Loving Helen (22 page)

They were among the first couples to take their turn, and as they promenaded around the circle, Samuel noted the attention of the other men straying from their partners to Helen. She’d also caught the eye of several others — men and women — around the room. Little wonder, striking as she was in white and crimson and with her halo of golden curls. He only hoped that the attention she garnered would be the right kind.

If his servants were to be believed, ever since Nicholas’s ball, the gossip had changed from berating Grace to speaking of what a good match she had made and how remarkable it was that she’d gained Lady Sutherland’s favor and tamed her son. Samuel hoped the same good favor might transfer to Grace’s sister tonight.

Silently he assessed each man present, considering them as possible suitors for Helen. Mr. Penhale was too old and stodgy; Helen would be bored in an instant — for while Samuel had at first believed her incapable of stimulating conversation, of late he’d discovered in her an animated intellect, a young lady most enjoyable to talk with, though their silence on the ride over tonight had been every bit as pleasant and comfortable as their recent conversations.

They took their places in the circle and waited for the next pairs to begin
.

Sir Vacher — too much a rake. Lord Ainsworth
—
a braggart.
Certainly none among their circle would make a good match for her. Samuel felt a bit like Nicholas as he wove in and out of the set, sending a message with his eyes to the men.
Leave Helen alone. She is not for you.

The dance went on far too long with too much switching of partners. He found himself thinking of their waltz in the nursery and how the three of them had collapsed with laughter at the end. He wondered that he had not appreciated that morning — and Helen — more.

How is it she has been under my roof these many months, yet I’ve scarcely paid her any attention?

“Are you quite well?” she asked when they stood beside each other again. “You look a bit lost this evening.”

He did feel that way, truth be told. “I am well enough,” he said. “Just assessing who is here and making sure you are safe.”

“Of course I am. I’m with you.” She smiled and stepped away again to form the star at center.

At length the dance ended, and Samuel was left feeling as if he’d been cheated somehow. He vowed to wait until later in the evening, when the dances lengthened and the tempos slowed, before asking her for another dance. At least then he might have a chance at holding her in his arms for more than a second or two at a time.

After all, we are here to convince the neighbors that I am courting her.

Samuel had scarcely escorted her to the side of the ballroom when an unfamiliar gentleman came to claim her hand. Samuel caught a fleeting look of uncertainty as she accepted and left the protection of his side. He attempted not to scowl as the man led her away, then thought the better of it and scowled openly. It was exactly the sort of thing Nicholas would have done — and had done — in proclaiming his intent toward Grace. Though somehow, Samuel doubted he looked as foreboding.

“Are you feeling well this evening, Mr. Preston?” Lady Ellis stood before him, waving her fan as she spoke. “Are you overheated? It is rather warm in here. I must instruct Mr. Ellis to have the servants open some windows.”

“The temperature is not bothering me,” Samuel assured her, prying his eyes from Helen to look at his hostess. “Your ballroom is lovely, as are you.” He bent, kissing the back of her hand.

“Not as lovely as the young lady you’ve brought with you this evening.” Mrs. Ellis leaned closer, holding her fan up in front of her face, as if that would hide their conversation from anyone who might be watching. “Tell me — is she the sister of the girl Lord Sutherland disgraced?”

“She is the sister of Lord Sutherland’s fiancée,” Samuel corrected, grateful thus far that Nicholas had had the good sense to keep his mouth shut about the broken engagement.

“And did she accompany you to the theatre recently?” Mrs. Ellis asked, poorly feigning a look of innocent curiosity.

Samuel narrowed his eyes and pretended shrewdness as he looked at Mrs. Ellis. “Guilty as charged. It appears we have been caught.”
Perfect.
“Though I hope you realize that Miss Helen’s brother was also seated in our box. She was properly chaperoned throughout the night.”
Excepting our hasty carriage ride.

“Of course.” The fan flapped rapidly. “And tonight? Did he accompany you in your carriage?”

Drat.
He’d been remiss as to endanger Helen’s reputation by driving with her alone. He pasted on a smile. “Unfortunately, her brother is away at the moment. We took the open-top sleigh, so as to be in sight of the driver and others at all times.”

