The Haunted Duke (The Lost Duke #4)

Prologue

“Well, do you not look so very pretty!”

Helena flicked her green eyes up to the mirror and smiled when she saw her mother. She turned around, making sure the skirts of her favorite pink taffeta evening gown billowed out a little.

Lady Robinson smiled warmly at her as she moved closer, but Helena still noticed the slight sadness in her mother’s eyes. It had been there for the past four years.

“Your talent with a needle has become remarkable,” Mary-Anne noted, her voice trembling slightly.

She reached out to the small expanse of skirt where a tear had been. Now, an embroidered pink-and-gold flower bloomed completely over it.

“Well, after a little bit of practice, I have discovered that mending is no more difficult than embroidery,” Helena replied triumphantly.

Her sunny smile slipped a little as she raised her white-gloved hands and saw the tea stain near her wrist.

“Stains, though…” she sighed. “Stains are still a mystery to me. I have tried lye, salt, and sand. Yet I still fail. No matter, though,” she added cheerily. “I will find a solution in time. For now, it is nothing a good accessory cannot disguise.”

She shook her head, her smile returning as she reached for her small, matching reticule, the strap of it covering the stain perfectly.

Mary-Anne laughed softly as she shook her head and cupped her daughter’s rosy cheeks.

“Oh, my girl, how I wish we could afford new gloves like we used to.”

Helena gently grasped her mother’s hand.

“There is always a solution, Mama. The task is simply to find it. You taught me that, remember? Now, would you mind helping me pin up my hair? I will be visiting the opera. Mr. Winterbourne was kind enough to procure tickets, and I do not wish to be late.”

Mary-Anne gently patted Helena’s cheeks before letting her go and encouraging her to sit down.

As she styled Helena’s long, thick, wheat-blonde hair into an elegant updo, Helena picked up her nearly empty porcelain jar of lip balm.

She carefully removed her stained, nearly worn glove and used her pinky to scrape out the last of the product, smoothing it over her full lips.

She tried not to worry about using the last bit of it as she pinched her cheeks to give herself a little more color. It was not as if she had run out of something she needed. They had far more serious things to worry about.

Her heart twinged at the thought. So much had changed since they had lost her father.

At one time, their family had owned several estates throughout England.

Their staff had been large, and with overflowing coffers, Helena and her mother had spent a good bit of their time shopping for the latest fashions and lunching with the other wealthy ladies of the ton.

When Lord Robinson had been declared dead, the vast amounts of money in his accounts had gone. It would have been more than enough for them to survive on, but it had all seemed to vanish at the same time he had.

Snapping herself out of the spiral of forlorn thought, Helena smacked her lips together with a loud pop and then grinned at her reflection.

“Do you like it?” Mary-Anne asked tentatively.

“It looks perfect, Mama,” Helena promised, gently patting at the pretty bun her mother had formed.

She rose from her seat and turned to hug her mother tightly.

Again, she felt another bout of worry as she wrapped her arms around her mother’s small form.

Neither of them had ever been robustly shaped, but with their recent financial restrictions, their figures, including her little brother’s, seemed to grow a little smaller with each passing month.

“I am so happy you have such good friends to take you out despite our situation,” Mary-Anne said as they pulled back and held one another’s shoulders. “Do enjoy yourself, but please be careful.”

“Of course, Mama. We will be properly chaperoned,” Helena promised as someone knocked on Helena’s door.

“Are they already here to fetch me?” Helena called through the door.

“No, Miss,” her maid, Aggie, called from the other side. “It is Lord Ingram. He is here to request a visit from her Ladyship. Is she with you?”

Beneath her palms, Helena felt her mother’s shoulders tense immediately.

“She is,” Helena called. “Would you please give us a moment?”

Helena did not wait for Aggie’s response, knowing the young woman would respect her wishes, and she focused on the anxious look clouding over her mother’s pretty face.

“Mama, what is Lord Ingram doing here again? Does he not know it is past the appropriate hour for social calls?” she asked. “He has been coming more and more frequently as of late.”

“It is nothing for you to worry about. We just have a few matters to discuss regarding his… financial assistance. Go on now. You will be late if you tarry much longer,” she said, her tone suddenly cold.

Helena pressed her lips together, torn between joining her friends and staying with her mother.

“I said go now,” Mary-Anne whispered sharply, forcing Helena to turn around. She gave her a gentle push, urging her toward the door.

