by Anne Herries
‘You are very kind, sir,’ Mrs Henderson said, but her manner was stiff and Helene sensed that she was displeased.
She looked at her mama as they went to fetch their cloaks. ‘Is something the matter, Mama? You do not dislike Lord Coleridge?’
‘I am sure he is quite respectable and there is nothing to dislike in his manner or his person,’ Mrs Henderson replied. ‘But I think you should be careful, my love. I do not wish to see you hurt.’
‘Why?’ Helene asked, her throat tight with suppressed emotion. ‘Has he done something that makes you disapprove of him.’
‘Of course not.’ Mrs Henderson frowned at her. ‘You cannot have forgotten what happened to me, Helene? I know that you have been well received in society, but marriage to an aristocrat is another matter. You cannot imagine that Lord Coleridge’s family would accept you?’
‘I am not ashamed of Grandfather,’ Helene said, a militant sparkle in her eyes. ‘You have told me that he was a decent man and I will not allow the fact that he owned a tannery to be a disadvantage. An honest hard-working man is the equal of any in the land.’
‘You may think so, Helene. There are others in society who would not feel the same. I have not made a secret of my parentage. My mother was the daughter of a younger son and brought up as a lady, but my father had no education to speak of and was looked down on by Mama’s family. You know that your papa’s family shunned me. When he died I was left to struggle alone. Had my brother not taken us in, we might have ended in the workhouse.’
‘Papa’s family were unkind and ungenerous,’ Helene told her. ‘If I ever had the chance I should like to tell Papa’s father what I think of him—but you should not concern yourself, Mama. I dare say Lord Coleridge will not even think of asking me to marry him. If he did, I should naturally tell him the truth.’
‘Oh, Helene, be careful,’ her mother warned. ‘I shall not forbid you to think of him. If he should ask, you must of course tell him the truth—but be prepared for his disapproval. He comes from a proud family and may well feel that he could not marry a girl of your background.’
Helene said no more on the subject.
Later, as she lay drifting into sleep, it occurred to her that her background might be a disadvantage if she wished to marry a man of Lord Coleridge’s standing. She had always thought that she did not wish for such a marriage; the image she’d carried of a worthy man who would be grateful to have her at his side as his helpmeet was still strong, but of late she had begun to think too much of a handsome gentleman with laughing eyes.
Helene did not think that she would wish to spend all her life going from one entertainment to another. She loved to dance and was enjoying her visit to London very much, but life should be about more than enjoying oneself surely?
It was all very perplexing, for she owed it to her mother to marry well. Mama was unhappy living in her brother’s home. If Helene were fortunate enough to secure a man of some means, he would naturally provide for Mama. Yet the idea of marrying Mr Bradwell or some of her other acquaintance was not a pleasing one. Only one man made her heart leap when they met.
She tossed restlessly on her pillow. It was all so foolish! She was almost sure that Lord Coleridge was not in the least interested in making her an offer, so why should she lose sleep over the idea?
Chapter Four
‘I was sorry you felt unwell last evening,’ Helene said the next morning. She had visited Amelia in her bedchamber, finding her sitting up in bed wearing a very pretty lace peignoir. ‘Are you feeling better this morning?’
‘Yes, much better,’ Amelia told her. ‘I do not know why I should have had a headache last evening. I do not often suffer from them.’ A little sigh escaped her. ‘I shall get up later. I thought we might go visiting this afternoon. We should pay a few calls—if you have nothing better to do?’
‘I have promised to fetch a book from the library for Mama this morning,’ Helene replied. ‘I should be happy to run any errands you have, Amelia—and I should like to go visiting with you this afternoon. Emily and I have been invited to drive out with Lord Coleridge tomorrow. Did you know that he is one of the patrons of a children’s home? At least, he has not actually said so, but I think he must be for he takes a great interest in the children.’
‘Yes, I did know. He set it up himself, but I know he does not speak of his good works in company,’ Amelia said and smiled. ‘We have sat together on various committees on occasion and I know he takes an interest in the plight of unfortunate children.’
