In Bed with a Rogue (21 page)

A slow grin spread across his lips. Perhaps
exceedingly
grateful.

His eagerness faded as he considered the possible impact the evening could have on her, however. He didn’t know yet if the information Maggie had given him was real. How could he raise Helena’s hopes when there was a chance of disappointing her?

He couldn’t. He swiped a hand down his face, weariness seeping into his bones, and sank against the carriage cushion, then peered at the house once more. Before involving Helena, he should discover who resided at the town house on Walpole Street.

“Take me home,” he said with a sigh. A hollowness expanded in his chest as he realized it had been over twenty-four hours since he’d held Helena.

Very
well.
He could admit that was different too.

***

Helena listlessly twirled her parasol as she, Eve, and Lady Norwick meandered through Hyde Park with Fergus trailing behind them. He claimed he had no interest in ladies’ chitchat, but she had twice caught the Scot chuckling over one of her companions’ quips.

Eve and the Countess of Norwick were equally matched in wits, and Helena enjoyed their company a great deal.
Usually
. Today, however, all she could think on was Sebastian. She’d been trying all afternoon to inconspicuously introduce the topic of what business kept him away from her.

He had not attended charades at Lady Orham’s town house last night, and today Eve had arrived at Helena’s home with only Lady Norwick in tow. Since their encounter at the theatre, she’d seen neither hide nor hair of him. Was he done with her so quickly? She knew his attachments were short-lived, but surely not this soon.

She glanced sideways at Eve and swallowed hard. She couldn’t bring herself to ask after him for fear her companions would know how hopelessly smitten she was. It was a sickness, pining for him as she did. How had it come to this? She had been determined not to succumb to his charm like every other lady in Town, but there was no help for it. Sebastian Thorne was irresistible, and worse, he knew it.

A light honeysuckle-scented breeze grazed her hot cheeks, and she tried once again to attend to Eve and Lady Norwick’s conversation.

“Has Sir Jonathan professed his feelings for you yet?” the countess asked.

Eve’s dark lashes blinked in agitation. “Heavens, no! We’ve barely known each other a sennight.”

“There is no specific time allotment for love, dearest. One can fall in love quite quickly, isn’t that correct, Lady Prestwick?”

Helena startled at her question. “I…uh… Well, I cannot speak to such things.”

Lady Norwick’s smile was too sweet and innocent while her chocolate brown eyes sparked with mischief. “Can’t you, my dear? What a pity. I thought for certain you were woolgathering about a particular gentleman a moment ago.”

Eve covered a giggle with her hand.

“I wasn’t woolgathering.” Helena fanned herself with her free hand, her body aflame now. “I was thinking.”

The countess and Eve burst into laughter.

“Not about Lord Thorne,” she blurted and winced. “I mean, I was considering what gown to wear to Almack’s next week.”

Eve linked arms and hugged Helena to her side. “Don’t be embarrassed. I would be pleased to call you my sister.”

Even as she shook her head to dispel any notions of a future with Sebastian, warm tingles radiated within her chest. How she would love to have a lasting relationship with him and claim Eve as family, but it couldn’t be. Not unless she abandoned her dream of finding her sisters and providing a better life for them. And she would rather die than give it up.

Eve gasped, startling her from her reverie. “It’s Sir Jonathan. What is he doing here?”

“Enjoying this lovely weather, I imagine.” Lady Norwick gave her a nudge. “You may go greet him, Miss Thorne, as long as he remains a respectable distance.”

Eve didn’t require further encouragement and hurried ahead while Lady Norwick and Helena slowed their steps.

“I’ve known Sir Jonathan since I was a girl,” Lady Norwick said, “and I’ve never seen him as taken with a young lady as he is with Miss Thorne.”

“He seems like a decent man.” Sir Jonathan was untroubled by Eve’s broken betrothal and even less so by her unladylike curiosity. Helena appreciated that about him.

“He is one of the better ones, I must admit. I felt certain he and Miss Thorne would get on if only they made each others’ acquaintance.”

Helena stopped in the middle of the path, as did Lady Norwick. “You played matchmaker for Eve?”

The countess shrugged one shoulder and a pleasant pink color tinged her cheeks.

