Lady Ambrose and eagerly accepted the invitation to return the following Wednesday. “Though, if you do not mind, Lady Ambrose, I would prefer to come alone, for I do not think Mama would fully understand.”
“Of course, child,” Lady Ambrose replied understandingly, an appreciative gleam lighting her eyes. “I shall invite you both for tea some other time.”
Captain Longford was waiting for her. His curricle, drawn by two of the blackest horses Helene had ever seen, was outside the front door. He helped her up into the seat and lithely sprang up into the driver’s seat before taking the reins in his hand. “You are aglow, Lady Helene,” he remarked casually. “It would seem the afternoon agreed with you.”
“Why, thank you, Captain,” Helene responded, dimpling her cheeks flirtatiously. “To have met someone I have admired from afar for so long was an exhilarating experience….”
Captain Longford looked at her quizzically. “As we met yesterday, I assume you mean Percy.”
“No, ’twas not Percy Farthingale, for I had never heard of him before today. I am talking about Liza Esdale, whom I consider to be one of the most talented writers to emerge in recent years.”
Captain Longford’s look turned to one of surprise. “Your mother does not mind you reading such books?” he asked in amazement.
“I have never asked her permission,” Helene said. “But Papa encourages me, so I do not think Mama would dare express disapproval, even if she felt any.”
“I have only read The Gold Chain,” Captain Longford remarked. “But I found the plot somewhat hackneyed and the point belabored.”
“Nonsense,” Helene responded waspishly. “It was a fresh outlook on a sordid subject. I think she handled the problem of child farms and…and…”
“And…” Captain Longford asked wickedly, enjoying Helene’s discomfort.
Helene swallowed hard, finding it difficult to continue as she realized where Captain Longford had led the conversation. She saw the amused look in his eyes and continued determinedly. “…and…houses of ill repute.”
“A surprising subject for you to be knowledgeable about,” he goaded.
“An unkind thrust, Captain, but one I shall not heed. My father taught me long ago that people resort to such remarks when they cannot think of anything sensible to say. Will I see you at the Croydons’ masked ball tomorrow?” she asked, in an attempt to steer the conversation into more comfortable channels.
Captain Longford looked at her in appreciation. He had not been planning to attend, but now he was tempted. After a long pause he shook his head regretfully. “I am afraid not, for I am engaged elsewhere.”
Helene shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, hiding the disappointment she felt. “’Tis a shame, for I hear that the entertainment promises to be spectacular. Fancy, Lady Croydon has lured a band of gypsies that were encamped on Hampstead Heath to read our fortunes.”
“I am surprised that you believe in such things, Lady Helene,” he teased.
“Actually, I don’t ‘believe,’” Helene responded quickly, “but I enjoy listening to their nonsense. It is an age since I crossed anyone’s palm with silver. In fact, the last time was four years ago, and the Romany promised me adventure and excitement.”
“And…?”
“Why, the very next day my horse bolted, tossed me and I spent the next three weeks in bed with a sprained ankle.”
Captain Longford chuckled. “I hope you have better luck this time, for I would not like to think of you spending another few weeks in bed.”
He turned his attention to the horses as he swung them deftly into Hans Crescent. Minutes later they drew up in front of Lord Ambel’s house. Before he could spring down, Helene had jumped to the ground.
“Thank you, Captain Longford,” she said, a little breathlessly. “There is no need to see me to the door, for I am sure you would not wish to leave your horses.” With a careless wave she turned and disappeared inside the house, leaving Captain Longford staring after her thoughtfully.
4
HELENE was relieved that her mother was still in her bedchamber, for she did not relish having to explain why she had allowed Captain Longford to drive her home. Indeed, it would be difficult to explain, especially after her mother’s emphatic denouncement of his character.
Her heartbeat quickened as she thought of him. There was no denying she found him exceedingly attractive, but she was also acutely aware that it would be dangerous to encourage his advances. A harmless flirtation would be in order, she thought, if he were a dandy like Mr. Monroe, for there would be no danger of her losing her heart. “No,” she said resolutely to herself, “it will not do.” Shaking off a momentary depression, she asked the butler to send Amy to her. It was the housekeeper, however, who presented herself some time later.
“Is Amy ill?” Helene asked anxiously for it was unlike her maid to be absent from her post.
“No, Miss Helene,” Mrs. Capon said, as she smoothed an imaginary crease from her stiffly starched apron. “She had a message to go home. It appears as how her sister is missing. But, no doubt she’ll be back shortly.”