‘Emily told me about the home you funded,’ Helene said. ‘I should like to visit that one day, if I may?’
‘Of course, if you wish it—though this was supposed to be a pleasure visit, Helene. Are you sure that you wish to concern yourself with such things? Some of the children are quite well now that they have enough to eat—but some of them will never recover from their unfortunate beginnings. It can be heartrending to see them, especially those crippled by poor diet and disease.’
‘That is sad and all the more reason to help if one can. I should always be willing to help in any way you think I might, Amelia.’
‘Well, there is nothing for the moment, though I am planning a charity ball at the end of the Season. Perhaps you would like to help Emily write out the invitations? I have a shocking hand. Emily does it well, but there will be a great many to do, for we must invite everyone. There is no charge, of course, but many of the guests will make generous donations to the cause. I find that even those who do not concern themselves with these things are willing to give a few guineas if one asks.’
‘Yes, of course I shall help,’ Helene agreed at once, though she had hoped she might be given something more taxing. ‘Is there anything I may do for you today?’
‘Nothing, thank you,’ Amelia told her. ‘I shall see you at nuncheon, dearest.’
Helene nodded and went downstairs. Emily was waiting for her and they went out together, pleased to find that it was yet another warm day. They were very comfortable in each other’s company and talked all the way to the library, laughing and enjoying the outing. It was when they stopped to look in the window of a fashionable milliner that Helene became aware that someone was standing a few feet away, staring at them. She turned her head to look at the gentleman. He was dressed in a style that had been fashionable some years previously, though his clothes were of the best quality. He was a man of perhaps seventy years. When he doffed his hat to her, Helene saw that his hair was snowy white.
As he turned and walked across the road to where a rather old-fashioned carriage was waiting, Helene touched Emily’s arm. ‘Do you know that gentleman? He was staring at us just now.’
Emily turned her head to look. She frowned and then shook her head. ‘No, I do not think so. I believe I have seen that crest before… I think he must be the Duke of Annesdale, but I cannot be certain. I wonder why he was looking at us?’
‘It was a little odd. He doffed his hat to me when he realised that I had noticed him. I am sure I have never seen him in company.’
‘If it was Annesdale, it is unlikely you would have seen him in company. I believe he belongs to the court set, and was once an adviser to his Majesty—but he seldom comes to London these days. He is said to be a recluse, especially since his eldest son died without child. He has no heir…’ Emily frowned as she looked at a bonnet in the milliner’s window. ‘Do you see the way that bonnet is trimmed, Helene? I think I may buy some ribbons for my straw and trim it in just that way.’
Helene looked at the bonnet. ‘Yes, it is very pretty. I like the pink ribbons, but you could use almost any colour.’
‘I was thinking of blue, to match my best pelisse,’ Emily said. ‘If you do not mind, I should like to call at the haber-dasher on the way home.’
‘Of course not,’ Helene agreed immediately. ‘I think I may buy some green ribbons. It is so easy to change the style of a bonnet with a new ribbon.’
They walked on in perfect harmony, th
e slight incident forgotten. However, when she was changing for the afternoon, Helene thought about the gentleman she had seen watching them earlier. Was he really the Duke of Annesdale—and why had he been so interested in two young ladies looking at bonnets?
The afternoon was spent calling on ladies of their acquaintance. Some were at home and they went in to take refreshment and gossip about inconsequential things. They did not spend more than twenty minutes anywhere, and at two houses they merely left their cards. It was past five when they returned home to find a small pile of visiting cards on the salver in the hall.
Amelia flicked through them. ‘This note is for you, Helene. Marie, my dear—there is a letter for you. Nothing for you, Emily. The rest are simply calling cards. Mr Sinclair called and says he hopes to see us this evening.’
‘I was not expecting anything,’ Emily said, and for a moment her eyes were bleak, but in another moment she was smiling. ‘If you will excuse me, I shall go up now for I have a bonnet I wish to trim—unless you need me, Amelia?’
