Prologue #2
“Oh, Jeremy, you know how dear you are to me. And I know that I am not likely to find the husband of my dreams now, not after losing so many Seasons, but… but I only wanted to marry for love.”
“You know that I love love.” Jeremy tilted his head, studying her in the dim light. “Is there someone, then? Someone you love?”
The letters.
Her heart throbbed as she remembered the start of her Season those four years ago.
There had been many suitors, most of them handsome and kind, but the one she remembered most fondly was the one who remained a mystery.
The one who had written her the most beautiful letters and sent her gorgeous bouquets of blue hydrangeas.
His written words had stirred those deep romantic feelings she had always hoped to feel, but on the day they were supposed to meet in person, he never showed up.
“No,” she said at last, and was surprised at how much the small word cost her. “There is no one. I just… I never imagined myself having a fake marriage.”
Jeremy’s lips twitched, not unkindly.
“You are being a silly goose,” he said. “But I shan’t press you. I could always ask Letty, I suppose.”
“I am sorry, Jeremy.”
“Well, would you at least consider it?” he implored.
“We could be so very gay together. You would never have to worry about me pawing at you or pressuring you for children. You could take a lover, I could take a lover, no questions asked. We could shop every week, and dance every night, and drink ourselves merry. And think of how it would help your family! They would never want for anything again.”
That gave Helena pause. She had not thought of that before, but Jeremy was right. Lifting her family out of financial stress would be wonderful. Still, she did not like the idea of not marrying for love.
But perhaps it is foolish of me to hold out for a love that may never come at all.
Helena’s mind was distracted by the time she got home that evening.
In fact, even when she turned to the opera singers, she could not focus on them.
Her thoughts were occupied with making a list of all the good and bad things a marriage to her friend could bring. So far, both lists were equally long.
She was so distracted that she almost missed the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs as she moved toward them—but then she looked up. Helena frowned when she saw Lord Ingram approaching her with a satisfied smirk.
What on earth is he still doing here?
“You did not acknowledge me earlier, little Helena,” Lord Ingram scolded lightly as he stopped in front of her. “Has your mother been remiss in lessons in manners?”
Helena fought the urge to scowl.
“Surely not, my lord,” she replied, forcing her tone to be polite. “I was simply in a hurry.”
Lord Ingram’s eyes narrowed a little as he took another step toward her, invading her personal space.
“So?” he asked.
She raised a challenging brow.
“So, what, my lord?” she replied.
“So, where is my apology?” he asked, his lecherous smile making her stomach lurch.
She tried to move, but with a quickness, his hand shot out, capturing a stray tendril of her blonde hair, stopping her. The sick feeling in her stomach grew as he rubbed the silky strand between his fingertips.
“I was remarking on how you have grown pretty. You should have at least paused long enough to give me thanks for such high praise.”
Helena’s nose crinkled as her lips drew back to reveal the barest flash of teeth.
“I do not need your praise, my lord,” she replied coldly. “Though I would appreciate knowing the reason why you are pestering my mother at so late an hour.”
Lord Ingram’s answering laugh was soft and condescending.
“You are an uppity little spirit, aren’t you?” he mused, leaning in closer. “I like uppity spirits,” he whispered into her ear. “I very much enjoy breaking them. Perhaps you should consider… taking some burden off your mother’s shoulders.”
“Let go of her!”
Through her growing tension, Helena felt a sliver of relief as she heard her mother’s voice rise from behind the appalling man. Lord Ingram huffed out a soft laugh, but he obeyed, releasing Helena’s lock of hair and taking a step back as Mary-Anne descended the stairs and came toward them.
“Remember the terms of our agreement, my lord,” Mary-Anne stated icily, stepping in between him and Helena.
From behind her mother’s shoulder, Helena watched as Lord Ingram’s left eye twitched as he continued with that sickening smile of his.
“Terms change, Lady Robinson,” he replied with a hint of condescension.
“Not this one,” Mary-Anne snapped back.
“We shall see,” Lord Ingram mused, his eyes darting over Mary-Anne’s shoulder to take one last lecherous look at Helena. “I am a patient man, and if there is anything I know how to do, it is how to tweak a deal to precisely what I want.”
He walked around both of them before Mary-Anne could reply and headed toward the door.
“Have a pleasant evening, ladies,” he called as he let himself out. “I am certain to see you both very soon.”
Helena waited until the front door was tightly shut before she let her head snap to her mother. Mary-Anne’s glassy eyes met hers, and in the next second, she was on her knees, holding her face as she began to sob.
“Mama!” Helena exclaimed, immediately moving to wrap her hands around her mother’s shaking shoulders. “Mama, what is going on? Why was he here?”
Mary-Anne just shook her head as she reached for her daughter’s hands, using them to pull herself back up.
“He is not supposed to touch you,” Mary-Anne said through shaky breaths. “He gave his word that he would not touch you.”
“Mama, tell me exactly what is going on,” she demanded.
“Never the matter,” she huffed, flicking away the last of her tears. Mary-Anne forced a smile that Helena knew was not at all real as she reached up and stroked Helena’s cheeks. “It is not for you to worry about, darling. All is well. I promise. Tell me about your evening. Did you enjoy the opera?”
Helena’s eyes shifted to the door Lord Ingram had just left through, her stomach drawn into tight knots. Her mother was lying. She had seen the way the man looked at her mother. Whatever Lord Ingram was taking in exchange for his so-called financial help, he was taking it in her mother’s bed.
How long had it gone on, her mother suffering it in silence, while Helena was none the wiser?
No more. Helena would not let her mother give her body to that man for another night, not when she had been offered a chance to stop it.
“Actually, Mama,” Helena answered, slowly bringing her mother’s hands away from her cheeks. “I have some wonderful news.”
Her heart began to race as she accepted her decision.
“Oh? What is that, my dear?” Mary-Anne asked.
“Mr. Winterbourne has asked me to marry him,” she announced.
Mary-Anne’s mood shifted in an instant. Her green eyes grew wide as she cupped her hands over her mouth, but through her splayed fingers, Helena could see her mother’s wide smile.
“Winterbourne? Is he not the brother of the Duke of Ravenshaw?” Mary-Anne asked.
“The one and the same,” Helena agreed, and she barely got the words out before Mary-Anne crowed with happiness and threw her arms around her.
“Oh, we must celebrate, my darling!” Mary-Anne insisted.
Helena laughed softly as her mother’s words came out in an emphatic burst, even as something in her heart whispered this was not right. That there was someone else out there. Someone who wrote her the most beautiful letters. Someone who made her feel seen, appreciated, and adored.
Someone who disappeared four years ago.
“We will, Mama,” she assured her, pulling away from her tight embrace. “Tomorrow, perhaps. It is late now, and it has been quite an evening.”
“Oh, yes, yes, of course,” Mary-Anne readily agreed. “Tomorrow, of course. When your betrothed comes over to discuss your engagement. Little Alex will be so excited! Oh, we are saved!”
It took several more minutes, but after Helena finally untangled herself from her very excited mother and said their goodnights, she hurried to her rooms and scribbled out a quick message to Jeremy.
“Aggie, I am sorry it is so late, but this message must be taken to Mr. Winterbourne’s residence immediately.”