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The man stood and brushed off his breeches. For the first time, she was able to see the high quality and impeccable cut of the clothing. Her cheeks flushed.
She’d also never seen a man so informally attired. Even her own father rarely removed his coat in her presence. Without his cravat, she could make out a set of powerfully sculpted muscles in his chest. She turned her head.
“I shall be as quick as I can.” The man placed his fingers into his lips and let out a low whistle. As he slipped on his tailcoat, Helen started to shrug off his greatcoat.
“Please, keep it in your possession.”
“But what of you?” Helen’s hands fingered the top button of the coat.
“I was raised in the north of England. We’re a hearty stock.”
A chestnut-colored thoroughbred trotted over to where the trio of them were gathered. The horse nickered at the man’s shoulder. He absentmindedly rubbed its muzzle and gripped the reins in his hands. In a single, fluid motion, the man slipped into his saddle. Tipping an invisible hat to her, he spurred his mount into a gallop.
She watched him ride off.
I didn’t even think to ask the gentleman his name. I suppose for now, I shall name him Apollo, after the Greek god of light, prophecy, and healing.
To John, she said, “Hold on just a little bit longer. Help is on its way.” She patted his hand.
“Very good, Miss Davenport.”
* * *
The remainder of the morning passed in a blur. The Davenport carriage rolled swiftly into Hyde Park and removed them to Curzon Street. John was whisked from her care and settled in one of the bedrooms on the second floor in spite of his protests. Helen was carried to her room and given a hot bath.
The water was a boon to her aching body. “Miss Davenport, look at the sight of you. I’ll search for some cream to sort out the bruising this afternoon,” said Patsy, her personal maid.
Helen rolled her neck from side to side. “That would be lovely.”
“Your poor father is pacing the hallway, a nervous wreck. His mind won’t be put at ease until he sees you are safe and sound.”
Patsy assisted her out of the tub. Water dripped from her hair, leaving a small trail as they walked towards the changing screen. Even with the roaring fire in the next room, the temperature was chilly.
“Poor Papa. Was he in a state when the news arrived?”
Patsy handed her a clean night shift. “Watson sent Samuel round to find him. He was en route to the bookseller’s shop. I hope never to see him in such a state again.”
Helen grimaced at the image of her father’s chalk-white, nearly translucent face and haunted eyes. It was the same expression she had seen the day her mother passed on. In all the years, she’d never forgotten it.
They made their way to the dressing room. Helen stared at her reflection, sitting down in front of the vanity mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot and face pale. She pinched her cheeks. “Has there been any word on John?”
“Not that I’m privy to, Miss Davenport.” Patsy’s practiced hands set to work combing and plaiting her hair in a gentle manner. “You should direct your inquiries to your father.”
Helen sighed. “I will.”
Patsy tightened the ribbon at the end of her plait. “There.”
Helen settled herself into the bed. Her maid tidied up the vanity table and walked towards the door. “Will there be anything else, Miss Davenport?”
Helen had almost forgotten. “This may not be the best of times to mention this, but Mrs. Thorngren will be leaving Winterbrook at the end of the year. Father and I spoke of it this morning and we would like you to consider becoming our next housekeeper.”
Patsy’s mouth opened and closed. She splayed her hand on her chest. “I would be honored, miss.”
“Excellent. Father hoped you might be open to the idea and has already written to Mrs. Thorngren.”
Patsy wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye. “I am ever so lucky to have you and Mr. Davenport as a mistress and master.”
“I will miss you dearly, but this is a post you’ve earned from your years of dedicated service.” Helen tightly smiled. “Please send Father in. I am ready.” She slid into the covers and pulled them over her legs, sitting up straight against the pillows.
