Page 90 of The Duchess Trap
“Not doubted,” Helen said, “but feared. I have heard such differing accounts of his behavior. Some said he was rogue, destined to break your heart by cavorting with a mistress. But in other instances, he appeared to be cold as ice. I worried that even you could not reach him.”
“And now?”
Helen’s grin returned, wicked and affectionate. “Now I think ice melts faster than gossip when it stands too close to you.”
Catherine laughed outright. “You are incorrigible.”
“Undeniably. And tell me, does he know how fortunateheis?”
“Helen,” she chuckled.
“Please do remind him frequently. Men require repetition.”
They were still laughing when another familiar voice intruded. “Lady Helen.”
Helen turned, startled. “Lord Suthmeer! I did not see you there.”
Stephen was standing a few paces behind them with his hat tucked awkwardly beneath one arm. His usual confidence had deserted him; he looked, Catherine thought with amusement, rather like a schoolboy summoned before a headmistress.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” he said to Catherine with a jovial bow.
“Lord Suthmeer,” she replied, amused. “I hope you are enjoying the party.”
“Indeed, quite.” His gaze darted to Helen and back. “I had meant to inquire after Lady Helen’s father, but he seems in excellent health, so—well?—”
Helen’s brow lifted. “My father is perfectly well, Lord Suthmeer. I assure you, he does not require constant inquiry.”
He colored slightly. “No, of course not. I only—well?—”
“Only wished for an excuse,” Catherine supplied kindly.
Helen shot her a look that promised retribution, but her cheeks were pink now, and Stephen, for once, smiled without artifice.
“I had better fetch you a drink, Lady Helen,” he said, recovering himself. “Would you permit me the honor?”
Helen hesitated, then relented. “Very well. But if you return with anything weaker than champagne, I shall be disappointed.”
He bowed again, rather too deeply, and vanished toward the refreshment table.
Helen exhaled, shaking her head. “Men.”
“Men,” Catherine agreed, though warmth lingered in her tone. “He is quite taken with you.”
“I know,” Helen said softly, watching his retreating form. “It’s terrifying.”
Catherine smiled. “You’ll survive it.”
“Will I?” Helen asked, glancing back at her. “You make it sound easy, being adored.”
“It isn’t,” Catherine admitted.
Her eyes drifted across the garden, where Duncan was speaking with Lord Penworth. His profile was outlined against the lantern light, strong and composed. Even from a distance, she could sense his presence as surely as if his hand was still resting at her back.
“But it’s worth it,” she finally added.
Helen followed her gaze, her expression gentling. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I believe it must be.”
CHAPTER 25