‘No, there is nothing I need for the moment,’ Amelia told her. ‘I have drunk far too much tea, so I think I shall go to my room and rest for a while before I change.’
‘I shall do the same,’ Mrs Henderson said.
‘May I come with you?’ Helene said to Emily. ‘I should like to see how you intend to trim your bonnet.’
‘Of course,’ Emily said. ‘But do you not wish to read your note?’
‘It is from Miss Marshall,’ Helene said. ‘She said that she would be inviting me to a picnic soon. I dare say it may be that.’
‘Then it will keep until later,’ Emily said. ‘Why do you not fetch your own bonnet and we may see what we can contrive between us?’
It was more than two hours later, as Helene was dressing for the evening that someone knocked at her bedroom door. It opened almost at once and Mrs Henderson came in. She was looking anxious, a little flustered, as she told the maid to leave them and return in ten minutes.
‘Is something wrong, Mama?’ Helene looked at her. ‘Your letter was not bad news?’
‘My letter…’ Mrs Henderson frowned. ‘It was of no account. Someone I have not seen for many years asked if I would be at home tomorrow. He wishes to call on me. I was wondering—did you tell me that you and Emily would be out most of tomorrow?’
‘Yes, Mama. Lord Coleridge is taking us to visit his orphanage.’
‘Ah, yes, I thought it was something of the sort.’ An expression of relief entered her eyes. ‘What was your own letter, Helene? Anything I should know about?’
‘It was from Miss Marshall. She has invited me to a picnic next week.’
‘Her brother is Captain Paul Marshall, is he not?’ Mrs Henderson’s expression was thoughtful. ‘I thought him a rather pleasant young man when we met the other evening. The family is not wealthy, but I believe he has expectations from his grandfather. It would not be a grand match, but all the better for that I think.’
‘Mama! It is an invitation to a picnic. Nothing more.’
‘I was making an observation,’ Mrs Henderson said. ‘There is time enough yet for you to meet someone you like, Helene. However, I beg you not to waste your opportunities. Once this visit is over you will have precious little—unless one of your uncle’s friends should offer for you. Edgar told me that Colonel Blake rather liked you but I wanted something better than a man twice your age with a brood of children.’
‘I would not marry the colonel if he asked.’
‘No, I did not think you would—but you must marry someone.’ Her mama sighed. ‘I do not wish to seem hasty, Helene, but you know our position. I cannot afford to support a home of our own and I am not sure how long we can impose on Edgar’s good nature. He made it plain to me before we left his house that he expected you to be settled before we returned.’
‘I do know that I have a duty to marry respectably, Mama,’ Helene said softly. ‘I hope that the right person will offer for me, but as yet no one has made me an offer. We have been in town not quite two weeks, Mama.’
‘I know. As I said, I do not wish to push you into anything—but think carefully if you should receive an offer. I speak only for your good, my love. I do not wish you to be in my position.’
‘I promise you that if I receive an offer I feel to be acceptable, I shall not refuse it, Mama,’ Helene said, her cheeks hot. ‘Who is the gentleman who wishes to call on you?’
‘His name is not important, for I do not wish to receive him,’ Mrs Henderson replied. ‘Well, I have kept you long enough. I have decided that I shall rest this evening and read the book you fetched for me. You will be well enough with Amelia and Emily.’
‘Are you unwell, Mama?’
‘I am quite well, my love. I simply feel that I would prefer to stay at home this evening. You may ring for your maid. I shall leave you to finish dressing.’
Helene frowned as her mother went out, closing the door behind her. She was certain that something had upset her. She seemed on edge, uneasy—and she was clearly anxious for Helene to find a suitable husband. Was it only because she did not wish to return to her brother’s house or was there something she wasn’t telling Helene?
She had a feeling that her mother had lied to her about the letter she’d received that day. She did not know why she should lie, but something made her a little uneasy as she went down to join the others that evening. What was Mama hiding from her—and why?
