A Home for Helena (The Lady P Chronicles Book 2) (6 page)

She leaned in closer and locked eyes with Helena. "Have you seen any red Indians there?
Real
ones?”

“My dear, your tea is getting cold. Izzy, do fetch a fresh pot for our guest.”

Izzy bobbed and scampered away as Lady Pendleton strolled into the room.

"Good evening, Miss Lloyd. I hope you had a good doze, because there is so much to be done. I've spent some time planning out our strategy, and it will be a task of gigantic proportions to transform you into a socially-acceptable young lady."

Helena's head snapped back. "Wh-a-at? I thought you were going to help me find my family, not introduce me to the
ton."

Lady Pendleton sighed. "Helena, my dear, surely you do not expect to appear in public without any knowledge of how to conduct yourself. Being American will excuse your speech, but even Americans are expected to conduct themselves in a civilized manner."

She waved away Helena’s look of indignation. “Oh, I know Americans are not the savage boors many assume them to be. Some of my closest friends are Americans… from your century, in fact. I adore the freedom and spontaneity so prevalent in your time. Not to mention the food! I adore Big Macs, for example. But as much as I would like to introduce such a culinary oddity into my kitchens, I must concede that doing so would not enhance my reputation, or that of my household.”

She pulled a chair over in front of Helena and sat down.

“Finish your sandwich, do, before Peters returns.”

“The first thing you must learn—particularly if you should decide to live here permanently—is that reputation is
everything
.”

Helena spread butter and jam on the remaining roll and asked innocently, “But… isn’t this the same period where the Prince Regent has two wives and a boatload of mistresses?”

Lady Pendleton’s eyes narrowed. “Royals enjoy a certain latitude in their private behavior. But you can be certain that they would
never
be seen in public wearing their nightclothes, as I have witnessed in
your
time.” She aimed her probing brown eyes at Helena. “
You,
my dear, are neither royal nor noble.
Your
manners must be unexceptionable if you are to be accepted in society.”

Helena sighed. “I don’t understand why we have to waste time with this stuff. I do not wish to find a husband or become a society matron. I just want to find… where I truly belong.”

Lady Pendleton pursed her lips. “Listen to me well, Helena. It's not a society launch I'm planning—the Season is over and you're too old for it in any case."

Helena winced.

"I have agreed to assist you in this endeavor, but there is much you have yet to learn. Once you find your family—supposing we are so fortunate—you won't want to be an embarrassment to them, do you? In this world, the disgrace of one family member is shared by the rest. Would you so easily risk the reputation of the family you wish to find—and perhaps remain with? A sister, perhaps, who is being launched upon the marriage mart will never make a brilliant match if her sister has made herself a laughingstock in society. Is that worth the risk to you?”

Helena swallowed. She’d always been a loner. It had never occurred to her that her conduct could negatively affect someone else. Particularly not a sister. She’d always wanted a sister.

“N-No, of course not. But… we can’t be sure my family is aristocratic. Perhaps they are farmers or something. Aren’t the rules different for them?”

Lady Pendleton narrowed her eyes. "Any
respectable
family will expect proper behavior. And I should mention that quite often the lower and middle classes are even more rigid." She shrugged. "Of course, if you were stolen from
dis
reputable family, you may be allowed to do as you wish, but in that case, I would strongly recommend that you return to the future."

Well, that certainly put me in my place. If I find out my mom's a hooker and my dad's a john, I don't suppose this is the place for me either.

The conversation lapsed until Izzy returned with a fresh pot of tea and another cup for her mistress. Lady Pendleton dismissed her and poured tea for the two of them. After taking a long sip, she set her cup down, leaned forward, and surveyed Helena intently.

“I understand your confusion, my dear, since I have done a bit of time-traveling myself, but I know of few others who will. I am your ally. When I correct your behavior, it is only because it is imperative that you learn to fit in with our culture here. You may speak freely with me without fear of causing offense, but in the presence of others, you must promise to do your best to follow my lead.”

Helena sighed. “I will do my best, Your Ladyship.” What choice did she have? She was darned lucky to have Lady Pendleton in her corner.