“But, Mama—”

“Miss?” Aggie’s voice called once again through her door. “Your companions have arrived.”

Though still hesitant about her mother’s sudden change in nature, Helena opened the door and headed toward the stairs.

Her stomach did an odd flip as she spotted Lord Ingram waiting in the corridor.

He used to be her father’s business partner, the very man who had come to their door four years ago, to tell them that the Meridian had gone down, and that there was nothing left to recover, not even a body to bury.

He had taken it upon himself to aid them ever since, though why he needed to visit so often, and so late, was beyond her.

His gaze was unsettlingly intense as he watched her go by.

“Why, Miss Robinson, you grow prettier every day,” he murmured.

Helena’s cheeks flushed. Lost for words, she simply gave him a firm smile over her shoulder and hurried away from the house. Her chest felt constricted as she took a deep breath of the cool fall night air, trying to steady her frazzled nerves.

What does he want with these visits?

In the carriage, her friends, Mr. Jeremy Winterbourne and Miss Letty Weston, greeted her cheerily. Helena quickly welcomed the distraction her friends provided as they rode toward the opera house and, as usual, shifted easily into their discussion.

“You are wearing the pink gown again, how lovely!” Letty praised. “Oh, how I do admire your ability to take old fashions and make them look new.”

“Thank you, Letty, what a lovely thing to say,” Helena replied sweetly, ignoring the subtle hint of condescension in her friend’s tone.

“Look at the three of us, darlings!” Jeremy said, glancing between Letty and Helena with a grin. “Have you ever seen a more dashing trio? The whole house shall be staring at our box, mark my words. Though I confess I am rather more interested in who shall be looking at me.”

Both women laughed, Letty preening a little at the compliment while Helena shook her head at his theatrics.

At the opera house, the three of them settled into the box Jeremy had secured for them. While Letty engaged in conversation with the rest of their friends, Lady and Lord Brooks, Jeremy turned his attention to Helena, his usually cheerful demeanor shifting to one of panic.

“You do not truly care about the opera, do you?” he whispered vehemently.

Helena raised a curious brow as her gaze flicked to the stage and then back to him.

“Not really,” she confessed. “I just wanted to spend some time out.”

Jeremy’s relief was evident as he reached out and clutched her hand.

“Thank goodness, Helena dearest, because I did not come here to listen to this caterwauling. In truth… I have a hidden agenda,” he confessed.

“Intrigue,” she said giddily, shimmying her shoulders. “Well, do not leave me in suspense! Tell, tell!”

As the oil lamps dimmed, the two of them ducked their heads together.

“It is my grandmama again,” he whispered.

Helena gave him a pitying look. His grandmother had been after him to marry since the day he had returned from his Grand Tour two years ago, and only his brother’s babies had bought him any reprieve. Now, it seemed, his luck had run out.

“Is she pestering you about marriage again?” Helena whispered.

“Not pestering, demanding,” Jeremy muttered. “She claims her health is finally slipping away, and she needs to see me wed before she takes her last breath. Rather melodramatic, in my opinion, but a demand no less.”

Helena bit her lip, trying to suppress her giggle as Jeremy made a face of mock horror.

“Perhaps marriage would not be so bad,” Helena offered, trying to be helpful. “Besides, you are a man. You can marry any woman you like. It is not as if you had to drop out of your debut Season and fear the life of a spinster.”

This time, it was Jeremy who gave her a pitying look, knowing that she was referring to her own woes. She had barely been out a month when her father was lost at sea, and with the troubles that swiftly followed with his loss, she had had no choice but to step away from society.

“You do not deserve to be alone and a spinster,” Jeremy whispered, squeezing her hand. “As I do not deserve to be married to a woman my grandmother chooses for me.”

Helena sighed. “If only we could both have what we truly wanted.”

Jeremy’s lips twitched toward a smile as hope glittered in his green eyes.

“What if we could?” he asked. “What if we got married?”

Helena’s gasp was so sudden and loud that Letty turned to them and glared as she pressed a finger to her lips. Jeremy shot her a sassy look back and quickly focused back on Helena.

“What do you say?” he whispered.

“I say you have lost your mind!” she whispered vehemently back. “How could that possibly give us what we both want?”

“Because we are the dearest of friends,” he replied, his eyes pleading. “I would see you well cared for. And if we married, I wager we would each still have the freedom to be ourselves. Our marriage would be a boon!”