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“I know. You and Robbie didn’t ask to fall in love. I know how hard you fought it over the years. How much you’ve suffered, too.”
He blew out a loud breath, exhaling until his entire body slumped. After another minute, he straightened slightly, then a grin split his face. “So you think Irons is better than a guano run?”
They laughed, releasing the tension. Their plan was back on.
While she took some air, Elijah changed and left, eager to share the good news with Mr. Hughes.
In the last month, the glorious gardens at Russell Square had become Helen’s refuge. Tall hedges enclosed the sizable square, creating a private world separate from the filth of the city. She nodded politely to its other visitors as she strolled along the horseshoe-shaped central walk.
Glad as she was to remain in London, she would need a new survival plan for the coming months. While Elijah rounded up and prepared his crew this week, she would seek new lodgings.
Their mail income was about to run out, soon to be replaced by the greater profits from the lumber sale to Nicholas's firm. A furtive smile tickled her lips on her way back to the house, wondering whether any of the timber would fashion any part of Mr. Macalester’s waterwheel.
Before stepping back into her current lodgings, she held onto the wrought-iron railing for balance while she scraped her boots. She froze, looking from the charming small black-and-white tiles on the porch to the bright-red lacquered door. Until today, she hadn’t quite appreciated how cheery the color was.
Now I can enjoy my surroundings,Helen realized. Without the weight of the investor search, she could take advantage of everything London offered. As much as she loved Elijah, the constant refrain of his complaints about the grand city, while not inaccurate, proved wearisome.
Wherever she ended up, she was determined to make the most of her time here.
The butler, Sullivan, opened the door for her, and a maid helped her wipe the city grime from her face and hands with a moist cloth. With a flourish of his hand, the heavily browed butler brought her attention to a calling card in the entryway salver.
Helen picked up the large, square card, hand-embellished with flowers and birds over a printed design—deep-purple irises, and black-beaked creatures with feathers in rust, turquoise, and yellow.
The engraved name was so ornate it took her a moment to decipher.Sirena Sideris.She blinked, not recognizing the name until, in a flash, she heard Nicholas's words aboardAlacrity.
“Sideris is the family name. Irons…is mine.”
Her eyes widened.How strange.“Did she say what she wanted?”
The maid giggled before leaving with the basin and cloth.
Sullivan cleared his throat. “A groom delivered the card, missus. You’re to return a card if you accept her request to call. Henry will deliver it,” he intoned, referring to the hall boy.
She sighed. She had neither cards nor a desire to make Mrs. Sideris’s acquaintance. Nicholas had promised his family’s protection and hospitality as well as his own, but she hadn’t any need for them.
Helen needed enemies even less, however—especially until the silver bullion filledAlacrity’shold and was on its way to China. She dispatched a maid to buy proper stationery, and by late afternoon, she received word in return that Mrs. Sideris had accepted her invitation for afternoon tea the next day and would call with her daughter.
When Elijah returned, he seemed taken aback even before she told him about the impending social visit. “When you met with Hughes, did he tell you about Irons and his family? That their name is Sideris, not Irons?”
“No, but Nicholas mentioned it to me himself during the tour of the ship. Why?”
“It so happens that his father is as rich as Croesus! Has a shipping company. But Irons set out on his own. Manages some aristocrat’s enterprise for him.”
Helen smiled. “Admit it. You admire that. Maybe you’re jealous you didn’t think of changing your own name.”
He still looked tired from his sleepless night, but his eyes gleamed. “It explains his willingness to give us a chance—he knows what it is to earn his place.”
“It also explains how he could access a fortune in bullion on little notice.”
“That it does, sister. That it does.”
“All this explains another bit of information I received today.” She recounted her plans for tea with Mrs. Sideris and her daughter tomorrow. “The maid has it from the hall boy that the Sideris mansion looks like a palace.”
“Do you mind if I’m otherwise engaged and out of the house when they call?”
Helen laughed. “No. I understand. I wish I could be, too!”
The next day she still felt that way, standing in front of the looking glass in her chamber. The maid had dressed her red hair respectably and she wore her fanciest day gown, the rich-blue silk she’d worn to meet investors, which she liked for its simple cut. The exquisite fabric shone, and the damask was as busy a print as she favored.