Helene was pleased to see that Lord Coleridge was present when they arrived at the card party. They were a little late—they had also attended a soirée first and therefore arrived just as supper was being served. It was quite usual for guests to arrive later in the evening, because there were so many events in the social calendar that it was sometimes only possible to spend a part of the evening with one set of friends before moving on to another.
‘I had begun to think that you were not coming,’ Max said as he joined Helene at the buffet table. ‘I should have been sorry to miss you, though since I was promised to Lady Sarah Annersley and Mr Hardwick for the first part of the evening, I could not have spent much time with you. Do you intend to stay long enough for a hand of cards? If so, you may make up a four with Sinclair and Miss Trevor and myself later.’
‘I believe Amelia intends to stay until eleven, so if that is time enough…’
‘Ample. We are not serious gamblers. We play for pin money and amusement only.’
‘Then I shall be delighted to join you, sir.’
‘Do you think you could bear to call me Coleridge? At least in private.’
‘Yes, if you wish it,’ Helene said and blushed. ‘My name is Helene, as you well know.’
‘Very well, Helene.’ Max grinned at her. ‘When we are alone like this I shall call you by your name. You have not changed your mind about tomorrow?’
‘No, indeed!’ Helene said. ‘I am looking forward to it very much. I think it will be most instructive, for I take a great interest in these things.’
‘It will be a pleasant drive, I believe, for I think the weather is set fair for the time being.’
Helene found herself a part of a group of Lord Coleridge’s friends as she ate a delicious supper. Soon afterwards, they moved back to the card room and she was soon engrossed in a light-hearted game of whisk. With Toby Sinclair as her partner, Helene pitted her wits against Max and Miss Trevor. Lord Coleridge took the first hand, but Helene trumped the second and third. The fourth was hard fought, but eventually went to Toby.
They all laughed and declared that they would call it quits for the evening. ‘I have seldom enjoyed a game more,’ Miss Trevor said as they rose from the table. ‘It is almost a pity to leave, but I have a busy day tomorrow.’
‘Yes,’ Helene agreed. ‘So do Emily and I, so it is time we went home.’
She said good night to Toby and then turned to Lord Coleridge, offering her hand. ‘I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, sir.’
‘Sweet dreams,’ he repl
ied and surprised her by lifting her hand to kiss it. ‘I shall be prompt in the morning.’
Helene smiled and withdrew her hand, her pulses racing wildly. It was not the first time he had kissed her hand, but something had been different this time—or perhaps she had imagined it.
Helene slept well that night, but her maid had instructions to wake her early and she was dressed in a green carriage gown by the appointed time. Emily came downstairs a few seconds after Helene. She was wearing a dark blue pelisse over a pale grey gown, her bonnet trimmed in the new way with matching blue ribbons. Helene thought that she had seldom seen her look more attractive. They hardly had time to exchange a greeting before the doorknocker sounded and it was opened to admit both Lord Coleridge and Toby Sinclair.
‘Nothing would do but that Toby should come, too,’ Max told them, mischief lurking in his eyes. ‘He has his curricle. I hope that you will agree to drive with him, Miss Barton?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Emily agreed easily, a faint colour in her cheeks. ‘It is such a beautiful day that we shall do much better with an open carriage.’
‘We thought so,’ Max agreed. His gaze turned on Helene. ‘Miss Henderson—shall we?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Helene replied, her heart fluttering as she saw his intent look. She followed him outside to where the horses and carriages were waiting, held by their grooms. Max offered his hand, helping Helene into the curricle. He climbed in beside her and Jemmy scrambled up at the back as Max gave the order to move off.
Helene looked about her as they drove through the town, leaving the better houses behind as they passed through meaner streets. Here the gutters were choked with filth and the stench was often unpleasant. It was early yet and the streets were still fairly empty. A milkmaid carried her yoke, crying out her wares. Servants came out of the houses with jugs or cans to buy from her. A fish coster was pushing his barrow over cobblestones, the rattle of wheels adding to the general noise of the city as it began to wake, but as yet there were few ladies or gentlemen taking the air.