Lady Norwick had a reputation for being a force to respect, but rarely did anyone speak of her gracious spirit.

Helena brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Please don’t be offended, my lady, but what led you to help a young woman you had never met until recently?”

“I could ask you the same, Helena.”

A heated blush swept over her face. She resumed walking to avoid answering. She couldn’t admit to her agreement with Sebastian.

Lady Norwick matched her pace and entwined their arms. “Forgive me if I was too forward. Naturally, I assumed we had similar motives. I know what it’s like to be judged by others, but whereas I earned my reputation for being bad
ton
, Miss Thorne did not. If
I
was given a second chance, how much more deserving is she? Everyone deserves a second chance at happiness, don’t you agree?”

Tears pricked Helena’s eyes. The countess likely had no idea how much her words meant to Helena. Suddenly, she felt as if she had someone to confide in about her sisters. Someone who would understand and not judge. Yet, Eve needed Lady Norwick more than Helena did.

“Yes,” she said on a breath. “Eve deserves a second chance.”

And Helena could be a liability. If Society learned of her past, Helena’s association with Eve could make her an outcast again.

She shook her head slightly. She couldn’t do that to her friend.

Sebastian should know the truth about the woman he was seeking, and if he chose to withdraw his help, Helena must understand. She was willing to put her sisters above her happiness. If Sebastian put his sister ahead of Helena, she had no cause to complain.

But the prospect still hurt.

Eighteen

After a bit of assistance from his servants, Sebastian learned the town house on Walpole Street belonged to the Marquess of St. Ambrose, a bachelor every marriage-minded mother dreamed of snagging for her daughter. It wasn’t the home where he resided—St. Ambrose lived in a grander house on Park Street bordering Hyde Park—but it was rumored the marquess paid calls to the young woman letting the town house.

From all accounts, she was a great beauty who mostly kept to herself. Some speculated she was St. Ambrose’s mistress, but since she was never a nuisance to her neighbors, everyone tended to their own affairs. Despite Sebastian’s attempts to learn her name, her identity remained a mystery. This was the reason he was standing on her stoop, ready to go to the source for an answer.

Late afternoon sun reflected off a brass knocker engraved with the initial
S
. It was warm to the touch when he grasped it to rap twice. He stood with his hands linked behind his back, waiting. There were sounds of movement from within, but several moments passed before the heavy oak door creaked open. A bespectacled woman with graying hair pulled back into a tight knot blinked at him through the crack.

“Yes, sir?” Her voice quivered.

He offered a disarming smile to ease her worries and pulled a calling card from his case. “Good afternoon. I am Lord Thorne and I am here at the behest of Lady Helena Prestwick. May I speak with the lady of the house?”

The woman stared at him with parted lips. “The lady of the house, milord?”

“Your mistress, Miss Lavinia…” Helena had never supplied him with a last name. “Uh, just Lavinia, I believe. It is important I speak with her.”

Grooves in the woman’s forehead deepened, and the sound of heels clicking on the marble floor caught his attention before a soft voice reached them. “Who is it, Edith? Delivery men are to come to the back.”

A woman with a face very similar to Helena’s came up behind Edith. She shared Helena’s eye color too, but there was a jaded light to hers Helena didn’t have. “I will see to the gentleman while you return to preparing our tea.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The taller woman patted Edith on the back, then filled the doorway to block his view. “What is it you want, sir?”

“Are you Lavinia, the young woman formerly under Madam Montgomery’s employ?”

Her glare would have struck him dead if she had that power. “I am no longer in the business of entertaining,” she hissed. “You should leave at once.”

Sebastian balked. “Egads! You have misjudged the situation, miss.” How many other men had arrived at her door demanding special treatment? And she thought he was one of them. He felt slightly queasy. “I am here on Lady Prestwick’s behalf. Not to be
entertained
.”

“I don’t know Lady Prestwick, so I’ll send you on your way.”

As the door was being closed in his face, he called out. “Helena! Your sister, Helena, is looking for you.”

He was guessing at their relationship, but the strong resemblance made it clear they were family. It wasn’t unusual to have illegitimate half siblings, nor was he concerned about what Helena’s father had gotten up to.

