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Helen expected noise, the struggle of men bringing bouquets of flowers and trying to stay in line, but everything was deathly quiet like something was terribly wrong. The deafening silence was interspersed with the monotonous click of the grandfather clock, punctuating and making the silence even more ghastly. She sniffed the air, hoping to catch the buttery scent of cakes and biscuits, but there was nothing. It was as if no one was even home.
She turned around, running slim fingers on the cornflower blue wallpaper in the hallway. Something was definitely wrong, and Helen could feel it ringing in her bones. The drawing-room was supposed to be full with people standing in a queue. She stormed down the stairs, wanting to find out what was wrong.
The drawing-room was empty, seats devoid of people. Helen always used the empty room as a place to gather her thoughts and read pamphlets, basking in the orchestral silence. Now, the emptiness was strange. When the grandfather clock chimed, she cringed.
Helen checked outside the door to see if the men hadn’t been invited in yet, but there was no single carriage outside. Just the bizarre emptiness she felt. She came inside and faced the wall, praying that nothing was amiss.
She trudged back up the stairs, heading toward her father’s study. It was still early, and her father would be meticulously studying, buried deep under account books and ledgers. Helen once offered to help take the weight off him, but he refused, saying it was no place for a woman.
Trailing one hand on the new wallpaper, she passed through the maze of interconnecting hallways until she reached the familiar mahogany door of her father’s study. The door was freshly lacquered, just like usual — on the first day of every new month.
Voices floated to her ears, clear as day. The door was slightly open and Helen could hear her maternal aunt’s voice — Aunt Gertrude — speaking.
“It is those books, I tell you. They are the pristine works of the devil, trying to drag her into his clutches.”
“That,” her father replied after the swift inhalation of snuff, “is truly nonsense. I do not see how this problem is in relation to what you speak of.”
Aunt Gertrude raised her voice. “You know about those books then? The ones that feed the carnal desires of the mind? They fill her mind, prompting her toward the lustful passions of the flesh!”
Her father’s tone was low, a rumble in the room, but Helen could sense the pain hidden behind the slight tremor in his voice. “Those books are mere literature, Gertrude. No one book can push one to do such a thing, I tell you. I do not believe what this says.”
“You indulge her! Feeding her with those things has only brought dishonor to this house.”
Helen was astounded. Dishonor, literature? From the looks of it, her father and aunt were in a heated argument over something. She guessed the reason might also be why no caller had arrived at their house.
“I do not believe my daughter would do such a thing. It is highly —”
“What thing?” Helen said, wedging her foot in the space and pushing the door open.”
“This!” her aunt sneered and threw the newspaper at her.
Helen took up the printed sheet, skimming through the story. Suddenly, her heart shattered into a million pieces. Her name was in the gossip column, a scandalous gossip attached.
“Such boldfaced debauchery. After everything your father has done to make you comfortable! This is how you repay him?”
Helen crashed to the floor, the world tilting in and out of focus. Unshed tears stung her eyes, and finally, they slid down her cheeks. She could not believe her eyes at what she was seeing. Still on her knees, she read the page repeatedly. Her reputation was ruined! Just like the stranger said it would be!
“I am sorry, Papa. Nothing happened at the ball, I promise!” she pleaded, hot tears flowing.
Aunt Gertrude replied. “Nothing happened? Then why is your name in the paper with these ridiculous claims?”
“I was attacked, Papa! Kate and I went into the garden together for some fresh air, and we were separated. A man attacked me from the darkness, but I escaped and left the ball. I even explained it to Miss Harrington after I escaped.”
Her father threw his head back in resignation, a sigh escaping his lips. “I believe your claim, Helen. You would never do something to bring dishonor to this family, but you know theton. We cannot put up with this kind of scandal.”
“Surely there must be something you can do, Papa. Maybe we —”
“Your aunt is right. Spending a few weeks in the countryside will do us some good while the situation dies down.”
Helen turned pale. “The country? Why Papa? That will be like admitting what happened. None of this is my fault! Punishing me for —”
“A small punishment for what you have done,” Aunt Gertrude remarked.
Helen felt a sudden cold tear at her insides. It was malevolent, crushing her heart with its weight. More tears escaped her eyes, dampening the neckline of the amber dress. All she could do was plead. The countryside held no delectations, and people just simply lived there. It was a place where Helen would never like to spend too much time.
“I cannot go to the countryside, Papa. The Season just started. How will I be married when I am stuck in the country?”
“The maids will help you pack up your belongings. There will be another Season, but this scandal must die down before you can make any match.”
