Page 50 of The Scandalous Deal of the Scarred Lady
But it was also terrifying to think what terrible punishment would be meted out upon her for her behavior.
When Phoebe spoke, she seemed somewhat resigned. “Helena, I can only imagine what my dead sister would think to hear such a tale from your lips. Your behavior is absolutely appalling, and should your father find out about it, I shudder to think of the consequences.”
Helena shuddered despite herself. Deciding it was time to grow up and face the consequences for her actions was one thing. Actually, experiencing those consequences quite another. She had no doubt he would banish her to the country estate after this and never allow her out at all. Why…he might even take Phoebe from her.
Panicked now, Helena reached for her aunt’s hands. “Please, Aunt Phoebe, what do I need to do to make this right? I was already trying. I swear to you that my only intent in meeting him was to tell him the bargain is null and void. He can keep the brooch. I have no care for it anymore, and if it helps him somehow, maybe it will serve as payment for the damage I have already done him.”
Phoebe pursed her lips as she thought. “Your heart is in the right place, my sweet child, but you are entirely risking far too much in meeting him like that. Should Bridget be delayed, the scandal would be incredible. No, it is best you return to your rooms. Allow me to go in your place. I will explain things in a way that I think will leave everyone well satisfied.”
Helena’s heart leapt within her breast. While she longed so to see him again, to speak with him privatelywastoo great a risk. Maybe it was better this way after all.
Still, she could not help but feel a twinge of disappointment that left her stomach churning and warring against the knowledge that this was indeed the right thing to do. She’d also wanted to see him, to be with him, even under the watchful gaze of her chaperone, because to be without him left a pang of sadness within her that could not be erased.
Maybe that is my penance, for acting so selfishly,she thought as she nodded miserably and returned to her door. Her footsteps lagged, and somehow the walk to her room became a journey of a thousand miles.
“Thank you, Aunt Phoebe,” she said quietly as she passed, pausing outside her room with her hand on the doorknob. “Tell him…” She tried to think, but none of the words in her mind were adequate to the task. “Tell him I am more sorry than he could ever possibly realize,” she said finally.
Then taking a deep breath, she slipped into the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.
It is better this way, she thought stubbornly as she leaned heavily on the door, too tired suddenly to go any further.
She did not start crying until she was sure her aunt was long gone and not likely to overhear her.
Chapter 33
Lucy had been restless ever since James had left. She could not get it out of her mind that this whole matter was entirely her fault — and that James did not know all the facts of the matter. There was a great deal he did not realize about the Duke of York or those within his household.
So, it was that Lucy drifted throughout the manor, noting the small inconsistencies, the tasks that were not getting done. Since he had lost his fortune, a full third of the staff had left, and she would not count on the next third to stay much longer. Rooms had grown dusty, the many bedrooms in the house felt empty in a way that they never had.
We always maintained the house to be ready for guests in an instant. It feels like defeat to cover over the furniture with sheets and to shut the doors as though no one will ever set foot in those rooms again.
The staff she met seemed downtrodden, moving through their assigned tasks, sometimes trying to do the work of two people in a desultory manner. Many came from families that had served the Duke’s family for generations. These would stay until the last, though they were clearly worried.
Finally, she could take her own lack of a role with the household no longer. She had shuffled behind the scenes for too long. Noting that cobwebs graced the fine old portraits in the great hall, Lucy went to find a broom to knock them down.
She stood a long moment before the portrait of the most recent Duke, the one who had preceded her beloved James. She studied the stern expression, her own eyes softening a little for she remembered the Duke as one who loved to laugh, though she perhaps had given him little reason to.
“I told you I would look after him, but I have not done a good job of it, have I?” she asked and stretched to knock down the cobwebs, not quite reaching to the upper corners of the painting. The man in the painting made no answer, nor did she expect him to. Yet the somber gaze seemed to her somewhat censorious. With a grimace she eyed a nearby chair and rather than ask for help from one of the footmen, she dragged it over, beneath the painting and stretched a second time to finish the task she had started.
The chair wobbled beneath her feet.
Lucy clutched at the wall trying to steady herself, but her hands slid, having nothing to give her purchase. In desperation, she grabbed at the heavy frame hoping it was secure enough.
The broom clattered to the floor beneath her. Lucy looked down following its movements, and so didn’t see until it was too late that she had somehow dislodged the enormous frame. The entire painting seemed to hang above her for a moment attached to nothing at all, before it too went tumbling down, taking Lucy to the floor with it.
Chapter 34
James finally woke the Duke by shaking him firmly by the arm, until he’d snorted and come to an awareness of his surroundings. Luncheon was long since passed, and the servants had seemed most troubled at not being able to clear away the dishes with dinner so soon in the offing.
On the whole, it had been a deadly dull afternoon with nothing to do other than wait politely for the Duke of York to awaken. James had spent the time in planning out a finer courtship for his Lady, starting with a series of concerts and plays that he wished they could see.
He had been troubled by the problem with the ill-breeding of his fellow theatre-patrons. The surprise that some had experienced came only because they did not know Helena. He suspected that given time and exposure, the local elite would take to her in no time. After all, did they not already know her aunt? It was a wonder she had not been accepted previously just on the strength of that acquaintance.
But he also just wished for time spent in her company. Quiet walks or the sharing of a book. The indulgence of evenings spent in music and card games and fine companionship.
If she were uncertain of him, it was only due to that blasted brooch. He would give her his five visits and a hundred more until she realized that it was her, he was interested in and not some ridiculous piece of jewelry.
She should already realize it given he had returned that jewelry.
