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“By all means, dearest.”
Inside her room, Helen firmly closed the door. Sitting at her dressing table with shaking hands, she inspected the parcel closer.
It was from the book shop, Hatchards. Did Mr. Marcellus mean to leave it for her? Or did it fall from his pocket?
With a pull, she unknotted the twine and ripped apart the brown paper. Inside was an English-language copy ofThe Iliad.The cover was made from red leather with gold lettering. As she opened it, she soaked in the hand-painted images of scenes from the book. It was a collector’s quality book. She was afraid to know how much it cost.
She clutched it to her chest. She could smell the scent of the glue holding the book together. Even if Mr. Marcellus did not intend to gift her the book, she was keeping it. This was a treasure.
Against all odds, for the first time in her four Seasons, Helen found herself pining for a man she knew virtually nothing about. Her stomach fluttered full of butterflies. Her cheeks grew warm thinking about the fine figure he cut on a horse. Two days could not pass quickly enough.
Five
Chapter 5
“We must have visited every establishment on Bond Street,” Helen mused as they entered her aunt’s preferred millinery shop to the jingle of a bell.
Shelves from floor to ceiling displayed bonnets trimmed with colorful ribbons, turbans, and other accessories a lady might wish to use as hair ornaments. Helen’s gloved hand traced the tip of an orange feather. Its fringed edges danced under her touch.
The shop’s owner was assisting a mother and daughter. Aunt Sarah glanced over a paper list as they waited. “This is to be our final shop before we stop for a spot of tea. After which, we’ll visit the boot and glove makers.”
Helen nodded. She’d long given up attempting to protest the sheer amount of shopping Aunt Sarah had planned.
How could her aunt’s ideas differ so drastically from what Helen deemed to be serviceable? Should clothing not be purchased more for comfort than appearances? She understood having one or two fine ball gowns made up, but five or six day dresses too?She’d much rather spend the funds on paper, ink, or a good book. Fashion changed too suddenly to be able to keep up with the latest trends.
Aunt Sarah returned the list to her reticule.
The mother and daughter turned. “Lady Greenly, what a marvelous surprise.”
The woman was dressed in a frock cut from a fine maroon brocade, her daughter in a cream dress. Both women had similar features of curly blonde locks and blue eyes.
“Lady Woodrow, Miss Alice. How lovely to see you both.” Aunt Sarah inclined her head. “May I introduce you to my niece and goddaughter, Miss Helen Davenport of Winterbrook in Hertfordshire.” Helen curtsied.
“Miss Davenport. How are you finding your stay in London to be so far? Has the excitement of the Season caught up with you yet?” Lady Woodrow inquired.
“I am enjoying my stay very much. There are so many more amusements in London to enjoy than in the country.” Helen crossed her fingers behind her back.
“Indeed, I couldn’t agree more.” Lady Woodrow slipped a pair of gloves over her hands. “You two ladies simply must call on us for tea later this week. Oh, and we must have you attend our ball! I’ll sent a footman over with an invitation later today.”
A two-minute conversation, and just like that, Helen’s aunt had secured an invitation to one of the most exclusive events to open the Season.
Aunt Sarah and Lady Woodrow exchanged a few more words, then parted ways. The shop’s owner patiently lingered in the background.
Like a colonel commanding his troops, Aunt Sarah wasted no time and efficiently placed an order for two bonnets and two feathered hair pieces.
Outside once more, Helen could sense a change in her aunt’s mood. Her body was rigid with tension, her jaw clenched. “Helen, we must return home straightaway.”
“Aunt?” She placed her hand on her aunt’s forearm.
“Lady Woodrow has a keen ear for gossip. There are few rumors or happenings that occur in town without her becoming privy to it.” Aunt Sarah glanced nervously around them. Ladies and gentlemen strolled leisurely up and down the street, enjoying one of the few spells of dry weather over the past day.
Lowering her voice, her aunt said, “Word is spreading of an incident that took place in Hyde Park involving a young lady and a gentleman in a shocking state of undress.”
Helen’s breathing quickened. Was the story referring to the accident? How could this be? She wracked her brain. She couldn’t remember seeing any other people nearby.
“There is a perfectly logical explanation for what happened. Could we not merely explain the runaway horse and the near collision?” she whispered.
“The Ton lives for vile gossip.” Aunt Sarah took hold of Helen’s hands. “If there is even a whisper that you are connected to the incident, the gossip will take on a life of its own and your reputation, my dear, will be ruined.”