Mrs. Ellis, with her love of gossip and fever for scandal, would realize this was still a significant breach of etiquette.

“And I suppose you would enjoy having others admire her at your side,” she said. “Quite a beauty, isn’t she?” Mrs. Ellis watched Helen dancing. “A good thing if she is in want of a husband. I hear their father died in shame, leaving the family penniless.”

Their father lived in shame.
“Helen and her siblings have been estranged from their father for some time. Previously they lived with their grandfather, the late Duke of Salisbury. As to being penniless, that is not at all true. He left them an inheritance.”

“Oh, I see.” Mrs. Ellis snapped her fan shut.

Samuel could tell that he had deflated her enthusiasm.

“Will they be staying at your guesthouse much longer?” she asked.

Nosy, nosy.
Samuel searched the dance floor for Helen and her partner, then chose his words carefully. “That depends. Grace, of course, will not stay much longer — only until the wedding. And Christopher is eager to be out on his own. Whether Helen goes with him remains to be seen.” The violins lingered on the closing notes of the song. “If you will excuse me, Mrs. Ellis.” Samuel bowed, then walked briskly across the room to intercept Helen as she bade her partner farewell.

Samuel took her elbow and guided her toward the refreshment table. “How are you?”

“Very well, excepting my toes.” She looked ruefully at her slippers.

“Not everyone can dance as gracefully as I do?” he teased.

“Thank heavens for that, or every other dance partner would make me dizzy until I collapsed at the end of each piece.”

“I believe I have just been insulted.” He noted her rosy cheeks as he handed her a drink.

“Not at all.” Helen peered at him over the top of her cup. “On the contrary, our dance in the nursery was the finest I have enjoyed.”

Our dance.
“We’ll see if you feel that way at the end of the evening.” He looked past her to see two men approaching. “Drink that quickly. I think your respite is about to end.”

Helen swallowed, then lowered her cup as she turned to face the newcomers, Baron Edwards and Mr. Barlow. Samuel assessed them as they made their introductions. Barlow seemed a decent sort of fellow. He owned property a few miles up the road. Samuel had never known him to be any trouble. But he hadn’t known him to be anything extraordinary, either.

And Helen deserves extraordinary.

Edwards, on the other hand, had obvious flaws. His dress and manner were flamboyant to the point of distraction. Samuel found himself looking away so as to avoid a headache from the bright purple vest. He hoped very much that the baron would not ask Helen to dance, as the color clashed terribly with her gown.

He could tell each was on the verge of asking her for the next set, and he wondered what was delaying them and whether there was some game between them. The thought both annoyed and alarmed him, and before Samuel had quite realized what he was doing, he’d taken Helen’s cup and set it aside.

He held out his arm to her. “You promised the next dance, remember?”

If she was astonished, she hid it well and placed her hand upon his arm. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, gentlemen.”

Samuel led her away, though not before overhearing Baron Edwards say to Mr. Barlow, “But they have already danced.”

“At least it is not another quadrille,” Samuel said, guiding her to the end of the set that had formed in the center of the ballroom.

“What have you against the quadrille?” she asked.

“Nothing, when I am dancing with a young lady whose company I do not enjoy.” They faced each other.

“Am I to assume that you enjoy my company, then?” Helen asked.

“Very much.” Samuel felt his heart plummet as he realized the truth of his answer.

We are only acting.
She
is but acting. And doing far too fine a job of it.

He studied her face for any sign of concern or tiredness. “How are you feeling — truly?”

“Disappointed,” Helen confessed.

Not what he’d expected to hear. “I don’t understand.”

“All this time, I was too frightened to attend the theatre or a ball or party because I was afraid of men like Sir Crayton and my father. And though I did see Crayton at the theatre, and it
was
awful, his presence did not ruin the night for me. The performance was so much more than I had imagined — the whole evening felt magical.” She smiled as she remembered.

“I suppose I expected a ball to be just as glorious as the theatre,” Helen said. “But so far, I have only walked around a circle with you, had my toes stepped on, and my eyes offended.”

