Page 49 of The Scandalous Deal of the Scarred Lady
“I have ever striven to become an integral part of this household, and serve where I may,” Miss Barlowe replied softly. “Helena has always been a delightful child, though her affliction has been most challenging. I fear she will ever need me throughout her life, though I mind not, she is such a charming girl. I have never minded being mistress of this household. I do my best on the family’s behalf.”
“Is Lady Barrington then too sick to take her rightful place within the manor?” James asked in some surprise, for she had seemed rather hale, and even hearty as she had fought the cutpurse in the street only last night.
“She is very delicate of nature. As you saw today, the effects of the excitement from yesterday have been severe. Though I bid you to worry not about her, as I will see that she is quite well enough to stand dinner at table.”
James turned his head to see what Barrington had to say on all of this, but the man was leaning half out of his chair, head tilted back his mouth open. As he watched, there came a might inhale of breath that ended in a rumbling snore. The Duke’s glass lay overturned next to his place, the last dregs of wine decorating that tablecloth already well-stained.
Miss Barlowe followed his gaze, and though she tried hard to school her features, there was a certain tightening around eyes and mouth that bespoke of a particular frustration that he was not meant to see. “As you can see, this household comes with its own unique challenges. If you will excuse me.” With that, she rose and lay her napkin on the table.
She reminded him so much of Lucy at that moment, with her brave dignity, that James felt compelled to say, “I do not know if anyone ever thinks to tell you such things, but I want you to know that your efforts here do not go unnoticed.”
“You are indeed kind, Your Grace,” she said softly, her eyes brightening as she curtseyed and took her leave.
A servant came in a moment later, a young man James remembered having met in the hallway when he’d come in, the young man being on duty to tend the door though few visitors would be expected on such a day as this. “I was bid to give this note to the Duke.” He glanced uneasily toward the slumbering figure at the end of the table.
“I will see that he gets it,” James murmured, suddenly unsure how one proceeded in this situation.
The servant gave the paper into his hands with relief. James settled back in his chair and pondered the situation. He honestly had no idea quite what to do. To fetch a servant and have them take His Grace upstairs would be possibly demeaning, and certainly not a way to curry favor with the man whose daughter he would still wed despite everything he had heard.
In fact, he was more determined than ever to bring her to his home. If she proved to need assistance, then perhaps they could install Miss Barlowe as her companion there as well, if the arrangement had worked out so well here.
Musing thus, James settled back in his chair. It seemed the only recourse was to wait until his host awoke, however long it took.
Chapter 32
Helena could not bear to sit in her room another minute. But to go downstairs too soon would seem eager. What if the Duke of Durham heard her playing her harp long before their rendezvous? He would know then, that she had arrived early and had been waiting for him for some time. Yet the harp was the very thing that would relax her now.
She picked up several books and tried to read to no avail. She even tried to take a nap, which proved disastrous. She dozed lightly, only to be awakened when a servant girl came in with wood for her fire, startling them both. Helena had sat up, groggy and disoriented and sent the girl running.
Ever the beast,she thought grimly.I truly must ... must make an effort to change.
Finally, she could bear it no longer. Perhaps she could spend some time with Bridget in the kitchen watching her work the way she had as a child. She had not done so in such a long time, that she remembered the warmth of the workspace now with a particular fondness. Besides, then they could go together to the parlor, though Bridget had promised to be there right at the appointed time, despite the busyness of the kitchen.
“I shall have Maureen manage the serving up. Do not worry yourself, old Bridget will be there,” she had promised then gone back to supervising the peeling of the vegetables for the night’s stew.
Helena slipped out of her room and was halfway to the stairs when she heard a door open behind her. It was the voice of her aunt that stopped her. Helena almost automatically scratched at the lesion on her wrist through her glove as she turned to face Phoebe, who looked none too happy to be there.
“Yes, Aunt Phoebe?” she asked pleasantly, wishing she were better skilled in subterfuge for surely it had to be written upon her face that she was going to a secret meeting with her would-be lover.
“Why are you out of your room? I thought I told you clearly you were not to leave until dinner as punishment for your actions last night,” Phoebe said, her eyes narrowed in the way that they always had when Helena had been caught in some mischief as a child.
She had forgotten. She had actually forgotten that her father’s punishment was to stay in her room today, but for meals until dinner, at which point she would be allowed to entertain their guest after dinner by playing something ‘pleasant’ upon her harp.
“‘Twas only for a minute…” she began, knowing full well she would get nowhere with this. Though deep inside there was a small voice that had been reminding her of late that she was no longer a child, nor able to be punished in such a way. Others of her peers had been married, already with two or three children by now, and well managed their own households. Why did her father and aunt persist in seeing her only as a child?
So, it was she lifted her chin and found her voice for perhaps the first time in her life. “I am going to the sitting room. I wish to play the harp before dinner…for practice. I fear I have not played as much of late and will not put on near so fine as a performance as we saw last night.”
Phoebe’s lips tightened. “You defy your father then?” she asked, and for a moment Helena wondered if her aunt was so hard on her because her father, in turn, would be difficult with Phoebe for not keeping his unruly daughter under control.
Was it fair of her to hurt someone else to get what she wanted? Was that not the entire reason why she was going to meet with the Duke in the first place?
Helena sighed. She was tired of lies and subterfuge. She’d had quite enough and was suddenly very tired.
“Aunt Phoebe, what I say will likely come as a surprise, but I have been lying to you for some time now. It is in regards to the Duke of Durham and his reasons for being here.”
Then before she lost her courage, she spilled out the entire story, starting with the woman who had been lost in the blizzard and ending with her decision to end the entire affair before she hurt him any further.
There was a long moment of silence as Aunt Phoebe stared at her, her face carefully expressionless. Aunt Phoebe was like that, one to think things through before answering, and so Helena waited, though her heart quailed within her. Honestly, she should not have lied for so long, and it felt a terrible relief to have the full truth out in the open.
