Julia Justiss (23 page)

Wonder in her eyes, Helena looked up at Adam. “I hardly know what to say.”

“‘Thank you’ should suffice,” Charis said with a giggle. “Have you never had a present before?”

Miss Lambarth’s gaze wandered to the window and, to Adam’s dismay, tears shimmered in her dark lashes. “Just before she…left, Mama gave me a brightly colored parrot. Father turned it loose in the garden. A hawk got it.”

While Charis and Lady Darnell gasped, she turned to offer Adam the smile that transformed her face from arresting to breathtaking. “‘Thank you’ is paltry, but it shall have to do until I can think of something better.”

“Your enjoyment—and the enjoyment your sketches will give us all—is thanks enough,” Adam replied, the glow of her gratitude warming him right to his toes.

Recovering her composure, his sister said, “Helena, will you accompany Bellemere and me to shop for fabric this morning? If my wedding clothes are to be ready before Nathan must return to Vienna, we have to begin at once!”

“Give me a few moments to change into something more suitable.” Wrapping the chalks back in their paper, she raised shining eyes to Adam. “Thank you again, Darnell.”

Absurdly pleased to have made her happy, he bowed as she walked out. “Your servant, Miss Lambarth.”

After the other ladies left, Adam proceeded to the library. Settling behind the desk, he smiled at the sight of Miss Lambarth’s book by the sofa. How glad he was to have made peace between them.

He supposed he should call on Priscilla to try to smooth over
their
disagreement. But, deciding to put off what would probably be an uncomfortable meeting, he pulled out his account ledgers. He was reading through a report from his steward when a feminine scream split the air.

Charis’s scream.

Dropping the paper and knocking his chair out of the way, he bolted up the stairs.

S
HOCKED BY
C
HARIS’S
scream into dropping the stick of charcoal with which she’d been experimenting, Helena looked back to see the girl standing on the threshold of her chamber.

“Oh, Helena!” Charis whispered. “Your back!”

Helena jerked her half-buttoned dressing gown up over her shoulders. “I’m sorry! I was about to change, but—”

At that moment Lord Darnell charged through the open door. “Charis, what is wrong?”

She turned to her brother and burst into tears.

Cursing silently as Darnell pulled his sister into his arms, Helena felt the accusing look he threw her over the girl’s shoulder almost like a blow. “Nell, help Lord Darnell carry Miss Charis to her chamber,” she ordered curtly. Sick at heart, she picked the broken charcoal off the floor and sat back down.

A few moments later the knock she’d been expecting sounded at her door and she bid Darnell enter.

“What the devil was that about?” he demanded. “I could get nothing sensible out of Charis.”

Slowly, Helena rose from her chair. Unbuttoning the
top fastenings of the dressing gown and lowering it to expose her shoulders, she turned and let him see the scars.

Swiveling to face him again, she recoiled at the shock and revulsion on his face. “I expect you understand better now why I insisted on hiring a maid out of a workhouse. And on wearing fashions that cover me to the chin.”

When still he said nothing, she added harshly, “Is it not standard practice among the best families for erring daughters to be horsewhipped?”

“It is…unspeakable,” he said, horror in his voice.

Her defiant facade beginning to crack under his scrutiny, she fought back tears and whispered, “Then let us speak no more of it.” Fingers trembling now, she turned away and buttoned the dressing gown up to her chin. When she looked back again, Darnell was gone.

A
GHAST AT HAVING DISTRESSED
C
HARIS
and unable to deal with explaining the incident to Aunt Lillian, as soon as Nell returned, Helena bade the girl assist her into a promenade gown and sent the maid to summon a hackney. She would go to Hatchards, stroll in the park while it was still unoccupied, mayhap visit the British Museum.

Lord Blanchard was to fetch Charis and Aunt Lillian to dine with his family this evening, an event Helena felt would guarantee Charis recovered from her shock. Needing time to think what she should do next before encountering any of the family again, Helena did not plan to return to St. James Square until they had all left for the evening.

But when, hours later, she wearily climbed the stairs to the library, she found Adam Darnell sitting within.

Stopping short, she said, “Darnell! I was certain you would have already gone out. Excuse me for intruding.”

Seeing again in memory his expression of distaste and horror, she wanted only to remove herself from his presence. But as she curtseyed and backed away, he rose.

“Please, Miss Lambarth, don’t go! I promised Charis I would not leave until I had spoken to you.”

