Marrying Winterborne (21 page)

Helen was amused. “You know all about women, don't you?”

“I wouldn't say that,
cariad
. But I know what they like to spend their money on.”

Turning sideways, Helen laid her head on his shoulder. “I'll persuade Lady Berwick to invite you for
dinner as soon as we're settled in London.” She sighed. “It will be difficult to see you and behave in a formal manner.”

“Aye, you'll have to keep your hands to yourself.”

She smiled and kissed his chest. “I'll try.”

Rhys fell silent for a minute before saying abruptly, “I don't like the connection between Lady Berwick and Vance. I'll tell Trenear to make it clear to her that I don't want Vance to come within a mile of you or the twins.”

Helen fought to remain relaxed, although the remark had chilled her. To meet her real father—the prospect was horrifying—and yet she was curious about him. Was it wrong to be curious? “No, I wouldn't want that either.” Her heart had begun to beat unpleasantly fast. “Does Mr. Vance have any family?”

“His wife died of pneumonia last year. They had no surviving children—all were stillborn. The rest of his relations live far north and don't usually come to town.”

“How ironic that he should have an illegitimate daughter by your friend's wife, but no legitimate children of his own.” A shadow of sadness fell over her. “I wonder if the poor little thing has survived.”

“Better if she hasn't,” Rhys said flatly. “Any child of his is demon spawn, and would come to no good.”

Helen stiffened, even though she understood why he said it.

Theirs was a culture in which blood meant everything. Society itself was founded on the principle that a person's bloodline determined his entire life—his morals, temperament, intelligence, status, everything he would ever accomplish. People couldn't go against the blood of their ancestors—their futures had already been decided by the past. It was why so many
blue bloods thought of marrying commoners as a degradation. It was why a successful self-made man with five hundred years of low ancestry would never be respected as much as a peer. It was why people believed that criminals, lunatics, and fools would only beget more of themselves.

Blood will tell.

Feeling the change in her body, Rhys lowered her to the bed and leaned over her, with her head resting in the crook of his elbow. “What's the matter?”

She was slow to answer. “Nothing, only . . . you sounded rather callous just now.”

Rhys was quiet for a moment. “I don't like the side of me that Vance brings out, but there's no help for it. We won't speak of him again.”

As he settled beside her, Helen closed her eyes and swallowed back the pressure of tears. Miserably she wished she could talk to someone about the situation. Someone besides Quincy, who had made his opinion clear. Helen wished she could confide in Kathleen. But Kathleen already had more than enough worries heaped on her plate, and in her condition, she didn't need another.

Her thoughts were interrupted as Rhys gathered her against his warm body. “Rest now, sweetheart,” he whispered. “When you wake in the morning, I promise your ill-tempered beast will have turned back into a man again.”

T
HE NEXT DAY WAS
consumed with a fury of packing as the servants frantically filled trunks, portmanteaus, dressing-cases, valises, and hatboxes for every member of the family except West. As it happened, Kathleen, Devon, Sutton, the valet, and Clara, the lady's maid, would have to depart for Bristol by train that very evening. They would spend the night at a port hotel, and catch a steamer to Waterford the next morning. At Rhys's request, the transport office at Winterborne's had planned their trip with meticulous attention to detail.

A few minutes before departing for Alton Station, Kathleen found Helen in her bedroom, packing a small valise to be carried by hand.

“Darling, why are you doing that?” Kathleen asked breathlessly. “Clara should have taken care of it.”

“I offered to help,” Helen replied. “Clara needs a few more minutes to pack her own belongings.”

“Thank you. Goodness, it's been a madhouse. Have you and the twins finished packing your things for London?”

“Yes, we leave in the morning with Mr. Winterborne and Lady Berwick.” Helen opened the valise, which sat on the bed, and displayed its contents. “Come have a look—I hope I've thought of everything.”

She had packed Kathleen's favorite shawl of colorful ombré-shaded wool, a jar of salted almonds, a notebook and pencil, a sewing kit with tiny scissors and pincers, a hairbrush, and a rack of pins. She had also included extra handkerchiefs and gloves, a jar of cold cream, a bottle of rosewater, a drinking cup, a tin of lozenges, an extra pair of linen drawers, a little purse jingling with coins, and a three-volume novel.

“The twins tried to persuade me to include a pair of pistols, in case your steamer should be overtaken by pirates,” Helen said. “It fell to me to point out that pirates haven't sailed the Irish Sea for two and a half centuries.”

“How disappointing. I'm sure I would have made short work of them. Oh, well—in lieu of adventure, at least I'll have a novel to read.” Picking up one of the volumes, Kathleen read the title and began to laugh. “
War and Peace
?”

“It's long and very good,” Helen explained, “and I knew you hadn't read it yet, since we've been keeping it above the sixth shelf in the library. And even if Tolstoy does tend to sour one on marriage, as Lady Berwick claims, you're already married and it's too late.”

