Page 29 of A Dream of Redemption
Fairfax bent over her hand, pressing his lips a bit too firmly to her gloved knuckles. “I have longed for an introduction to the beauty who can stand out amongst such beauties.”
She almost giggled seeing Beatrice roll her eyes behind his ego-inflated back.
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, my lord,” she answered coolly.
He looked momentarily flustered that his endearment did not evoke a more favorable response. “I was hoping you would indulge me with a turn on the dance floor.”
The women looked at her expectantly. She rarely danced at any ball now. At the age of three and twenty she was considered almost on the shelf. Most men looking for a wife danced with the younger ladies. That suited her. She preferred to hide within the group of married ladies. However, she could hardly refuse without causing a scene. “Since you ask so nicely…”
Like Moses parting the Red Sea the guests in the overcrowded ballroom stepped back, making a path to the floor as he led her out, as if she were some trophy on his arm.
To her annoyance a waltz suddenly started, and she wondered if he had set that up at the beginning of the evening with this plan in mind.Now who’s arrogant?Why would Fairfax bother for her? Yes, she was beautiful but there were many beautiful debutantes, most more than willing to look favorably on a match with Lord Fairfax.
“You honor me, Lady Helen. I’ve been told you rarely dance at any ball.”
That’s when she spied the group of Lord Fairfax’s dandies standing at the far end of the dance floor. Some of them were laughing. Others were shaking their heads. She noted pieces of paper changing hands and her mouth firmed.
“Perhaps I should receive a cut of your winnings since I obliged you in a dance.”
He almost tripped them in the middle of the floor, and his face turned bright red. “Whatever do you mean?”
She sighed. “Do I really have to explain it to you? Or shall we simply finish the dance and you can walk me back to the ladies and never grace my presence again or I shall let every young lady know what you did—oh, and of course my brother.”
His face lost all color. He’d been caught wagering on a lady’s agreement to dance a waltz. Not any lady, but the Marquis of Coldhurst’s sister. Sebastian’s reputation with duels was legendary. They finished the dance in silence, and he escorted her back to her sister-in-law, Beatrice, without another word.
As he made his way back across the floor she hoped he drowned on the glass of whiskey that was shoved into his hand as some of the men clapped him on the back. It struck her like an acorn-sized hailstone that Clary was more of a gentleman than any lord she’d ever met.
“Don’t ever make me do that again,” she said to the ladies.
Beatrice said, “I think you came through it head held high. He behaved like a gentleman for a change. His hands stayed above your waist and not once did he let them roam.” She smiled at Helen. “What did you threaten him with?”
She shook her head with a laugh. “I learned from you all. You ladies are a force to be reckoned with.”
Beatrice hugged her. “It doesn’t hurt to have a brother who has a reputation for dueling—and winning.”
Beatrice led her away from the group of ladies, and they headed for the retiring room. “I have hardly seen you of late, even though we share the same house.” Once inside Beatrice noted that they were alone before saying, “Marisa has told me that you have thrown yourself into your role of patroness at the orphanage. Do you need help organizing a luncheon to raise funds? I’d love to help.”
Helen sat in front of the dresser mirror and began to re-pin her hair where a few strands had come loose. At Beatrice’s kind offer she swung to face her. “That would be wonderful. I’d like to raise enough money to employ a seamstress for Southwark and each of the other orphanages. She can teach the girls to sew, and they can make clothes for the children. Some of the girls might like to make their living that way. I’m conscious we need to train them in roles where they can earn an honest living.”
Beatrice sat beside her on the chaise longue. “The orphanage means a lot to you.”
“I challenge any woman to visit these places and not want to do all they can for the children. When I was young I used to hate my life. How naïve was I? I now know there are far worse things than being the daughter of wealthy, self-absorbed parents who fought all the time. When they died, but for a matter of birth and an older brother, I could have ended up in a place like the Southwark Home for Orphaned Children.”
Beatrice patted her hand. “My family and I would have ended up in the poorhouse if I had not had the courage to confront your brother. They are even worse. He helped my family before he loved me. I thank the Lord every day for his good heart and love.” Beatrice shivered. “Life is often not fair, is it?”
Helen nodded in agreement. “Clary says I’m going to end up disillusioned because I won’t be able to save the world. Sometimes I think he’s right.”
“Clary?” Beatrice raised an eyebrow.
Helen could not look her friend in the eye. “Mr. Homeward, I mean.”
Beatrice said nothing for a moment. Finally she spoke. “He’s a very handsome young man.” When Helen said nothing, she added, “While I’m sure Marisa has her reasons for employing Mr. Homeward, I don’t think it would be wise to become overly familiar with him.”
“You are being a snob. He is a perfect gentleman, in fact, he’s more of a gentleman than Lord Fairfax ever could be.” She knew she should not have defended Clary so strongly, but Lord Fairfax’s behavior made her blood boil.
Beatrice’s face clouded in worry. “I really would advise you to be careful where Mr. Homeward is concerned.” She seemed about to say more but stopped. “Please, just talk with your sister. There are things about him you need to know.”
“Then why don’t you tell me?”
