Page 45 of The Duke's Promise to Her Child
“So she is the tallest one of the lot,” said the brightest-looking of the group, a young woman with a wide smile and a heart-shaped face. “The blushing bride. I do not think we have officially met. I am Evelyn — Duchess of Sinclair.” She gestured along the line. “These are my sisters — Charlotte, Marchioness of Ravenscar, and Marianne, Countess of Wexford. And our cousin Frances, Duchess of Devonshire.”
“I have heard so much about all of you,” Helena said, and found that she meant it. “But most particularly about Frances — Gideon speaks so warmly of your husband.”
“Indeed,” Frances said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I must say I am very glad somebody has finally taken Gideon in hand. I always felt as though he were an extra child I had not asked for.”
The group, including Clara, laughed. Helena found herself laughing too, which surprised her.
“I am genuinely glad,” Frances added, more quietly. “I wish you all the happiness in the world.”
A look passed between the women — the kind of look shared among people who have decided, collectively and without discussion, to admit someone new into their confidence.
“We are aware,” Charlotte said, “that this is an arrangement more than anything else. But do not fret on that account. Such things have a habit of becoming something rather more real, and rather more quickly than one expects. Not one of us wasplanning to marry her husband when she did, and we are all of us very happy now.”
“They all required a certain amount of managing, of course,” Evelyn said, which produced a laugh from everybody.
“I think of all of us,” Charlotte continued, “only Clara is marrying a man she chose for herself from the very beginning.”
Clara blushed. “Benjamin and I never had need of any matchmaking or schemes, that is true. But love can develop in all manner of ways.” She glanced at Helena with a meaningful smile that Helena chose firmly to ignore.
“You will come to appreciate Gideon’s finer qualities,” Frances said. “If you have not already.”
The truth was that Helena had already seen his qualities — had seen them from the very first week, if she was honest with herself. She simply had no intention of saying so.
“The most important thing just now,” Charlotte said, dropping her voice slightly, “is to silence the whispers. I know something about that. And the first thing you need to know is where your friends are. That, at least, is already settled.”
“When you are in town, stay close to us,” Marianne confirmed. “We know what you have been through. You can trust us.”
“We have also heard the stories about your father,” Evelyn added, more carefully.
“They are true,” Helena said. If she was going to be friends with these women, she had decided she would be honest with them from the outset. She watched their faces. None of them flinched.
“Well,” Evelyn said, with a small shrug. “So what of it? Our father attempted to sell the three of us off to the most dreadful men imaginable. In my case he very nearly succeeded.” She paused. “And Charlotte here was born with as fine a set of connections as anyone in the ton — much good it did her.”
“And I,” Marianne added, “was practically a nobody before I married Lucien. My connection to the Langley family was several times removed. I might almost as well have had none at all.” She smiled. “In any case, none of us care. None of our husbands care. And these people—” she glanced briefly at the room beyond “—will not care either, once they have something new to occupy them. Which brings us to the more pressing matter.”
“You must leave them with something to talk about,” Charlotte said. “Not rumours about your heritage — something better. You must leave them with the impression that you and Gideon are genuinely, thoroughly in love. I know exactly how to arrange that.” She set down her plate, pushed through the guests, and disappeared.
Helena looked at the others. “Should I be concerned?”
“Almost certainly,” Evelyn said pleasantly.
A moment later Charlotte returned with Gideon in tow, looking mildly perplexed. She picked up a glass, and, finding no cutlery to hand, reached for the fireplace poker and knocked it sharply against a table. The room quieted.
“I think what this wedding needs,” Charlotte announced, “is a dance. My sister-in-law Frances will play the pianoforte, and our bride and groom will show us what they are made of.”
Gideon looked at Helena. He shrugged. “I suppose we are dancing.”
“What shall I play?” Frances asked, already moving toward the pianoforte.
Helena opened her mouth to suggest the Cotillion, but Gideon was faster. “The waltz, of course,” he said. “The most romantic of dances.” Frances smiled and settled herself at the keys.
“Do you not think that is a little too intimate?” Helena murmured as he led her toward the center of the drawing room, where the furniture had been cleared back to make space.
“I think it is just intimate enough,” he said. “Evelyn tells me we need to convince everybody that we are thoroughly in love. I think we can manage a convincing performance between us. Can we not?”
She nodded, and he placed his hands on her. The room fell into a loose circle around them, every face turned their way. Her skin tingled the way it did whenever she was excited, though she should not be excited in this moment. She should be terrified.
Oddly enough, she was both.