“Missing, Mrs. Capon? Whatever happened? Lucy is such a thoughtful girl.”
“Indeed she is, Miss Helene. As you know I have been training her myself and she has never missed a day’s work since she started here. That’s why Amy went home, to find out where she’s gone. I took the liberty of granting her permission, promising her that I would tend you.” She spoke with the ease of an old family retainer.
“Quite so, Mrs. Capon. You did the right thing,” Helene murmured, her thoughts elsewhere. It was easy to imagine the worst, especially after this afternoon’s talk of white slavery and child farms. Lucy was such a fetching little thing, and so young. “There is nothing I want immediately. Just send Amy to me as soon as she returns. Are you certain Lucy didn’t indicate where she was going?”
“Don’t you be worrying yourself, Miss Helene,” the housekeeper soothed as she helped Helene out of her dress. “I am sure that everything will be all right.”
“You are probably right,” Helene replied, although the crease between her brows remained. She unpinned her hair, allowing it to fall down her back.
“Here, let me do that,” Mrs. Capon said, taking the hairbrush from Helene. “This takes me back a bit,” she continued. “Do you remember me doing this for you when you were little?”
Helene nodded absently, her thoughts still with Lucy.
She allowed the housekeeper to fuss over her for a few more minutes before dismissing her.
“That will be all, dear Capon. I think I will lay down for a while.” She wallowed in the luxury of her old servant’s tucking her into bed as she drifted off to sleep. Once again, though, the face of Captain Longford intruded, making a deep sleep impossible. She arose, an hour later, cross with herself for being so silly.
When Amy finally appeared, Helene had quite forgotten about Lucy. However, her maid’s tear-stained face brought Lucy’s plight back to mind.
“Oh! Lady Helene,” Amy sobbed in response to Helene’s inquiry. “The most terrible thing ’as ’appened. Little Lucy ’as gone. Billy Bryant, ’e lives down the street from us, ’e said ’e saw two men approach ’er, and talk to ’er, and then the next thing she was being taken up into a coach and off they all went.”
Alarmed, Helene tried to keep calm. “Did this Billy recognize either of the men?”
“’E said as ’ow ’e’s seen them around afore. Only ’e can’t remember too much cause ’e’s a bit simple. But ’e did say they was around at the time the Williams girl went missing. I’m so frightened, Lady Helen, for I know something awful ’as ’appened. I can feel it. Lucy is too good to go off with strange men. Whatever am I going to do? My mother’s fair breaking ’er ’eart.”
Helene let Amy ramble on, realizing her maid needed that relief. She wondered what she should do. To her it was obvious what had happened, and from the way Amy was acting it seemed as though she suspected the same. The men must be white slavers. Drawing a deep breath to steady herself, she tried to calm her maid. “Come, Amy,” she said briskly. “Stop crying, while we consider what to do.”
“My poor Lucy,” Amy wailed. “I know there’s nothing we can do. She’s gone. Oh! It’s too awful to think about.”
“Would you mind if I went to Lord Ambel, Amy?” Helene asked, at a loss to know what else she could suggest. “Mayhap he will think of something.”
“Lord Ambel!” Amy uttered, awe chasing away her tears momentarily. “But…but why would ’e want to be bothered with someone so insignificant as my Lucy? No, Lady Helene, I don’t think you better.”
“Papa has spent his life helping people, Amy,” Helene said sternly. “And he will be most displeased if he discovers he has not been notified that a member of his household staff is missing.” Before Amy could protest further, Helene started for the door. “You stay here while I go and inform Papa.”
Without waiting for an answer, she left the room. The conviction with which she had just spoken evaporated, though, as she tapped on the study door and heard her father bid her enter.
“Papa,” she said tentatively, “are you busy? I have need to talk to you.”
Lord Ambel, who had been dozing in his favorite chair, roused himself. “Come in, my dear, come in. Of course I have time to talk to you.” He struggled to sit up, but his ample girth impeded his movements. He adjusted his wig, which had slipped to one side, as he watched his daughter walk toward him. Egad, he thought, she is a woman, and a beauty. Bearing in mind his wife’s talk about marriage proposals, he prepared himself to broach the subject. “Indeed, I was thinking it time we had a chat. Your mother tells me Mr. Burton is about to propose, though how she knows these things is a mystery….”
