Page 90 of Terms of Trade (Trade Wind 4)

Why had she accepted the unacceptable?

But the moment of truth came, and Helen faced it. “Yes.”

“That doesn’t sound…”

“Like any way to live.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t. We spoke of buying our own house; we planned on it. Something or someone always interfered.”

Her stomach turned sour. Every so often, she managed to convince herself that her past had loosened its grip on her, that she was living fully in the present, only to have the specter of yesterday eclipse everything.

You’re sitting in a London tearoom. You’re here, not there. You’re safe.

Her heart didn’t slow, however, and she couldn’t escape the hurt and fear that clutched at her as the memories flowed through her mind like an unstoppable nightmare. The discovery that Elijah and Robbie were behind the commissioning ofAlacrityand planning to run away together at last was but one facet of their betrayal.

For years, her brother had saved his earnings from his commerce at sea, just as he’d set aside his share of the proceeds from the sale of the lumberyard upon their father’s death.

While Helen and her brother had split the inheritance equally, as a married woman, her husband managed her share. They had agreed to use the funds to buy their own home, a key step in gaining autonomy from his parents. Citing their provision of the home and servants to Robbie and Helen, the Grays paid hardly any salary to their son.

For several years, Robbie reported that the funds were being invested and doing well. To this day, Helen wasn’t sure what had caused the greatest pain—discovering Robbie and Elijah’s intentions to disappear together, or finding out that her inheritance had gone intoAlacrity. Those funds had represented her only hope for the future.

Pen’s muffled gasp brought Helen back to the tearoom. The young woman was blinking rapidly, eyes shiny with nascent tears.

“What is it?”

“Lady Clara! She saw me. Acknowledged me. Then looked away.” Her voice trembled. “Not the cut direct. Not even the cut indirect. Shedidnod—but she did not invite us over!”

Understanding how serious the matter appeared to her friend, Helen stifled her amusement. “Perhaps she’s occupied. Or about to leave. I saw her with you at Palm House, Pen. She adores you. I’m sure you have nothing to be concerned about.”

“Ido! Perhaps her companion would look down on yet anothermerchant connection. Marrying James made her wife to a man in trade, and even if her friend has seen fit to overlook that, it might be too much to introduce her to me.”

Being seen as unacceptable—that was a pain Helen knew well. “I suppose I shouldn’t venture an opinion about how likely or unlikely that is. I’m baffled by all the rules here. I’d thought Boston society was intricate. But Boston is elementary arithmetic, and your London is calculus! I still don’t understand why we cannot simply rise and go over to visit with your friend.”

Pen sighed. “Friend. She is more like family, and perhaps that’s the problem. I feel vicious for saying anything untoward about her. But it’s as clear as my gowns are decorated! She sees me like a younger sister—the emphasis being onyounger! I might as well be twelve and not eighteen! Lady Clara all but pinches my cheeks.”

Having received so little of that protectiveness from anyone in her own life, even as a girl, Helen couldn’t relate to why that stung; it sounded rather charming. But knowing how competitive Pen was—and conscious of the opinions of others—she knew her friend was upset.

Pen sniffed. “Since Lady Clara married, she and Mama speak in hushed tones about matters they believe me too young to discuss. How will I ever be ready for them if I’m not even allowed tohearabout them?”

Helen murmured compassionately.

“They’re standing to leave! They must have been here right after Miss Smith’s opened to be finished already. Why ever would they be here so early?”

“Perhaps they, too, were in utterly exigent circumstances.”

“Hmm!”

“I apologize, Pen, I meant only to jest a little, not to hurt.”

“I know,” she said softly. “Youtreat me like a friend, not a pest.”

“Because youaremy friend.”

“As you are mine. Oh, Helen! I have good news for you. Wedocelebrate Christmas—and will have your Irish bread on the table. You can also try our traditional Christmas loaf.Christopsomo—Christ’s bread. It even has raisins in it! I hope Elijah will remain in London after he returns and will be there, too!”

Speechless, Helen stared down into her tea. It wasn’t difficult at all to visualize the Siderises’s home glowing with light and their table laden with special food for the holiday. If she remained in their favor, of course they would insist on her joining in, laughing along with them, debating with them on whatever subject happened to be on the family’s mind, watching the hurt feelings be soothed over by the night’s end.

They were an imperfect, perfect family.

It was early July; Elijah ought to have sailed the over fourteen thousand miles to China. Her hold filled to capacity with chests of tea leaves and porcelain,Alacrityshould be racing through the China Sea this very moment, or perhaps already the Indian Ocean, on her way back to London.

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