Chapter Thirteen
Cerise couldn’t possibly want my opinion.
The request was unusual. Odd, in fact. But the Sopwitch ball was rather important, Helen reasoned, since it was highly likely Lowell would make his intentions known there to everyone in London. He’d then offer for Cerise and Helen would follow the betrothed couple about until their wedding.
Helen would be free to have her cottage. And a cat.
Stepping inside the modiste shop, Helen allowed the mantle of lady’s companion to wipe away the intoxication of Roxboro.
Margarite led her through the shop and down a short hall to a small, curtained-off room where fittings were conducted. Cerise stood atop a block, turning back and forth before a large, oval mirror, so she could see the stunning gown draped over her slender form from every angle.
“Oh.” Helen had never seen a gown quite so beautiful.
“It is rather magnificent, isn’t it?” Cerise looked over her shoulder.
“Spectacular, my lady,” she answered.
Pale green silk, shot through with a pattern of diamonds in deeper emerald.
The cut was dramatic, off the shoulder with tight sleeves.
The bodice was surprisingly tasteful and modest, but Cerise would undoubtedly find a way to draw more attention to her bosom.
A diamond necklace perhaps. Sparkling gold piping edged the hem and sleeves, flashing in the light whenever Cerise moved. She looked like a goddess.
“Just magnificent,” Helen breathed, meaning every word. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an exquisite creation. Lord Lowell will be unable to take his eyes from you.”
“I suppose so,” Cerise replied with little excitement. “I must have the correct jewels, of course, don’t you think?” She tapped her lower lip.
“I would suggest something simple, my lady. Nothing to detract from the beauty of the gown or you. A jeweled comb for your hair, perhaps. You’ve one studded with emeralds, do you not?”
“Ah, yes. In the shape of a bird.” Cerise inclined her head in agreement. “And my pendant, I think.”
Cerise had dozens of necklaces. More jewels than any woman needed or could wear in a lifetime. Rubies. Emeralds. Sapphires. Onyx, even.
“You know which one I mean.” Cerise waved a hand impatiently. “Good lord. You recall. The large emerald surrounded by diamonds set in gold.” Cerise traced a line down her chest to the valley of her breasts. “Roxboro admired the stone. It will sit right here.”
“Perfect,” Helen agreed, not caring for the reference to the duke. He had admired the stone.
She kicked aside the thought, ignoring the tingle shooting down her body at remembering the chance meeting of only moments ago.
She’d been…so surprised, so much so that the dozens of scathing insults she’d planned to hurl at him in a chilly manner, should he dare approach her again, had deserted her completely.
“Miss Cosgrove.” Cerise brought Helen’s attention back to the fitting room.
“I was only imagining how Lord Lowell will have to fight his way to your side,” she replied, still thinking of Roxboro and wondering how he could be on Bond Street when he was reported to be elsewhere. “He’ll be the envy of every gentleman.”
“That goes without saying, I think.” Cerise fluffed out the silk. “Lowell needs to understand the great honor I do him by agreeing to become his wife.” She studied herself in the mirror. “Of course, Father hasn’t spoken to him yet but—” her shoulders rolled elegantly.
Was Lowell just completely blinded by lust?
Besides beauty and breeding, Helen couldn’t fathom the earl’s interest in Cerise.
What could they possibly have in common?
The girl was lovely to look at but empty, much like an expensive vase one purchases to impress others. Maybe that is really all Lowell wants.
“I’ll be his countess,” Cerise sighed in resignation. “Marrying Lowell has certain advantages.” She pursed her lips. “Some more than others.”
“Lord Lowell is a gentleman,” Helen said. “An earl. Wealthy. Well-respected.”
“All well and good, but his estate.” Cerise stared at herself in the mirror. “Is near The Pillory. Only a few hours ride. Convenient. So, yes.” She smiled, tilting her head. “Lowell is rather perfect.”
“The Pillory?”
Cerise turned to look Helen in the eye. “Roxboro’s estate. We’ll be neighbors, the duke and I. Admittedly, I was incredibly distressed over the news he had wed, but now I see things in a different light. I believe you to be correct.”