The door froze an inch before it closed. Slowly, it eased open and frigid eyes narrowed on him. “How do you know about Helena?” she asked in a fierce whisper. “My sister died nine years ago.”

He lowered his voice to match hers even though the street was deserted. “The devil she did. She is here in London, and she has been looking for you, risking her life in Whitechapel until her search led to Madam Montgomery’s.”

The woman’s breath hitched and the moment it dawned on her that he was telling the truth showed in the softening of her face. She was a beauty, just as rumors suggested, but she lacked Helena’s warmth and hopeful air. He supposed he couldn’t blame her, though. Helena’s sister couldn’t have lived an easy life.

“Please, I just need a moment of your time.”

“Helena
is
alive,” she said more to herself than him and stepped back to allow the door to open. “Please, come in, Mr…?”

He held out the calling card Edith hadn’t taken. “Thorne.”

“I am Lavinia Kendrick.” She read the black script then glanced at him again. “We may speak in the parlor, my lord. Did you say my sister hired you to find me?”

“I volunteered my assistance. We are close friends.”

She arched an eyebrow and closed the door behind him. “I see.”

No doubt Miss Kendrick had seen a lot in her life, which accounted for her sardonic tone. She led him to the parlor and began cross-examining him with the skill of a barrister. Her distrust reminded him of Helena and the haunted look he had seen in her eyes. His patience for Miss Kendrick increased. She was another wounded bird, perhaps hurt by the same father who had hurt Helena.

“Prestwick lied,” Miss Kendrick said with a frown. “Our father received a letter a week after he let that coldhearted bastard take her. It said Helena contracted a fever and died at an inn along the way. Since we never heard from her, I assume he wouldn’t allow it. I am guessing he is dead now.”

“Prestwick is dead.”

A small smile played about the corners of her mouth. “Good.”

Questions crowded his head and he didn’t know what to ask first. Yet, even if he did know where to start, he wanted answers from Helena. He wanted her to trust him enough to share her past ordeals, and reuniting her with her sister could be the first step toward earning that trust.

“How is my sister?

“Well, but she misses you.”

Miss Kendrick nodded. “She misses who I was, and I am no longer that girl.”

Sebastian knew that wasn’t true. Helena’s only desire was to reunite with Lavinia. “She knows about you, Miss Kendrick, and she is driven to find you despite your circumstances.”

“She wants to find Cora, Pearl, and Gracie. I am a link to our sisters.”

Sebastian hid his surprise at learning Helena had more than one sister. “And do you know of their whereabouts?”

She sat up straighter, her wariness returning. “They are safe. Now I will interview you, my lord.”

He wasn’t able to answer many of the young woman’s questions, since he didn’t know what Helena’s life had been like with Prestwick. But he told Miss Kendrick about her stubborn streak, how she loved to read, her generosity with the old man and child in the rookery that evening, and how she had been dubbed the Whitechapel Angel and came to his aid. He spoke of her bravery when she fought off the footpad, and her loyalty to him and Eve when she defended them against Lady Lovelace. The more he spoke of Helena and all the ways she was unique, the more his heart swelled with admiration.

He didn’t tell her sister about the tenderness with which Helena had placed her lips against his bruised cheek, or the soft glow in her eyes when she looked at him. The way his pulse sped when she was near, or how he wanted to hold her and absorb her hurts. His throat felt tight and scratchy all of a sudden.

Maybe Eve was right. Was he falling in lovewith Helena?

“It wasn’t until a year after we received word Helena was dead that I learned the reason she had been taken.” If he thought Miss Kendrick’s eyes were cold earlier, they were shards of ice now. “Our pathetic sire had wagered her in a game of loo like she was livestock and lost, just as he always did. The gentleman came to collect his winnings the next morning.”

Sebastian cursed under his breath. More than ever, he wanted to wrap his fingers around both men’s necks. “No gentleman I know would accept that wager, much less collect the debt.”

“Which is the reason I consider him a fiend, but our father was even worse.”

What kind of depravity made a man gamble with his daughter’s freedom? He could see Helena’s reluctance to trust in a new light. The one man she should have been able to count on—her own father—had betrayed her. He couldn’t think on it without a harsh pain in his chest. He cleared his throat. “She will want to see you as soon as she learns I’ve found you.”