Chapter 5 #4
Helena took a small step backward, placing a little more distance between them.
"My Lord," she said evenly, "I believe you forget yourself."
A flicker of surprise crossed his face.
"Or perhaps," she continued, lowering her voice so that only he might hear, "you have forgotten the account you have so diligently shared with society."
His pleasant expression faltered for the briefest moment.
"You neglected to mention what was written in that letter.
" Her eyes never left his. "I believed it was addressed to me, which is the only reason I read it.
You know as well as I do that there could be no misunderstanding.
" She paused. "You also know that your version of events omits every detail that might cast doubt upon your own conduct. "
For the first time, the smile he wore appeared genuinely strained. "I think you mistake…"
"No," Helena interrupted quietly. "I understand perfectly. You are eager for society to regard you as the injured party because it prevents anyone from asking whether I had reason to end our engagement."
Lord Ravenscroft glanced briefly toward the surrounding guests before returning his attention to her.
"I shall not discuss this matter with you again," Helena continued. "You will respect my wishes and allow me to go my own way." She hesitated only a moment before adding, with the faintest trace of irony,
"Besides, with the reputation you have worked so diligently to give me over the last two days, I can hardly be considered fit to be anyone's wife." Her gaze rested upon him a moment longer. "I believe your book would entirely approve of such a conclusion."
Helena had never spoken to him in such a manner before, but she had never been given cause to do so.
For the briefest moment, Lord Ravenscroft forgot his performance.
The wounded expression vanished from his face in an instant, in its place appeared a flash of cold anger; a calculating expression accompanied by an evident look of disdain.
Helena had only a brief moment to take in the display before he lowered his gaze, composed his features once more, and looked every inch the gentleman whose heart had just been broken.
"Lord Ravenscroft." Tristan's voice interrupted them. He approached with a glass of lemonade in one hand and dipped his head politely.
"Lord Blackmere," Lord Ravenscroft replied, though Helena noticed his attention drift briefly about the room, as though assessing the easiest means of ending the conversation.
"I believe I caught sight of you at my club yesterday," Tristan said pleasantly. "I had intended to greet you, but you appeared deeply engaged in conversation."
Lord Ravenscroft smiled. "I regret we missed one another."
"As do I." Tristan's expression remained perfectly composed. "Though, from what little I overheard as I passed, I suspect I should not have cared to join the discussion."
The Baron's smile faltered almost imperceptibly.
"I fear I have been absent from London rather too long," Tristan continued. "When last I was here, gentlemen generally considered it a matter of honor never to make a lady's reputation the subject of conversation within a club. Perhaps society has altered its standards during my absence."
His words were spoken without the slightest hint of accusation, yet several nearby conversations had fallen silent.
Helena became aware of more than one gentleman looking toward Lord Ravenscroft with evident disapproval, while a lady quietly lowered her fan and exchanged a meaningful glance with her companion.
She felt a fresh wave of disbelief. She had known Lord Ravenscroft intended to shape society's opinion of her, but she had not imagined he would go so far as to discuss her among gentlemen at his club.
Lord Ravenscroft cleared his throat. "I believe my remarks have been rather misunderstood."
"I sincerely hope so," Tristan replied. "It would be most unfortunate were they not."
A moment of silence followed. Tristan then turned toward Helena and held out the glass of lemonade. "I believe I promised you this."
She accepted it with a grateful smile. "Thank you."
"Miss Fairchild," he continued, offering his arm, "would you do me the honor of taking a turn about the room?"
"I should be delighted."
Helena placed her hand upon his arm before tilting her head politely toward Lord Ravenscroft. "Good afternoon, My Lord."
Lord Ravenscroft returned a brief nod automatically, though for the first time since she had known him, he appeared entirely uncertain how he ought to proceed.
An earl had publicly reminded him of the standards expected of a gentleman without offering him any opportunity to defend himself.
To protest would only draw greater attention to the rebuke, while remaining where he stood merely invited further scrutiny.
As Helena walked away beside Tristan, she found herself wondering whether that, more than anything she herself had said, had finally deprived Lord Ravenscroft of the performance he so carefully sought to maintain.