Probably to demand she quit the house before the ladies returned, Helena thought. At least, ever honorable, he had the courtesy to deliver that order to her face.

Thinking to spare him what must be an unpleasant duty, she said quickly, “You needn’t say anything! I feel terrible about the…incident this morning. Please believe I never wished to distress any of you.”

Waving him to silence when he opened his lips to reply, she continued, “Having heard that avowal several times already, I hardly expect you to believe it. Suffice it to say, I’ve caused enough commotion in your household. I’ve initiated plans to move elsewhere as soon as Mr. Pendenning can obtain a suitable house. If…if you prefer that I leave immediately, I shall find a hotel—”

“Miss Lambarth!” Darnell exclaimed, finally cutting her off. Through the mist of moisture suddenly clouding her eyes, it appeared he gestured toward the sofa.

“Come warm yourself by the fire. You really must cease this business of threatening to leave us.”

While he stood watching, Helena numbly took a seat.

“First, let me offer you an apology from Charis and myself. Our reactions cannot help but have wounded you—and you obviously have been wounded enough.”

The smile she tried to give him wobbled badly. “Ah, but I was a very disobedient child.”

“Were you the devil’s spawn himself, it would not excuse such treatment!” he spat out.

“What did you tell Aunt Lillian?”

“You needn’t worry you’ve upset her. Charis, clever girl, told her she’d been pierced in a, ah, sensitive place by a pin from her gown. By the way, as soon as she recovered, she rushed back to your room, only to find you already departed. She charged me to beg you to remain with us so we might ensure no one ever harms you again.”

That expression of concern when she’d been expecting repudiation weakened Helena’s tenuous control over her emotions. “You—you are all…so kind,” she murmured, her throat aching with unshed tears.

Shaking his head, Darnell paced to the hearth before looking back at her. “I knew that day at the lawyer’s office that you had suffered. But I never imagined…No wonder your mother ran away! My God, how did you survive?”

“The beatings didn’t start until after she left—when Father discovered I’d escaped after he’d locked me in. I expect he wanted to frighten me into never trying again, though he knew ’twas unnecessary. The towns
people, believing me mad, had already returned me to him the one time I made it into the village.”

“He did stop, though. Those scars…were not recent.”

Helena smiled grimly. “I think he drove me mad in truth, a little. The last time he beat me, I grabbed the whip, determined to bear no more. Though it nearly took my thumb off, I held on, then jerked it free with my good hand. I warned him if he ever came at me again, I would use it to fight back.” She looked down at her damaged hand. “It healed badly, as you can see. If it hadn’t been for Mad Sally and her potions, I expect I would have died.”

Wonderment filled his eyes as he shook his head. “You amazing girl! Did no one suspect? No visiting relations?”

“No relations ever visited. Perhaps you understand why, when you first met me, I had little use for family.”

“I hope you know now you have one that loves you.”

Helena swallowed hard. “Thank you.” Save upon hearing of her mother’s death, she could not recall when she’d last wept. But despite her stern command to desist, one of the drops brimming at the corners of her eyes insisted on welling up and sliding down her cheek.

Though she turned her face away, Darnell came over to sit beside her. “Ah, Helena, don’t cry,” he said softly.

All her life she’d met punishment and anger with defiance. But hearing her name on Darnell’s lips for the first time, so tender it sounded like a caress, tore
at the defenses she’d erected to survive loneliness and abuse. To her dismay, that first tear was joined by another and another.

And then, without her knowing quite how it happened, she was in his arms, cradled gently against his chest. His hand stroking the back of her neck, he held her until she brought the tears under control and straightened.

“Forgive me,” she began, mortified at her weakness.

He brushed a thumb against her cheek. “It hurts my heart to think of what you’ve suffered. Can you trust me enough to come to me in future, if you should ever need help? You don’t have to be alone any more, Helena.”

She looked up into the green eyes gazing down at her, her chest tightening at the strength and goodness and honor she saw there. “Yes, Adam, I will trust you.”

As she watched, his eyes changed, their color deepening. She let her lashes drift shut as he tipped up her chin. The gentle brush of his lips against hers was as arousing as she’d imagined, yet so piercingly sweet her chest expanded so she could scarcely breathe. She had desired him before, but this feeling was somehow…different. Larger in scope, more intense.
More.

At last he drew away, easing her back against the cushions. “Remember, you’re not alone.” After once again brushing her cheek with his fingertip, he walked out.

