Page 42 of The Scandalous Deal of the Scarred Lady
Lollygagging!It seemed hardly fair to make such a statement when the Duke of York had not been there to bear witness to the affair at all. Helena stared at her father, crossing her arms over her chest in a direct mimicry of his own stance.
“Besides,” her father finished in triumph. “Had the Duke been aware of his surroundings at all, none of this would have happened. How was it you came to be so late to leave the theatre? You said he had misplaced a glove?”
His tone left little doubt over what he thought of a man who could not keep track of the most basic of possessions. All of this was fast becoming more unfair by the minute, for had it not been Helena’s own fault he had pretended to lose the glove in the first place? Had she not embarrassed him so that he felt forced to leave when no one could bear witness as to who he escorted, none of this would have happened.
Helena let her arms fall, realizing her own defiance only fueled the ill feeling toward the Duke of Durham. “Father, I feel I need to apologize. As you say, it was my own actions that led us to lag behind the rest. I humbly accept whatever punishment you choose to bestow.”
The apology might have been a little over the top, especially given the way she bowed her head and awaited his pronouncement, but there was a certain truth to her words. Her behavior had been monstrous at best.
Her father though only chuckled, and when she cracked an eyelid to regard him warily, he laughed outright.
“Helena…child…” He held his arms out to her and drew her close in a paternal embrace. “You do take on so. When you are perhaps older, you will come to understand that the role of the man in society is to protect those who are under his care. The fault is clearly upon the Duke, and I shall indeed have to take action in this regard come morning.”
She accepted the embrace though she could not help but think that she had in fact, had the matter well in hand by the time the Duke or anyone else had come to her assistance. Would not society function better if the world were expected to take care of each other equally?
None of this could be said out loud, of course. She only flinched and held her tongue, trusting that whatever punishment one duke chose to mete out on another would at least be civilized, and likely no worse than this dressing down she had just been given.
Not that she wouldn’t owe the Duke an apology, but she had already planned on penning just such a letter. What mattered in having one more transgression to add to the list?
So, she allowed herself to be coddled, scolded and sent to her room, taking her leave from her father with a certain relief. Things could, after all, have gone much much worse.
Sadly, Phoebe didn’t share her assurance when she joined her in the hall where she had been bid to wait.
“Words fail me, child,” she said with a shake of her head, but her expression was thoughtful. She had stayed behind a moment to consult with the Duke, likely in regards to Helena’s own punishment. Helena sighed and awaited the pronouncement that would likely remove the harp from her activities for a time.
“I am most sorry about all of this, Aunt Phoebe,” Helena said as they ascended the stairs together. Helena felt weary suddenly, as though her chambers were too far to walk. Now that the danger was past, and the punishment meted out, she only wanted to return to her room and sleep if she could convince her own thoughts to quiet and be still for the remainder of the night.
Phoebe only shook her head. “You do seem to lead a charmed life, child. If you had been my daughter, I daresay you would not leave your room for a fortnight. Your father will see you in the morning,” and surprisingly left it at that. They parted at Helena’s chamber door, saying quiet good nights before each going their separate ways.
To her surprise, it was not Tess, but Bridget who awaited Helena in her room to help her undress and prepare for bed.
It was in seeing that dear, familiar face that all of Helena’s strength left her in a rush. She had been held together by sheer determination until this moment. Now, only with Bridget’s comforting plump arms around her in a warm embrace, could Helena finally cry.
“Oh, Bridget…I have lost him…”
And so the entire story tumbled out, from the moment she’d gone downstairs and met the Duke at the door — though it was likely Antony had already shared that part of things — to her own dreadful behavior that had rendered the Duke so speechless that he had failed to say more than a dozen words in the journey home, and nearly none at the door, save a quick pressure of his hand upon hers as he wished her good night.
Bridget frowned as she helped Helena out of her dress and helped her into her nightclothes. Helena sat where she was placed, barely noticing as Bridget unpinned Helena’s hair and began to unbraid the stubborn plaits.
“Are you sure you understood the meaning to be so clear?” she asked finally, pausing to rest one hand upon her hip as she regarded her charge in the mirror. “That there could be no other reason for the Duke to have delayed his leaving? The glove could well have been dropped as an accident.”
Helena gave her dearest friend a somewhat withering look. While Helena had very little to base her knowledge upon, it seemed that this had been quite clearly a ruse to delay their leaving until the lobby would be empty of his peers.
“Truly, I feel I have created a problem for the Duke. His reputation was already at risk before he ever called upon me. Not that it was ever any of his fault,” she added this last in haste before Bridget could get the wrong idea entirely.
“You are not troubled that the man has lost his fortune?” Bridget asked, one eyebrow raising delicately as she took a hairbrush to Helena’s long locks with renewed vigor.
“He has only to start again, with the ship that Father wishes to provide, to have it again. Of this I have no doubt,” Helena declared loyally.
Bridget snorted and continued to pull the brush through Helena’s hair. It was no answer, but still somehow managed to convey a wealth of feeling in that single sound.
Again, Helena flinched, but for entirely different reasons, for her, it seemed Bridget was set upon removing every last hair from her head, in her enthusiasm. Finally, she covered the top of her head with her hands and cried, “Enough!”
Bridget pried the girl’s hands from her head. “Sit still and allow me to finish, or you will never have the tangles out in the morning.”
Helena twisted upon the stool and stared at Bridget, her eyes wide in startled surprise. “Are you angry with me? Bridget, have I upset you?”
Bridget let the hairbrush fall and stood, staring helplessly at the girl. “My lovely girl, I have been here since I saw you take your first breath. I have prayed for you and over you since I dandled you upon my knee. But to be sure, I have never seen such foolishness as I have here tonight, and I must confess I find it frustrating in the extreme.”