“I was?” A horrible, sinking sensation pooled in her stomach.
“Roxboro could not break his betrothal to Lady Sophia. I can see that now. I don’t like it, mind you, but, well, as…neighbors,” the word hovered in the air. “I can visit the duke whenever I like. Lowell is acquainted with Roxboro. I believe they’ve known each other for ages.”
Oh, dear God.
“My lady—” Helen cleared her throat, trying to choose her words with care so as not to set off Cerise who might cause a scene. “Do you think that wise?”
“I only wanted your opinion on the gown, Miss Cosgrove.” Cerise said over her shoulder. “Not anything else.”
Helen clamped her lips together. There was no opinion she could offer that Cerise would appreciate. Her charge was so self-absorbed, so conceited and vain, she would never see reason. What sort of woman weds a decent man like Lowell only so she might dally with a sot of a duke?
Possibly not a sot. Helen had only ever caught a hint of wine on Roxboro, nothing else. Nor had he ever seemed intoxicated. Which was strange, given the gossip.
“Stop frowning, Miss Cosgrove. Whatever you feel the need to say, I suggest for your sake, you remain silent. I can have you sacked with or without my father’s permission,” she trilled. “After the things you’ve done.”
Helen’s hands curled into fists. She’d done nothing, but Galway would never believe it. Blackmailed by Cerise. Fine, let the girl become a harlot. What did it matter. Once Helen was paid for her services in full, as promised when Cerise was wed, the girl could sleep with every man in London.
Wandering back into the shop, she paused to peruse a selection of ribbon, rubbing the velvet between her forefinger and thumb, fuming all the while.
Helen had long ago learned to control her temper; however, today’s events had her struggling to regain her composure.
Cerise was a terrible person. But so was Roxboro.
Helen’s heart pinched a bit.
Leaving his new duchess barely days after the wedding. Lurking about in doorways to catch the unsuspecting lady’s companion for the purposes of seduction. Using her for his own jaded amusement.
She lifted her chin.
Possibly, the duke and Cerise deserved each other. Her sympathy would be saved for Lady Sophia and Lord Lowell.
Inhaling slowly through her nose to calm her annoyance, Helen studied the ribbons displayed on the counter, before turning her chin towards the window.
Shamefully, part of Helen hoped Roxboro might reappear, but he did not.
What had he been doing on Bond Street? And dressed in such a flashy manner.
More like some charlatan than a duke. Strange.
An hour or so later, Cerise reappeared. She floated around the shop, pausing only to say hello to Lady Caster and her niece, before finally drifting reluctantly towards Helen.
“I am ready to depart, Miss Cosgrove,” Cerise announced.
“Yes, my lady.”
When they returned home, it was to find Lord Galway still gone, but he’d at least had the courtesy to send his daughter a note explaining his absence.
“The urgent business matter Father is seeing to at Warren Hill,” Cerise informed her in a lofty tone.
“Is taking far longer than he’d anticipated.
I am permitted to enjoy a ride in the park with Miss Cosgrove.
Lowell may call again.” Her lovely features twisted into something ugly.
“Nothing else.” She pushed the note at Helen.
“I am not permitted anywhere,” Cerise wailed dramatically.
“Until his return.” She stomped up the stairs in a flurry of skirts, nearly bowling over a maid carrying an armful of linens.
“Splendid.” Helen made her way to the drawing room. “I hope the lack of activity will force her to reconsider the idiocy of her intentions.” Unlikely, but one could hope.
For the next week, Galway remained gone and Cerise terrible, so Helen took her meals in the kitchen, conversing pleasantly with Cook and Cerise’s maid, Kate.
Callers were turned away save for Lowell.
Parker, more concerned with following Galway’s instructions than worried over Cerise’s tantrums turned Lady Hester away. Twice.
Today, an abundance of fresh air was required after being forced to endure the call from Lowell.
Watching Cerise flirt and bat her lashes at the doomed earl in the drawing room for nearly two hours, left one feeling stifled and overwrought.
Helen had wanted to spend the afternoon reading a book she’d picked up some time ago.
A romantic novel of sorts, about a lord who becomes a pirate.
