Chapter Two
“Well, there you are, Miss Cosgrove.”
Lord Galway, distinguished in his formal evening wear, appeared before Helen, the light of the chandeliers making the gray at his temples shine.
Had he been…watching for her?
A patent, disingenuous smile flashed at Helen. Eyes trailing over her form in the ancient gown as if stripping the garment from her body. Seemed a habit of Galway’s as of late. Her employer had not done anything too inappropriate. Yet.
“My lord,” Helen returned, bobbing politely.
“Where have you been, Miss Cosgrove?” he drawled. “Certainly not attending my daughter, as is your responsibility.” The words were nonchalant and almost teasing.
But Helen wasn’t fooled.
Galway never jested, about anything because he was devoid of any amusement.
“Lady Cerise required a hairpin as she’d lost one,” Helen explained, keeping her voice even.
“I keep several in my reticule and remedied the situation as soon as possible. However, I must have dropped my bit of needle and thread in searching for a pin and thus had to retrace my steps to find both.” She patted the small sack around her wrist. “Which I did.”
Galway made a sound. He didn’t care for her perfectly acceptable excuse. “While I don’t wish my daughter to suffer from a loose ribbon on her slipper, she cannot be left on her own, Miss Cosgrove due to her,” he paused. “Exuberant nature.”
Cerise’s nature was that of a harlot. She’d ruin herself if not under constant watch. Galway was right to be concerned.
“Yes, my lord.”
“As you know, if her reputation were to come into question, Miss Cosgrove, or damaged in any way, before I make a suitable match for her, I fear the blame,” he made a tsking sound.
“Would fall squarely on your shoulders.” Galway’s eyes darted over Helen once more.
“Therefore, your position, and thus your very existence, depends upon your constant vigilance. Hairpins are not necessary. Virtue is.”
“Yes, my lord.”
An impatient sigh left him, as if Helen were the biggest burden Galway would ever bear.
“My dear cousin begged me to take you on. Enid was quite insistent. I had my doubts as you know, given your age and lack of experience, but I overlooked my misgivings. Enid’s two granddaughters can hardly compare to Cerise as she is the daughter of a marquess. ”
Helen smoothed her features further, into serene composure.
This speech was one of Galway’s favorites.
She’d heard these same words numerous times since accepting the position as Cerise’s companion and chaperone.
After the usual disparagement of her qualifications, Helen would be reminded of the great favor Galway had done in hiring her before her perceived lack of gratitude would be called into question.
Galway frowned. He waited. The slow curling of his lip told Helen he wanted her to protest. Challenge him.
Become impertinent so that he might threaten to toss her into the streets without references.
Galway liked the power he wielded over others, especially those in his employ.
She’d realized some time ago that he wanted Helen to beg for her position.
Be in his debt. So that he could coax her into his bed.
I’ve no idea why he’d want me in his bed.
Cook had warned Helen, of course. So had Kate, Cerise’s maid. Galway had something of a reputation with the female staff members.
“Have you nothing to say for yourself, Miss Cosgrove.”
He wanted so badly for Helen to lose her temper at his treatment. “No, my lord. You are correct as always.”
A scowl flirted at the hard line of his mouth. “I am glad to hear it. I’ve forgiven so much,” he reiterated, studying Helen as if she were an errant child. “Overlooked a great many things.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Helen had never once responded to any of his improper suggestions, all of which were becoming more pronounced as the end of the Season drew closer, almost as if Galway knew his power over her would soon wane.
Once Cerise was wed, Helen meant to take her wages, the bonus she’d earned for keeping her charge scandal free and be gone from London.
The agreement to do so was in writing, efficiently filed away by Galway’s solicitor, but Helen still worried he would find some way to deny her the sum.
I should just bed him and be done with it.
Unlike Cerise, Helen had no virtue to protect.
Owen, her former betrothed, had seen to that.
He’d claimed her to be cold. Unfeeling. Lacking even a spark of passion.
A flaw seconded by her only other lover, a physician with whom she’d had a brief affair.
If she became Galway’s lover, he would find her wanting and possibly let Helen go on her way, glad to be rid of her.
Helen thought of the way her body had vibrated like a tuning fork near Roxboro, a flagrant libertine. The knowledge was more unsettling than Galway’s flirtations.
“I hope I’ve made myself clear, Miss Cosgrove.” Galway flicked a bit of lint from his sleeve.
“Yes, my lord.”
Galway glanced over Helen’s shoulder, in the direction she’d come, obviously suspicious of her absence, but he said nothing more. Turning, the marquess motioned her forward with a flick of his wrist, as if she were no more than a dog in need of instruction.