Lady Pendleton smiled. “In the end, you may well find that you cannot commit yourself to remaining here permanently. There is no shame in that. You will have a magnificent adventure to look back on, one that few others will be able to share. I myself pop in and visit other eras occasionally, but my ties are here.” She took another sip of tea. “And with luck, we shall find out the truth about your origins, whatever they might be.”

An adventure. A real one, not a fantasy one to be found at Disney World. Helena’s spirits rose and she felt focused and ready for adventure.

Lady Pendleton smiled with satisfaction and stood. “Let us adjourn to my sitting room and I’ll give you a few more pointers before the house retires for the night. I’ll have
Debrett’s
brought up and we’ll see if we can find a trace of your family there. And then Mrs. Peters can show you to your room. Oh, and if you are not tired by then—as you slept most of the day—I’m sure we can find a book for you in the library. Have you read anything by Mrs. Radcliffe?”

Helena relaxed. She was beginning to like Lady Pendleton. A lot.

“
G
rosvenor Square
, Number 42,” Sir Henry called to his coachman as he climbed inside the spacious coach after James had dropped into a seat.

James raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was Tattersall’s today.”

Sir Henry rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Indeed it is. Want you to take a look at a stallion. Looking for new breeding stock after old Gabe had to be put out to pasture last month.” His white teeth gleamed in the shadowy interior of the coach as he grinned. “Duty comes first, though. Sarah reminded me before we left Kent that today is her mother’s at-home." He shook his head. "If dear Lady P discovers I was in Town and missed it, she’ll say something to Sarah that will end by disrupting my happy home.”

He leaned forward and clapped James on the shoulder. “No worries, old chap. A quarter of an hour doing the pretty and we’ll be off. Tattersall’s is practically on her doorstep, you know.”

James rolled his eyes. Lady Pendleton was well-known for her frank and intrusive manner. She had a way of looking at a person that made you think she knew what you were thinking. She was also one who never failed to remind James that he owed it to his daughter to remarry.

On one occasion, at a dinner party at Newsome Grange, he had told her in no uncertain terms to stop meddling in his life, and, after a brief moment of shocked silence, she’d thrown her head back and erupted in laughter that had silenced the entire table and delayed the presentation of the next course for a full five minutes.

“I knew I liked you, Mr. Walker,” she’d said as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “A gentleman who speaks his mind. He thinks I’m a meddler,” she informed the other guests. “Can you imagine? Me—a meddler?”

The room abounded with laughter, and Lady Sarah, with a sympathetic look, took pity on him.

“My mother is the very definition of meddlesome, Mr. Walker. It is a cross my sisters and I have borne forever, and no doubt everyone here has suffered from it as well. Never fear—it will pass.”

A quarter of an hour at Lady Pendleton's at-home? Surely he could manage to muddle through for that length of time.

A stout, gray-haired butler with friendly blue eyes greeted them at the door and led them into the drawing room, where Lady Pendleton was bidding farewell to a caller. A Mrs. Endicott, he discovered as they were introduced. She looked him over with an appraising eye, and he discerned that she must have a marriageable daughter or two. He bid her goodbye, turned his head away, and found them drawn in by the prettiest green eyes he’d ever seen.

Like the dewy fruit of the lime, they sparkled with tartness. A few strands of her red-blonde hair escaped from the knot at the back of her neck, and he had an urge to tuck them behind her ear. For all that he was sure they'd never met, there was a familiar look about her.

“Dear Henry, how kind of you to drop by. Sarah and the children are well? And you brought Mr. Walker with you as well! I’m flattered that you condescended to come to my little at-home.”

Her Ladyship, dressed in a bright yellow morning gown with big red rosettes, turned her penetrating brown eyes on him while she pulled the mystery woman to her side. “Allow me to introduce my protégée, Miss Lloyd. She is an American, the daughter of an old school friend who married and moved to the former colonies."

"Helena, this is my son by marriage, Sir Henry Newsome, and a neighbor of his, Mr. James Walker.

Miss Lloyd's face went white when she saw him and she stumbled back a step until steadying herself on the back of a nearby chair. But she recovered quickly, bowing her head slightly and offering him her hand

Was she ill? Or was she piqued by his rudeness in staring at her.

“Sir Henry is married to my youngest daughter, Sarah. A bit long in the tooth for her, but she had her mind set on him, and there was nothing else to be said.”

