Chapter 13 #2
“Oh, yes. Lady Anne has spent a good deal of time at Goodall Abbey over the years. She and Lord Hawke grew up together, and they’ve always been fond of each other.
Lady Goodall and Lord Hawke’s mother were great friends, you know.
It was their dearest wish that Lady Anne and Lord Hawke would marry one day, but fate has her way in the end, doesn’t she? ”
“Yes, I suppose she does.” But then perhaps fate wasn’t quite finished with Adrian and Lady Anne? Perhaps she’d been biding her time, waiting for her moment. There must be a reason why it all fit together so neatly now, mustn’t there?
Like a puzzle finally coming together, all its pieces in the proper place.
“Well, I’d best go and find out what Abby’s getting up to, and tell her I’ve got some of the village girls coming today to help her clean. That’ll cheer her up.” Mrs. Norris chuckled as she got to her feet. “That girl’s never happier than when she has someone to order about.”
Helena remained in the kitchen, her teacup between her hands, and thought about Ryan, Etienne and Adrian, and heartbreak, and the grief that had nearly torn the three of them apart.
By the time her tea had cooled, she’d made up her mind.
Now it was simply a matter of seeing the thing done.
“I’m afraid this won’t do, Miss Templeton.” Lady Codswaddle poked at one of the kissing balls, her lip curled with disdain.
Adrian had been as good as his word and had secured a few girls from the village to help her with the kissing balls, but Helena had still spent the better part of the afternoon in the stillroom with a lapful of greenery and ribbons, struggling over the last of them.
The bandages that Adrian had so carefully wrapped around her fingers were in shreds, her arms were aching, and she’d nearly gone cross-eyed from tying ribbons.
In short, she’d had quite enough of Lady Codswaddle’s endless complaints, and she was perhaps far less cordial than she might have been when she asked, “What’s the matter this time?”
“Why, there aren’t enough of them, of course. I imagined six dozen would do, but we must have one for each of the sconces. They’ll look very well beside the pier glasses.”
There were two sconces fixed into each of the panels that lined the ballroom, each pair with a pier glass between them, and at least…Helena did a rough count.
A dozen panels. To accommodate Lady Codswaddle’s demands, she’d need another two dozen kissing balls, not a dozen.
“These are rather small, aren’t they?” Lady Codswaddle took up a kissing ball and held it up to one of the sconces. “Well, you see for yourself what I mean, Miss Templeton.”
Helena didn’t see, but before she could unclench her teeth and say so Adrian, who’d been helping Lady Anne drape greenery around the mantelpiece descended on them, his lips tight. “Is there a problem, Lady Codswaddle?”
“Lord Hawke, thank goodness you’re here. I’m afraid we do have rather a problem, yes. There are simply not enough kissing balls, you see. I’m of the mind we need another dozen, at least, but Miss Templeton doesn’t appear to agree with me.”
“Neither do I, madam.” Adrian waved a hand around the ballroom. “We’re overrun with kissing balls as it is. I can’t stir a step without one of them slapping me in the forehead, for God’s sake.”
Lady Codswaddle drew herself up with a sniff. “As the head of the decorations committee, my lord, I must insist—”
“No more kissing balls, Lady Codswaddle. We’re already choking on them as it is.”
Lady Codswaddle sucked in an outraged breath, but Helena interrupted her before she could unleash another tirade.
She was simply too dispirited to argue over something as silly as kissing balls.
The fete would be over after tomorrow night, and none of this would matter anymore.
“It’s alright, my lord. I don’t mind making another dozen.
” She did mind, and she suspected Adrian knew it, but—
Lord Hawke, that is. He was Lord Hawke, not Adrian, for pity’s sake.
Surely that wasn’t so difficult to remember? Just because he’d kissed her with his impossibly soft lips, and stroked his fingers up her spine and loosened the buttons of her gown and nuzzled her neck and whispered her name…
Wait, what point had she been making?
Oh, yes. Nothing had changed between them.
He was still the earl and she was still his sons’ governess, at least for another few days, and governesses didn’t call their employers by their Christian names.
“Abby and I can assemble them this evening, but I’ll have to climb the alder tree to get more mistletoe. We’ve run out.”
“Climb the alder tree! Are you mad?”
Adrian—dash it, Lord Hawke—was glaring at her. “It’s no bother—”
“You’re not going up that tree, Hel…that is, Miss Templeton. It’ll be dark soon, and it looks as if it’s going to snow.”
Lady Codswaddle sniffed. “I confess I don’t see what all the fuss is, my lord. Miss Templeton looks spry enough. I’m certain she can scamper right up there and be back down again in a trice. It can’t be terribly difficult, after all.”
Adrian turned on Lady Codswaddle, his hands clenched as if it was taking all his restraint not to throttle her. “If it’s so simple, then why don’t you go up yourself?”
“Me? Oh no, Lord Hawke. I’m afraid that’s impossible. I must be off now. I don’t like to ride in my carriage in the snow. It’s not safe, you know. Goodbye!” Lady Codswaddle waved her fingertips at Lady Anne, and then swept out in a bustle of silk skirts.
“Helena,” Adrian began, his voice low. “This is madness. You’re not going up that tree.”
She avoided his gaze. “I’ve done it dozens of times, my lord. I’ll be perfectly safe.”
“Safe! Last time you climbed up there I had to come up and get you!”
“I’ll take better care with my hair this time.”
“Helena.” He reached for her, but something in her expression must have given him pause, because he dropped his hand without touching her. “I’ll go up myself, if I have to, but you’re not climbing that bloody tree. I forbid it.”
Forbid it? Oh, dear. That hadn’t been the right thing to say at all. “Very well, my lord. Since you forbid it, I won’t climb the alder tree.”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “That’s it? No further arguments?”
“Of course not, my lord.” Why should she argue over the alder tree when one of the silver maples lining the drive had plenty of mistletoe?
She turned to go, but he caught her wrist before she could take a step, and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Wait, Helena. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve been avoiding me all day, but you can’t hide from me forever. As enormous as this castle is, I will find you.”
His hot green eyes held hers, and dear God, she wanted nothing more than to slide her arms around his neck and sink into him, but just as she was in danger of doing just that, she caught sight of Lady Anne over his shoulder, tying long lengths of wide velvet ribbon into elegant bows, a pretty flush coloring her cheeks.
“Your guest is waiting for you, my lord.”
“Listen to me, Helena. I want—”
He didn’t get any further, because she tugged her wrist from his grasp and fled the ballroom.
But she had little enough reason to congratulate herself for her escape. She spent another sleepless night tossing in her bed, wondering with everything inside her how Adrian would have finished that sentence, if only she could have given him the chance.