Complete drivel. The sort of thing Cerise might read if the girl ever picked up a book.
Helen had nearly made it out the doors to the terrace, when the sound of footsteps came from behind along with a sob.
“Miss Cosgrove.” Kate hurried towards Helen, wringing her hands.
“Yes, Kate, what is it? Another tantrum?” She cleared her throat and corrected herself. “I meant, is Lady Cerise distressed? Has there been bad news from His Lordship?” Helen’s first unkind thought was that perhaps Galway had been thrown from his horse and broken his neck.
Shameful Helen. Unkind.
“Oh Miss Cosgrove, it is much, much worse.” Kate wiped at her eyes.
Taking the maid’s hand, Helen murmured soothing words until the maid managed to calm.
“You must help me, Miss Cosgrove.”
Well that sounded…. concerning.
“I will do whatever I can, Kate. Now tell me, what has happened?”
“I—you must—explain to Lady Cerise that I would never—” The maid started weeping in earnest. “If she accuses me—”
“Never do what?”
“The pendant. I can’t find it no matter how I look,” Kate whispered.
“The pretty one with the emeralds and such.” Another sob.
“I can’t find it anywhere.” She shook her head so hard her cap listed to the side.
“Gone or missing, I don’t know which. But I didn’t take it.
I wouldn’t. When His Lordship returns, he’ll accuse me of thievery, like he did poor Tam. ”
Tam had been a footman last year who’d been wrongly accused of stealing a ruby ring that belonged to Cerise, later found rolled up in a stocking.
“Cease weeping. I’m sure we’ll find the pendant if we look a bit harder.
” Kate was a good girl from the country.
She would never steal from anyone, let alone her employer.
“Lady Cerise has an entire chest full of jewels and a bad habit of tossing things about. I’m sure the pendant has only been misplaced.
” Tam had been accused and sacked before the ring was found and Galway didn’t care to correct his mistake. Kate was right to be concerned.
“Where is Lady Cerise now?” Helen asked.
“Drawing room,” Kate whispered. “Lady Hester arrived a short time ago. Parker tried to refuse her entry, but Lady Cerise had already seen her friend’s carriage.
My lady wished to show Lady Hester the gown for the Sopwitch ball.
She asked for the pendant to be brought and I couldn’t find it.
” Kate bit her lip. “What if she tells Parker I’ve stolen it? ”
“I’ll speak to Lady Cerise.” Helen didn’t have the heart to tell the girl that Parker likely already knew the pendant was missing given Kate had been running about the house weeping over it.
Thank goodness Lady Hester had arrived to provide a distraction.
Helen would have to ensure that Parker didn’t write to Galway of this latest development, which would be no easy task.
“I’ll end up like Tam.”
“You won’t,” Helen assured her once more. “I promise. When was the last time you recall seeing the pendant?”
“The night—” Kate hiccupped. “My lady attended Lady Stout’s ball. I’m not sure where it could have gone. I readied her for bed. Put away her things.” She shook her head. “So I must have put the pendant away, same as I always do.”
“And Lady Cerise hasn’t worn the pendant since?”
“I don’t think so, Miss Cosgrove. I would recall her asking for it sooner.”
Cerise was careless with her things, hats, gloves, jewels, no matter how expensive.
She often tossed off necklaces, bracelets, and the like without a care, leaving Kate to find them days later.
Or kick aside her gowns into heaps of silk.
Cerise once discarded a pair of ornately embroidered slippers, which cost a small fortune, because a speck of dirt was at the toe, one that took Helen only a few moments to brush off.
In all likelihood, Cerise just took off the pendant herself, dropping it somewhere in her rooms.
“Lady Cerise will be with Lady Hester for some time. Gossiping and speaking poorly of others,” Helen said.
Kate gasped, eyes wide. “Miss Cosgrove.”
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? She probably kicked the pendant under the bed or the rug, and Lady Hester’s appearance gives us plenty of time to find it. Wipe your tears. Don’t let Parker see your distress. Let’s begin our search.”
Then a weak smile broke across the maid’s freckled cheeks. “Thank you, Miss Cosgrove.”