Samuel followed her gaze to the baron’s overly bright ensemble.

“You do not care for the quadrille either,” he said, amused at her confession. “As for the other, I am afraid you are learning the sad realities of a ball. I am sorry that it is a disappointment. Perhaps if we attended a larger gathering in London.”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe so. Lord Sutherland’s ball was more what I had imagined, and it was not so very large.”

“What was it about his ball that pleased you?” Samuel asked. “I understood that you did not stay long.”

“I did not.” She looked away, and he was reminded of the woman she’d been just a short while ago. “Before I left, I enjoyed watching Grace and Lord Sutherland dance the waltz. The way they looked at each other was so …”

“Ghastly?” he suggested. At the time, he’d found Nicholas’s blatant display of affection overbearing. However, since then his opinion had changed somewhat.
If given the same opportunity would I not dance a waltz with Helen?

“It was personal
.
” A smile touched her lips.

“Ah,” Samuel said, beginning to think he might understand. “And you believed all balls to be as intimate as that waltz?”

“No. I think I realized that was unique, but a woman does dream and imagine …”

A few weeks ago, he would not have believed that she ever dreamed or imagined about anything to do with balls or men.

She only needed to realize that not all of us are a disease.

The music began, and they met at the center. Recalling Nicholas’s actions at the ball where Samuel had first met Grace, he took every opportunity to be close to Helen. His hand lingered on her waist as they turned. He caught her eye each time they passed. He touched her hand, then squeezed it gently each time before letting go. The dance had a large set, and the longer they danced, the more her face became flushed. When at last it was their turn to promenade beneath the bridge, he whispered to her.

“I am the envy of every man here with you as my partner.”

Her cheeks reddened so much that they nearly matched the beading on her dress. He winked at her just before the bridge ended and they parted.

“Mr. Preston,” she scolded when they met once more. “You are being quite —
personal
tonight. I am not certain what to make of your behavior.”

“That’s all right,” Samuel said. “Mrs. Ellis knows
exactly
what to make of it, and she is spreading her opinion of us far and wide.”

Helen followed his gaze to their hostess, who was ensconced behind her fan on the far side of the room. “Oh dear.”

“Do not worry. She will be talking of
us
, not of you.” He’d assured that by asking Helen to dance again so soon. “We have satisfied her curiosity in inviting us this evening by giving her much to speculate about.”

“Let’s hope that gossip reaches Lord Sutherland.”

“Indeed,” Samuel agreed, sobered by the reminder of what they were about.

The dance, though long, ended too soon, as far as he was concerned. Reluctantly, he allowed another neighbor to claim her hand, then stood brooding, knowing it would be some time before he could dance with her again. He supposed he ought to dance with some of the other women, but the idea held no appeal.

The evening passed slowly for him as he stood on the edge of the room, watching Helen. In the past while attending such events, he stayed only a short while, leaving after a dance with one or two ladies. After that, the reminder of all he was missing, plus an overwhelming longing to have Elizabeth at his side, inevitably sent him home early to an evening spent staring at her portrait and feeling his loss anew. Balls had become a sort of self-torture, which he avoided as much as possible.

Not until his harvest ball last September had he hosted any sort of party after Elizabeth’s passing. He hadn’t had the heart or stomach for it earlier. Only with his interest in Grace and her imminent arrival had he decided to hold a ball. It had been a dismal failure almost from the very start. Nicholas’s untimely arrival and then abrupt departure — with a very ill Grace in his arms — had sent most of his guests home early, feeling subdued. And after allowing Nicholas to take Grace with him, Samuel had felt more alone than ever. He’d had his few years of being happily married. He was blessed to have a daughter. And he still had a lifetime of empty evenings and sleeping alone to look forward to.

The familiar melancholy stole over him as he watched Helen glide about the floor. Silently, he found fault with every one of her partners, though were he to have given voice to his complaints, they would have rung hollow. Many were good fellows and would make a fine match for Helen. If she married someone here, she would remain close to Grace as well — assuming their ruse worked and Nicholas and Grace ended up married.