Still chuckling, Kathleen placed the book back into the valise. “Nothing could sour me on marriage, after the way Devon has been with me. Steady as the polar star, and so very tender. I've discovered that I need him even more than I thought.”

“He needs you also.”

Kathleen closed the valise and gave her an affectionate glance. “I'll miss you so much, Helen. But it will make my heart lighter to know that you and the twins will be enjoying yourselves in London. I expect Mr. Winterborne will be at Ravenel house often, and
he'll do anything short of performing backward somersaults if it would make you happy.” She paused before adding quietly, “He loves you, you know. It's obvious.”

Helen didn't know how to reply. She longed to pour out her heart, and confide that no matter how much Rhys loved her, it wouldn't be enough to overcome the terrible fact of who she was. It would devastate him when he found out.

Forcing a smile, she averted her face, affecting shyness.

In a moment, Kathleen's arms went around her. “This will be a happy time for you, darling. You'll have no trouble with Lady Berwick. She's the most honorable woman I've ever known, and the wisest. You and the twins must trust and rely on her while we're gone.”

“I will.” Helen hugged her tightly. “Don't worry about anything. We'll have a relaxing and pleasant time while we wait for you to return.”

A
NYONE WHO HAD
witnessed the Ravenel family's drawn-out good-byes would have been forgiven for assuming the group was about to be separated for a period of years instead of weeks. Fortunately, Lady Berwick, who would have deplored the display of emotion, was in her room at the time. Rhys, for his part, had tactfully elected to withdraw to the library to allow the family privacy.

Both Pandora and Cassandra tried to be light and amusing, but when it came time to say farewell, they both became tearful and hugged Kathleen simultaneously, until one could hardly see her small form sandwiched between them. For the better part of a year, Kathleen had treated the twins with a mixture
of interest and affection that was undeniably maternal in nature. The twins would miss her sorely.

“I wish we were going with you,” Pandora said unsteadily.

Cassandra gave a little sob.

“There, there,” came Kathleen's voice from amid the girls' enveloping embrace. “We'll be together soon, dear ones. In the meantime, you'll have a lovely time in London. And I'll be coming back with a beautiful horse for each of you—just think of that!”

“What if my horse isn't a good sailor?” Cassandra asked.

Kathleen tried to reply, but since she was still engulfed by the twins, it was difficult to make herself heard.

Amused, Devon stepped forward and pried his wife out of the enthusiastic tangle of arms. “The horses will have padded stalls onboard the ship,” he explained. “There'll also be wide canvas belts underneath them, like hammocks, to keep them from foundering or falling. I'll stay belowdecks with the horses to keep them calm.”

“So will I,” Kathleen added.

Devon gave her a warning glance. “As we discussed earlier, my job during the return voyage will be to take care of the horses, while your job is to take care of my future son or daughter.”

“I'm not an invalid,” Kathleen protested.

“No,” he said, “but you're the most important thing in the world to me, and I won't risk your safety.”

Crossing her arms, Kathleen tried to look indignant. “How am I supposed to argue with that?”

Devon smiled and kissed her soundly. “You can't.”
Turning to the twins, he took them both in his arms, and kissed the tops of their heads. “Good-bye, imps. Try not to cause too much trouble for Lady Berwick, and take care of Helen.”

“It's time to leave,” West said from the doorway. “Are you certain you don't need me to accompany you to the station?”

Devon grinned at his brother. “Thank you, but the carriage will be crowded enough as it is. Moreover, I don't want to take you away when you should be acting as host to Lady Berwick.”

“Quite right,” West replied blandly, but as he turned, he executed a discreet hand gesture meant only for Devon's gaze.

“Kathleen,” Pandora said, “Cousin West did that thing with his finger again.”

“It was a hand cramp,” West said quickly, and shot a narrow-eyed glance at Pandora.

Kathleen grinned and went to put her arms around his neck. “West,” she said fondly, “whatever are you going to do when all of us leave you in peace?”

Sighing, West kissed her forehead. “I'll miss you, damn it.”

B
EFORE THE REST
of the family departed the next morning, West drew Helen aside for a private conversation. They walked slowly to the conservatory, a room of glass and stone that was lushly crowded with potted palms and ferns. The glazed windows revealed a nearby stand of Weeping Beech trees, their pendulous branches draping and sagging as if exhausted by the tribulations of winter. A flock of plump orange-and-gray bramblings descended from the ash-colored sky to feed on the carpet of beech mast around the gnarled trunks.

“It occurs to me,” West said, ducking his head to keep from colliding with a hanging basket filled with mixed plants, “that this is the first time you and the twins will have stayed in London for more than a night with no family to look after you.”

“There's Lady Berwick,” Helen pointed out.

“She's not family.”

“Kathleen thinks well of her.”