You’re not alone….
Her mother had been so wise, pushing her to seek out this sense of acceptance and
belonging. She now had a family who had come to love her as she loved them. And Darnell—
Adam
—for whom she felt admiration, affection and a desire that made her long for his presence and his touch.

Adam, with whom she feared she had fallen in love.

A
FTER DRAGGING A GROOM OUT
early the next morning to accompany her on a gallop before it was scarcely light, Helena hurried back so she might visit Charis. Despite Adam’s reassuring words, she wanted to see her friend alone, to make sure all was right between them before they met with Lady Darnell at breakfast.

She also wanted to question Charis about Adam’s engagement. Despite indulging in a few midnight fantasies of how wonderful it might be to pursue passion and tenderness in his arms, neither admitting her love for Adam nor the fond regard he’d avowed for her altered her opinion on marriage for herself.

In the prosaic light of day, Adam’s kindness last night only emphasized the enormous gulf between the character of a true gentleman and the male who had sired her, making her all the more resolved never to risk passing his bad blood to another generation.

Blood would tell, Mad Sally had always said. Should she somehow become an honorable man’s wife—Adam’s wife—how could she subject them both to the horror of watching a child grow up to become what her father had been?

She would deny herself passion—and love—a thousand times over before she would allow that to happen.

In addition, her experience since arriving in London had demonstrated how unprepared she was to become the wife of any man from Adam’s world—unless he wanted to abandon Society for as wild and isolated a place as Lambarth Castle. Both Adam’s home here in London and his country estate at Claygate required a mistress capable of directing a large household and a hostess skilled at entertaining.

Adam had promised to protect Helena. Should she not return the favor? If she had to endure seeing him wed another, it seemed only right to try to insure he had at least a chance for happiness. Helena wasn’t sure that Miss Standish, despite her other qualifications, possessed the sweetness of character to promise him that.

As soon as she entered her friend’s chamber, Charis dismissed her maid and came over to seize Helena in an embrace. After mutual apologies and a few tears from Charis, her friend poured them each some chocolate and invited Helena to sit while she finished her toilette.

“You still look radiant!” Helena said. “The dinner with Lord Blanchard’s parents was a success?”

“Yes, they gave us their heartfelt blessing.”

“Then they are most perceptive,” Helena said with a smile. “I cannot help but notice, though, that Adam does not seem nearly as excited about his upcoming nuptials as you and Lord Blanchard did yesterday. Or perhaps he is not given to demonstrations of affection?”

Charis sighed and set down her hairbrush. “No,
Adam is usually quite affectionate. I must admit, I had hoped his inclination might lead in a different direction—but before that could happen, he offered for Priscilla. I expressed my reservations to him when he first informed me of the match. He replied that he had a high regard for Miss Standish that would deepen over time. Which is what continues to trouble me.”

“In what way?” Helena asked.

“I’ve not warmed to her—how could I, when she takes every opportunity to snipe at you? But more important, after watching them carefully on many occasions, I can detect no evidence of increasing warmth between
them.
I know she must care for Adam, but I worry that so reserved and critical a girl will never make him happy.”

Secretly glad Charis shared her opinion of Adam’s fiancée, Helena said, “If affection has not developed as he’d hoped, why not admit he made a mistake and break the engagement? It seems idiotish to me to go forward with a marriage that shows so few signs of succeeding.”

“You don’t understand. The engagement has been publicly feted at any number of balls and routs. Should Adam terminate it, Miss Standish would be humiliated, her chances of contracting another alliance severely damaged. ’Twould also be a stain on Adam’s honor to break his word. Were she twice as shrewish and cold, he would not do it.”

“Even if she will make his life a misery?” Helena asked, aghast to find Society’s rules so inflexible.

Charis sighed again. “Since nothing can be done
now to free him, I can only hope that once he gets her away from the influence of her insufferable mother and that friend of hers, Lady Cordelia, Priscilla will display more of the character that first attracted him.”

“You’re certain nothing can be done?” Helena asked. Now that Charis had confirmed her suspicions, everything within her rebelled at the idea of abandoning Adam to the emotional desert of a marriage to Priscilla.

“Not unless Miss Standish changes her mind. To jilt a gentleman, though frowned upon, is forgivable. But let us not speak any more of Adam being unhappy, which is far too distressing! I trust a merciful Providence will find some way to make things right. Come, shall we go down?”