Chapter 19
Helena stood before the dressing table as Mary fastened the final buttons of her deep forest-green riding habit.
The rich color complemented the warm chestnut of her hair, while the black velvet collar lent the ensemble an understated elegance.
Mary stepped back to smooth a crease from the fitted bodice before reaching for the matching skirt, laying it carefully across the bed while the polished black riding boots waited beside it.
"I had a letter from my sister yesterday, My Lady," Mary said, unable to hide her smile as she reached for Helena's hairbrush. "She says the babe grows stronger by the day, though she complains it grows more difficult to bend and lace her boots without a great deal of grumbling."
Helena laughed softly as Mary gathered her hair into a neat knot. "Poor thing. Though I daresay, she has several months before she may truly complain."
"So, my mother tells her," Mary replied with an affectionate chuckle. "She only laughs and says it is a small price to pay."
"And when is she expected again?" Helena asked, meeting Mary's gaze in the mirror. "I seem to recall it is late October."
"Late October, if all goes well."
"Then there are still several months to go." Helena smiled. "You must tell me the moment the news arrives."
"I shall, My Lady."
Helena's expression softened. "I hope she is keeping herself from unnecessary work."
Mary gave an amused shake of her head. "You would think so, but she insists upon helping her husband in the shop. Mother complains she ought to spend more time with her feet upon a stool."
"Your mother is quite right," Helena replied. "If she will not listen to her family, perhaps she will listen to her physician."
Mary smiled knowingly. "She says physicians know less of babies than mothers do."
Helena laughed again. "That, too, sounds entirely plausible."
Mary chuckled as she set Helena's black riding hat upon her head, adjusting the ribbon beneath her chin until she seemed satisfied.
Helena offered a warm smile as Mary handed her a pair of neatly folded gloves. "Perhaps you and I ought to prepare a parcel for your sister and her babe."
Mary looked up in surprise. "My Lady?"
"If you could discover, without making it too obvious, what she is still in want of—from either your mother or your sister, we might put together a few useful things." Helena smiled thoughtfully. "The arrival of a child is always a joyful occasion."
Mary blinked, clearly taken aback. "That is exceedingly kind of you, My Lady, but I could never expect such a thing."
Helena slipped on her gloves before taking up her riding crop. "Whether you expect it or not, it is something I should very much like to do."
A faint blush colored Mary's cheeks as a grateful smile spread across her face. "Thank you, My Lady. Truly."
Helena's eyes twinkled. "Come now. As though you would not embroider something for me if I were expecting, just as you embroidered my handkerchief for my wedding day."
Mary laughed. "Indeed, I would."
"Then I can hardly do less in return."
Mary's smile only deepened.
With that, Helena gave her a nod of farewell and left her chambers.
As she descended the staircase, looking forward to her ride with Tristan on that bright June morning, her thoughts returned to the box, and their conversation of the previous day regarding Frederick.
She was more determined than ever to continue reading Elinor's pages, to unravel the mysteries woven through her account.
Once she knew Frederick had dealings with Lord Ravenscroft, it felt more urgent.
Helena descended the staircase and crossed the marble-floored entrance hall, where the butler opened the front door at her approach.
Outside, the morning sunshine bathed the street in a lovely glow.
Tristan was already waiting beside his bay gelding while a groom stood at the ready with Helena's mare.
At the sound of the door, Tristan turned, a smile touching his features as he stepped forward to offer his hand.
"Thank you," Helena said, gathering her skirt. She placed her gloved hand in his, and he steadied her as she mounted with grace, before swinging into his own saddle.
Together they rode away from the townhouse, making their way through the streets toward Hyde Park. Before long they turned onto Rotten Row, where ladies and gentlemen already enjoyed the fine morning, their horses moving at an unhurried pace beneath the shade of the trees.
It is a fine morning, is it not?” Tristan remarked, glancing up through the branches to the cloudless blue sky above.
“It most certainly is,” Helena agreed. “One could hardly wish for a lovelier day.”
A smile touched Tristan's lips. “Frederick always enjoyed a morning ride.” After a brief pause, he added, “Indeed, we both did, particularly if Georgiana happened to be in a temper.”
Helena turned to him with an amused smile. “Was she often so?”
