Page 19 of To Dance with a Devil

“Miss Stone is going shopping this morning, miss, and wishes to know if you’d like to accompany her?”

Bonnie reached for the biscuit and took a cautious bite, chewing slowly. “No, thank you, Jenny. Please, apologise to Miss Stone, but I have some letters to write.”

“Very good, miss. Shall I lay out the blue sarsnet?”

Bonnie nodded her agreement and picked up the teacup. The morsel of biscuit seemed to have lodged itself in her throat. She would have to leave. It wouldn’t be very long before her condition became apparent. Jenny would guess before anyone else and then it was only a matter of time. Morven had employed the young woman, and Bonnie didn’t doubt she’d tattle on her in no time at all. Bonnie went hot and cold as she realised Jenny would likely guess who the father was and be just as keen to unburden herself of that little nugget, too. Oh, good Lord. Well, she’d just have to deny it. She’d tell them it had been another man, a guest at the engagement ball, perhaps? She could say she’d been drunk and didn’t know who it was. It wouldn’t reflect well on her, but she doubted it would surprise anyone. She was a bad girl, everyone had always thought so. No doubt they’d be pleased to be proven right.

Anyway, there would be a tremendous scandal and it would be too bad of her to bring such a horrid mess down upon poor Ruth. She’d been so very kind to Bonnie, and her own chances of making a good match were fragile enough with her vulgar father to contend with, no matter her vast fortune.

Terror struck at her heart, but there was no point in putting off the inevitable. She could not embarrass Ruth, and so she could not stay. She would not face the indignity of being hauled back to Scotland by Gordon Anderson, and it was only a matter of time before he appeared on her doorstep. No, she’d return to Scotland, but when she was good and ready and… and she wasn’t ready.

Perhaps she was a coward, but she needed a little time to get used to the idea of being an unwed mother before she looked Morven in the eye and confessed all. Well, that was easily enough dealt with.

***

“Why are we here?”

Jerome looked around, jolted out of his abstraction by an impatient voice.

Lady Helena Adolphus was staring at him, arms folded. She looked quite a picture, all dressed in a deep green pelisse that brought out the colour in her eyes. A charming chip bonnet, trimmed with green velvet leaves, completed the ensemble and Jerome had noticed that she’d received many admiring looks as they’d strolled down Bond Street, with her maid and a footman walking discreetly behind them.

“Er… shopping?” Jerome suggested, though he suspected that wasn’t the answer she was looking for.

With an exasperated sigh, Helena rolled her eyes to the heavens, and he congratulated himself on being right.

“Yes, but why are you here?” she demanded.

Jerome opened and closed his mouth, uncertain of how to best answer that. The outing had been arranged a few days ago and, although he’d agreed to it, he couldn’t for the life of him remember how it had come about.

“For the pleasure of your company,” he ventured, with an uneasy smile.

Helena made a very unladylike noise and sent him a look that would have made small children cry. He wasn’t a small child, he reminded himself fiercely and forced back the urgent desire to tug at his cravat.

“Oh, please,” she said with a sigh. “You have no more interest in me than I have in you. It’s your blessed mother who keeps arranging all these outings, as we both know, and for what purpose I cannot fathom. Surely she can see you’d rather be anywhere else, and I’ve not the least intention of marrying you, either.”

Jerome stared at her for a long moment and then let out a breath. “Oh, thank God,” he said.

“Well, really!” Helena said indignantly. “There’s no need to be insulting.”

“Oh, Lady Helena, I do beg your pardon… I….”

She snorted and shook her head. “Oh, stow it,” she said with a short laugh, rather taking him aback. “It’s not as if I care.” She gave a heavy sigh and then glanced at him, her mouth quirking. “The trouble is, I wish I did. I’ve got my brother and his wife billing and cooing all over the house and I’m dying to fall in love with someone, but it simply won’t happen. It’s so annoying.”

“I know,” Jerome said, nodding as he guided her around two gaudy macaronis, simpering and giggling and taking up most of the pavement.

“You do?” she said in surprise, clearly taken aback.

“Yes.” He returned a rueful expression. “I’ve fallen in and out of love a half dozen times in the past couple of years, but the one person I want to fall for….”

“Oh.” Helena flushed and Jerome realised his mistake.

“Oh, no,” he said in a rush. “I don’t mean you.”

Her eyebrows shot up at that and Jerome felt his own colour rise as he realised he’d unwittingly insulted her again.

“I beg your pardon,” he said with a groan. “Perhaps I’ll just keep my mouth shut.”

“Safest,” she agreed tartly. “But a deal less entertaining.” She grinned at him and Jerome let out a breath.