Page 5 of A Dream of Redemption
Lady Helen was his angel. She was the purest, most innocent, kind, and beautiful person he’d ever had the privilege to meet. She’d been so kind to a young man sitting on the floor in the corridor worrying when Her Grace had been injured. Taking the time to reassure him. But he’d been too wracked with pain to think much about her then.
He could still remember the moment he’d fallen under her spell. He had arrived for his first day in his new role, and he came out of his office to see a vision of purity and beauty standing in the foyer. From his life of darkness and sin, she was the glowing light of goodness.
The front door was open and the sun was shining behind her, giving her an ethereal glow. Her fair hair was piled on top of her head and laced with pearls that glinted in the sunlight. She was dressed in a gown of emerald, and it made the green of her eyes stand out in her clear, creamy complexion.
When she saw him she smiled. He barely heard her say hello as she walked toward him. Her face was exquisite. Her eyes were filled with warmth, and her luscious lips looked completely void of sin. It was obvious that she had no idea just how stunningly gorgeous she was.
He could barely breathe.
So pure. So innocent. So perfect…
He fell in love instantly.
Then he’d remembered that he was not good enough to lick the dirt off of her dainty slippers. He had always kept his distance because he was too scared to be near her in case his sordid past tainted her in some way. He ran his hand through his hair and chased those memories away.
His other hand slipped into his jacket pocket and gripped the key he found there.Remember what you have to lose.His fingers stroked the cold iron as he tried to calm the panic that rose.
She already haunted his nights. Now he would see her every day.
He would have to spend much of his time in her company.
It would be heaven.
It would be torture.
He could hardly wait.
Chapter 2
That afternoon, Clary tried to concentrate on the ledger in front of him, but all he could see was the image of Lady Helen. She’d called to collect Marisa to go to another ball last night.
Like a blind man who’d suddenly got his sight back, he’d drunk in her beauty. He had hidden behind his slightly open study door and peered at her through the crack. She’d been a vision in her pale apricot gown. It was the first time in his life that he wished he could attend a high society ball. He’d love to see her waltz.
He’dlove to waltz with her. To have her in his arms on the dance floor would be pure heaven.
Fool.He let out a groan. That would never happen. He would never be accepted in her world. He was lowly born, the lowest of the low. He had no idea of his surname. He’d been so young when left on a street corner with nothing but the little hand of his younger brother, Simon, wrapped in his. So he’d simply made up his own surname. Homeward—he wanted to go home and he was determined to set forth and find his mother. On that day he became Clarence Homeward. It had been Her Grace who had shortened it to Clary.
He shuddered as dark memories flooded his mind. He swore he would never do anything that would see either himself or Simon end up back in the gutter. Never again would he sell himself just to have food in order to live.
He could feel the key to his bachelor rooms sitting heavy in his pocket.
Her Grace had given him a chance to leave that life behind—and Simon too. He owed her everything.
Clary threw his quill on the desk and rubbed his face with his hands.
Deep down inside he knew working with Lady Helen would only lead to trouble. She unsettled him. Made him want things he never thought he’d ever want. He knew he should not want more from his life than he already had because if there was a God, and Clary was doubtful, he’d already had as much divine intervention as any man could hope for.
Her Grace had been his savior.
He stood and moved to the window that overlooked the cobblestone street. What would those who lived in luxury in this street, who peered out from behind the curtains each night as he walked home, think if they knew what he’d once been. They’d likely lock up their children.
He straightened his cravat. Helen would be arriving soon. This afternoon he would have to spend time in her presence and guide her through her role of helping to evaluate an orphanage.
Only yesterday he’d tried to explain to Marisa why letting Lady Helen take on this project was not a good idea. He’d pointed out that they had no idea what they might find at the orphanage and that Helen was not experienced in the evil ways of this world. He was uncomfortable with being put in a position where he would have to explain delicate matters. He knew he could not do that. How could he taint someone so innocent with life’s horrible truths?
Marisa had laughed and told him that Helen was not naïve. She had assured him that she had not told Helen anything of his background. It was over to him how much he wanted to share.
Share?Never!
