“And Ireland?—”
He waved his hand again. “Full of Irish.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He raised an eyebrow and smiled, but left it at that.
“And—” she began, then shook her head. “Never mind.”
“Bonbon!” Lavinia shouted and pointed toward something in the grass. Gideon squinted but didn’t see it.
“It’s a rabbit,” Helena said. “Bonbon means rabbit. There must have been one hopping over there.”
“Oh,” he replied. “Shall we go see it?”
Lavinia nodded excitedly and jumped up and down. “Come on then.” He hurried toward where the rabbit had apparently been, with Helena struggling to keep pace. When he glanced back, she had pulled up the hem of her dress and was running across the grass. A sliver of pale skin was exposed, and he noticed that she wasn’t wearing stockings as was customary. He supposed that being a widow afforded her such freedoms. But he would have to remind her to wear some the next time he introduced her to another gentleman. Although that was rather an awkward conversation to have with a lady. Maybe he could ask Clara to do it. In any case, after their conversation he now knew that she was sharp-witted and could hold a conversation, and she had a sense of humor. Once he found the ideal match for her, it should be no problem to have her married off in no time at all.
Why did that give him such a pinch in the stomach? He didn’t know.
He set Lavinia down in the grass and the little girl squealed at once. “Bonbon, bonbon!” she pointed excitedly at a rabbit sitting near the water, eating what appeared to be a blade of grass. Helena stopped beside him and sat down on the grass as well.
“Oh, I should’ve given you my jacket to sit on. You will dirty your dress.”
“I might,” she said. “And it is one of the last nice ones that I have.”
Quickly he got up and spread his jacket down so she could sit on it. The rabbit hopped away after a little while, with Lavinialooking after it longingly. He saw her bottom lip quivering at the loss of the companion she hadn’t quite yet made, and he scooped her up. “No, no,” he said. “Don’t cry. Do you want to see a trick? Look.” He tucked his nose between his thumb and forefinger, then removed it, shoving his thumb between his index and middle finger so that the small knob appeared. “Look at that — that’s my nose. That’s my nose.”
Her eyes went wide and she grabbed his finger to push it back against his face as if to replace the missing nose.
“Thank you, Lavinia,” he said. “You gave me back my nose. I appreciate it very much. How about your mama’s — shall we take your mama’s nose?” Before he could think twice about it he turned and quickly pinched Helena’s nose, doing the same thing. Lavinia burst out laughing and likewise pushed his hand toward Helena’s face. Then, pretending to battle with unseen forces, he pulled his hand back.
“Oh no, I can’t give her back her nose. Whatever are we going to do.”
“Mama! Mama!” she called, and quickly Helena raised her hand up, wrapped it around his wrist, and gently pulled his hand toward her face to replace the presumably missing nose. Lavinia clapped her hands in excitement.
Helena glanced at Gideon. Their eyes settled on one another for a moment as her hand remained on his wrist. Her skin was soft and cool against the warm afternoon air, and for a split second,somewhere deep within him, he felt one of the walls he had begun to build around his heart after Cassandra had left shatter.
CHAPTER 11
HELENA
“Indeed,” the young man sitting across from her said with a smile. “It must be so difficult for a young woman such as yourself to be in such a position.”
“I suppose,” she said. “One does not expect to be widowed before one is even five and twenty. Such is life. One must manage.”
“One must,” the man — one Jonathan Pierce — said with a smile. “Surely you must rely upon a brother or an uncle to assist you?”
“No,” she said. “I have no family to speak of. I have managed myself.”
She took a sip of her peppermint tea and regarded him. Jonathan Pierce was a pleasant man. Pleasant in every possible way. He had good table manners, he spoke in a respectful tone, and his appearance was pleasant too. He was not what she would call exceedingly handsome — not in the way that Gideon was striking and drew attention whenever he entered a room. ButJonathan had the sort of agreeable face that put one at ease. His lips were narrow and disappeared almost when he smiled, but he had good teeth, which spoke better of his hygiene than some of her other callers had. His eyes were a warm hazel that had sparkled at the beginning of their conversation, though she had noticed a dimming in them she could not quite account for.
He was a few years older than her, but not by a margin that was in any way alarming.
He had asked after Lavinia, which she had to admit placed him firmly at the top of the list. He was the first gentleman she had actually thought promising.
“Your house in Bloomsbury — who helped you obtain it?”
“I obtained it myself,” she said. “I came to London, met with the owner, and negotiated a price. I paid in advance. Then I arranged for everything to be moved from the Vale estate. It was not all that difficult.”
