Chapter 9
HELENA
“Come here, Lavinia,” she called and opened her arms wide.
Lavinia toddled forward into them, and Helena scooped her up, making her giggle.
Hyde Park was full of people at this hour.
Governesses had taken their little charges out for walks.
Couples strolled hand in hand, and a few older pairs moved side by side at a more leisurely pace.
She smiled at the sight. She had always hoped that one day she might be one of those couples.
Now she was not so sure. The first two meetings Gideon had arranged had been nothing short of disastrous, and she did not know whether she wanted to continue trying. The truth was she did not. But she needed to. If not for her own sake, then for Lavinia’s.
“Mama …birds?” Lavinia inquired, pointing ahead with great purpose.
“We can go look at the birds,” Helena agreed, and together the two of them made their way toward the large bird cages in the corner of the park.
As she looked around, she noticed several families with young children.
It was a Sunday and church had let out, sending streams of people toward the park in their best clothes.
She had always hoped that she and Huxley would be among those families one day happily together, strolling in the sunshine with a child between them.
She had learned quickly enough that this was not to be.
Lavinia bounced on her hip as they reached the birds.
She extended one small finger at each cage in turn and proceeded to bestow names with absolute authority.
Mauwi — meaning Mary. Jonoto — meaning Jonathan.
Ewad — meaning Edward. Having a small child, Helena had found, was rather like being required to learn an new language.
She kissed the top of Lavinia’s head and, for just a split second, found herself wondering what it might be like if Gideon were here with them.
What would he be like with her? She pushed the thought away at once.
It was foolish. He was nothing more than a man who had come to help her in her hour of need. Nothing more than that.
She set Lavinia down and took hold of her two small hands, helping her toddle along the winding path.
“Oh, Your Grace,” a voice floated across from somewhere to her right, followed by a peal of giggles. “You are absolutely charming.”
“Well,” came the reply, low and rather pleased with itself, “I do try my best.”
Helena inhaled sharply. She knew that voice rather well.
She took a few quick steps, scooping Lavinia up again so she could move faster, and there he was.
Gideon was seated on a blanket with two young women who could have been no more than twenty.
They were clearly fresh to society, wearing their finest dresses, their hair dressed with care.
And they were here to promenade. To see and to be seen. And Gideon had very much seen them.
Helena moved until she and Lavinia were at least partially concealed behind a tree.
He wore a pair of extremely close-fitting pantaloons — the sort one had to soak in water to achieve such a fit — and a cravat starched to within an inch of its life.
Over it all he wore a canary yellow waistcoat that suited his dark complexion rather well, which she suspected he was entirely aware of.
“I always wondered what it would be like to serve in the militia,” said the young lady to his right.
“Did you see any action?” asked the other.
“Somewhat,” Gideon said. “We were never sent overseas, of course. But there are dangers on these shores as well. Once, our regiment was tasked with escorting a coastal supply vessel through a November squall — purely administrative work, you understand, but we were obliged to board her, and I thought for certain the whole enterprise would end with us at the bottom of the channel.”
“You were nearly shipwrecked?” the first young lady breathed.
“Nearly,” Gideon said. “We made it to shore, though I dare say I was a changed man afterward. Our vessel was called the Mary, and I always like to say we sent up several Hail Marys that night to save us. The worst of it was that we had not expected the weather at all it was only November, and there were not supposed to be any…”
Helena very nearly gave herself away. She remembered that storm.
She remembered it specifically because her father had described it to her afterward, greatly amused.
It had been a minor squall, a brief coastal crossing, and a number of young militia gentlemen who had convinced themselves they were all going to perish.
The worst of it, Captain Hartwell had said, was the number of them who had been sick over the side before the vessel had even cleared the harbor mouth.
She pressed her hand firmly over her mouth. One of the young ladies glanced in her direction. Gideon, however, had not heard her.
Lavinia, on the other hand, had spotted him.
“Gid!” she called out. Gid having become her name for him, on account of being as yet unable to manage the full two syllables of Gideon.
He turned. His eyes found them at once, and a distinct expression crossed his face as a faint perspiration broke out at Helena’s own neck at having ben caught.
There was no retreating now. No possibility of backing away without being seen. She took a breath and stepped out from behind the tree.
“Well,” she said, dropping a neat curtsy, “if it is not His Grace, the Duke of Blackthorne. I thought Lavinia must be mistaken when she called out to you. And yet, here you are.”
“Yes,” he said, getting to his feet rather quickly and brushing a few crumbs from his pantaloons.
He bowed. “Lady Vale.” He turned slightly.
“Allow me to introduce my companions. Miss Hester Feldman…” the young lady in powder blue dipped her head “—and her cousin, Miss—” he paused a fraction too long “…Lucinda.”
“Lucretia,” the young lady in the canary yellow dress corrected, in a tone that suggested this was not the first time she had made the correction.
“Yes. Quite. Lucretia. That is precisely what I said.” He cleared his throat. “This is Lady Helena Vale. She and I are working on a — a project together.” He gestured vaguely. “And that is her daughter, Lavi…”
He did not get any further. Lavinia had been watching him with the focused intensity of a small person who has identified exactly where she wishes to be, and she now lunged forward with both arms outstretched.
Why this child had developed such an unwavering conviction that she belonged on Gideon’s arm, Helena could not fathom. She stepped forward, but to his credit, Gideon caught Lavinia and settled her on his hip with rather more competence than she would have expected from their first encounter.
“Well, hello, little lady,” he said. “And how are you today?”
“Pap,” Lavinia announced.
His hazel eyes went very wide indeed. Helena pressed her lips firmly together.
“Did she just call you Papa?” Miss Hester asked, sitting up very straight.
“Are you this child’s father?” Miss Lucretia demanded, her voice rising slightly.
“No,” Gideon said, with great haste, and attempted to hand Lavinia back. “I am not. Not in the slightest. Not at all. She just wants to be lifted up.”
“She is already up,” Lady Hester pointed out.
“PapPap!” Lavinia continued to bellow.
“I dare say, it sounds as though she thinks you are her father. It is most irregular. I think we shall be leaving.”
“No, Lady Lucinda,” he called, sweat now running from his forehead.
“Lucretia,” Miss Lucretia said once more, all out of patience..
“Pap! Pap!” Lavinia repeated cheerfully, clutching his lapel with both hands and showing no intention whatsoever of releasing it.
The two young ladies exchanged a single glance.
Then, in almost perfect unison, they gathered their belongings.
Their voices mingled as they went, something about what a very great scandal this was, and what on earth one was supposed to make of it, and then they were gone, leaving Gideon standing on a checkered picnic blanket in Hyde Park, a small child attached to his lapel, while Helena laughed until she could not stand up straight.