He laughed softly. “Usually after Frederick had teased her beyond endurance. They were forever sparring, but Georgie has never borne defeat with much grace.”
“It sounds very much like the ordinary quarrels of a brother and sister.” Helena laughed.
“Perhaps.” Tristan's smile softened as he reached forward to pat his bay's neck. “He could be exasperating, but there was never any malice in him. And for all her complaints, Georgiana adored him.”
Helena listened as they rode beneath the shade of the trees, taking pleasure in hearing Tristan speak so openly of Frederick.
“I remember he took ill with a fever one winter,” Tristan continued.
“Georgie barely left his room. She read to him for hours, played cards when he was strong enough, and devised every imaginable distraction to keep his spirits from sinking. Frederick declared she was a dreadful nurse, but I believe he would have missed her terribly had she stayed away.”
"They were very close," Helena observed. After a moment, she added, "Tell me, what sort of man did Frederick become? I knew him only as a boy."
Tristan smiled to himself, his gaze fixed ahead as though the memories unfolded somewhere along the winding track before them.
"He possessed an insatiable curiosity," he said.
"If there was a hill to climb, he wished to know what lay beyond it.
If someone declared a thing impossible, he immediately resolved to prove otherwise.
He was forever reaching for something just beyond his grasp. "
Helena glanced at him and listened intently as he continued.
"It was impossible not to be drawn to him. He had a way of making every person he met feel as though they were the most interesting soul in the room. He could charm almost anyone within a matter of minutes."
His smile softened, "Though I confess, those of us who loved him best were often the ones most exhausted by him. He never seemed content to leave well enough alone. There was always another scheme, another wager, another adventure to pursue."
He fell silent for a moment. Helena almost replied, but the thoughtful cast of his features suggested there was more he wished to say. She let the silence remain between them.
"We were very different, Frederick and I.
I was forever trying to keep him from rushing headlong into trouble, and he was forever trying to persuade me that trouble was worth the risk.
" He shook his head. "I used to think there would always be more time, that one day we would understand one another better than we did then. "
His voice grew quieter. "It is a foolish thing, perhaps, but I have often wished I had ridden beside him more often, listened more patiently, and argued a little less.
One never imagines there will come a day when such opportunities are gone.
" Tristan drew a slow breath and offered Helena a small, apologetic smile.
"Forgive me. I fear I have become rather sentimental this morning. "
“There is nothing to forgive,” Helena said softly. “I have longed to hear you speak of him. And I truly am sorry for your loss, Tristan.”
“Thank you.” He drew a slow breath. “I have not spoken of him like this since his funeral.”
“Perhaps it is time.”
His smile returned, faint but genuine. “Yes,” he said. “I believe it is.”
They rode side by side beneath the broad canopy of the park's ancient trees, their horses settling into a comfortable rhythm as Rotten Row stretched ahead of them.
Ladies and gentlemen passed in the opposite direction, exchanging polite bows and greetings, while carriages rolled at a measured pace along the adjoining drive.
A gentleman standing beside the path stooped to retrieve a glove he had dropped. His small spaniel, believing itself released, darted across the track with a sharp bark.
Helena's mare shied violently. The unexpected movement threw her sideways before she had time to gather herself. Her grip tightened instinctively upon the reins as the mare tossed her head, dancing away from the startled dog.
"Helena!" Tristan reacted without hesitation.
His bay came alongside hers as he reached across to seize the mare's bridle close to the bit. His movements remained controlled, and his voice was calm as he soothed the anxious animal, guiding her in a short circle until she ceased tossing her head and stood comfortably once more.
Helena released the breath she had been holding and stroked the mare's neck. "There now," she murmured, feeling the trembling beneath her hand begin to subside.
It was only then that she realized Tristan had not released the bridle. His free hand still enclosed hers, the grip far firmer than courtesy required. She turned toward him, intending to assure him she was unharmed, but the words died before they reached her lips.
"Helena."
His gaze rested on her for a long second, searching her face as though reassuring himself she was sitting securely in the saddle once more. "You gave me quite a fright," he said at last, his voice quieter than before.
Helena blinked. "I am sorry," she replied with a small smile. "She gave me a fright too."