Sir Henry grinned as he bowed over the young lady’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Lloyd. My mother-in-law is really quite fond of me, but she enjoys pretending otherwise.” He approached Lady Pendleton and gave her an enthusiastic hug. She kissed him on the cheek and then pushed him away and began fussing with her gown.

“What Sarah ever saw in you I’ll never understand,” she sputtered, then chuckled as she returned his lighthearted gaze. “Well, perhaps I do, after all,” she confessed. “Just see to her happiness, dear Henry, or you’ll have me to deal with.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sir Henry responded, with a wink in Miss Lloyd’s direction. “Did I not promise you so at our wedding breakfast?”

Lady Pendleton narrowed her eyes. “So you did. And mind you don't forget it."

James felt a twinge of sympathy for his friend. God save him from such a mother-in-law!

He turned his attention back to the pretty Miss Lloyd, bowing politely. “Delighted to meet you, Miss Lloyd. Shall you be staying long in England?”

Miss Lloyd flushed charmingly, and it occurred to him that he had not seen a lady so pretty in years. Three years, in fact. She had a look that reminded him of his late wife. The nose. The cheekbones. The daintily-shaped ears. Anne’s eyes had been shamrock green, and her hair honey blonde. Miss Lloyd’s figure was distinctly more curvy. An attractive armful, he reflected, before giving himself a mental shake. Wherever she had come from, she was a lady and thus not eligible for the sort of connection he had in mind. He made a mental note to slip away from Sir Henry for a visit with Violet. It had been some time since his last visit. Weeks? Months?

“A few weeks, perhaps,” said Miss Lloyd.

James blinked. Surely he hadn't said that out loud.

“Helena is here to search for some cousins of her mother’s that she’s lost touch with over the years. And, of course, to enjoy the pleasures of London. It’s my hope she’ll decide to remain here.”

James smiled in relief that he hadn't slipped up.

“Ah, husband-hunting, are you?” Sir Henry tipped his head in James’s direction. “My friend here is available. A widower, you know.”

James wanted to plant his fist squarely on Sir Henry’s jaw.

Miss Lloyd backed away. “Heavens, no!” Her tone was so emphatic that both gentleman stared at her incredulously.

“I am
not
looking for a husband,” she insisted, with a defiant look at Lady Pendleton. “There are other options for women besides becoming some man’s property.”

Were there? James could only think of one other option, and he couldn’t believe she really meant
that.

Lady Pendleton looked pained. “My dear…” she began, and was interrupted by the arrival of the housekeeper with the tea trolley.

“Do let us sit down and have some tea. Helena, will you offer the gentlemen some of Mrs. Hunt’s fine strawberry tarts? She’s quite famous for them, you know. Sally Jersey has been after me forever to get the receipt for her, and Mrs. Hunt simply won’t hear of it. I daresay she’d have to if the Prince Regent were to entreat her for it, but for anyone else, I fear they are doomed to disappointment.”

H
elena sipped
her tea and took a back seat as Lady Pendleton dominated the conversation. No doubt she was afraid to give Helena the opportunity to make another inappropriate comment.

But Helena could hardly keep from staring at James Walker. Because when he'd first stepped through the doorway, she'd taken him for the man in the portrait. The one with the compelling brown eyes. But once she'd gained her composure, she realized it was unlikely to be true. The man in the portrait could have been any dark man. Quite good-looking too. A hunk, really. Average height for a man, he was a few inches taller than she. Perfect.

And his coffee-colored eyes had heat in them when they’d landed on her. He'd examined her from head to toe and liked what he was looking at. Hadn’t even flinched at the ill-fitting pink dress borrowed from Lady Pendleton.

At first. Before she'd made her little blunder, that is.

It was all Helena could do to keep herself from drooling. His slightly tousled dark brown hair—cut to mid-ear and longer in the back—made her itch to run her hands through it. She liked the way his beige nankeen trousers clung to his thighs, and his broad chest filled out the bottle green waistcoat. His neckcloth was neat, but not ostentatious, and he bore the look of a man worked for a living, not like a useless dandy. Perhaps working for a living was not the most appropriate way to describe it, since Lady Pendleton had explained to her that gentlemen did not
work
for a living. What they did with their time was a mystery to Helena, but she had a feeling that James Walker was not an idle man.