“Only because Lady Berwick took her in after her parents tried to set her out on a street corner with a sign saying F
REE
C
HILD
hung around her neck. Oh, I know Kathleen regards her as the fount of all wisdom and benevolence, but you and I are both aware that this isn't going to be easy. The countess and Pandora will go at it beak-and-claw the entire time.”

Helen smiled up at him, seeing the concern in his dark blue eyes. “It's only for a month. We'll learn how to get on with her. And Mr. Winterborne will be nearby.”

West's frown deepened. “That doesn't make me feel any better.”

Perplexed, Helen asked, “What are you concerned about?”

“That you'll be manipulated and taken advantage of until you feel like you've been flattened in a washing mangle.”

“Mr. Winterborne won't take advantage of me.”

West snorted. “You only say that because he already has.” Taking Helen by the shoulders, he looked into her upturned face. “Little friend, I want you to be cautious, and remember that London is not a magical land of happiness and cake-shops, and every stranger is not a hero in disguise.”

Helen gave him a reproachful glance. “I'm not
that
unworldly.”

One of his brows arched. “Are we sure about that? Because the last time you were there, you decided to gallivant off to Winterborne's unaccompanied, and—oddly enough—returned home thoroughly deflowered.”

Her color heightened. “He and I made a bargain.”

“There was no need for a bargain. He would have married you anyway.”

“You don't know that.”

“Darling, everyone knew it, except apparently you. No, don't bother arguing, we haven't time. Just bear in mind that if you have any trouble at all, if anything goes wrong for you or the twins, I want you to send for me. Have a footman run a note to the nearest telegraph office, and I'll be there like a shot. Promise me you'll do that.”

“I promise.” Helen stood on her toes to kiss his cheek, and told him, “I think you're a hero in disguise.”

“Do you?” West shook his head ruefully. “Then it's a good thing you don't know more about me.” He offered her his arm. “Come, it's time to join the others in the entrance hall. Do you happen to have a pocket-mirror?”

“I'm afraid not. Why?”

“I've made you late, which means by now Lady Berwick has sprouted serpents from her head, and I can't look at her directly.”

T
O NO ONE
'
S
surprise, Lady Berwick insisted that Rhys occupy the seat next to hers on the journey up to London. He obliged her, of course, but every now and then he twisted to glance longingly at Helen, who sat in the row behind them with her embroidery hoop.

As Helen worked on an appliqué flower, attaching
the edges of a leaf with a delicate featherstitch, she listened unobtrusively to their conversation. Rhys treated Lady Berwick with respectful interest but didn't seem awed by her in the least. He asked about her favorite subject, horses and their training, saying frankly that he knew little about it and was an adequate rider at best. The admission produced an enthusiastic response from the countess, who loved nothing better than to dispense information and advice.

Helen's attention was diverted by the twins, who were talking in the seats behind her.

“. . . that word from
Othello
that we're not supposed to know,” Pandora was saying.

“Fustilarian?” Cassandra guessed.

“No, silly. And that's not from
Othello
, that's from one of the Henrys. I'm referring to the thing that Othello calls Bianca when he thinks she loves another man.” At her twin's perplexed expression, Pandora whispered the forbidden word.

“I don't know that one,” Cassandra said.

“That's because you read the abridged version. But I read the original, and I looked up the word in the dictionary. It means ‘a woman who lies with a man for money.'”

“Why would a man pay a woman to sleep with him?” Cassandra asked, sounding puzzled. “Unless it's very cold, and there aren't enough blankets. But it would be simpler to buy more blankets, wouldn't it?”

“I'd rather sleep with dogs. They're much warmer than people.”

Perturbed, Helen reflected that it wasn't right to keep the twins so sheltered. Years ago, she had taken it upon herself to tell them in advance about their monthly courses, so that when it happened, neither of them
would be shocked and terrified, as she had been. Why should they be kept in ignorance of the rest of it? After all, forewarned was forearmed. She decided to explain the basic facts to the twins at the first available opportunity, rather than let them come to the wrong conclusions on their own.

The train arrived at Waterloo Station, the sheds crowded and milling, the air thick with the usual cacophony of noise. As soon as the Ravenels and their retinue descended to the platform, they were met by four blue-uniformed employees from Winterborne's, who collected their luggage, placed it on wheeled carts, and cleared a path with magical efficiency. Helen was privately amused by Lady Berwick's struggle not to appear impressed as they were escorted out to a pair of private carriages—one for family, one for the servants—and a wagon for surplus luggage.

Rhys's carriage was a magnificent vehicle of modern design, finished in glossy black lacquer with the familiar ornate W monogrammed on the side. Standing at the door of the carriage, Rhys personally handed each occupant into the vehicle, beginning with Lady Berwick and then Helen. He paused as one of the twins tugged at his sleeve imploringly. Casting a brief glance at the seated women, he said ruefully, “I beg your indulgence for a moment.”

The door closed, leaving Helen and Lady Berwick inside.

The countess frowned. “What is this about?”

Helen shook her head slightly, mystified.