Page 78 of The Duke's Promise to Her Child
It was anything but. She had not wanted company. She had wanted to be left to her own devices. But she was a guest in thishouse, and if her friend wished to do her a kindness by inviting these women, who was she to decline.
Tea was poured. Conversation resumed, most of it revolving around the four ladies and their children, interrupted regularly by Lavinia, who squeaked and attempted to join in with the limited vocabulary available to her.
Helena smiled and spoke when spoken to. But she felt entirely out of place. Did these women know what had passed between herself and Gideon? Were they aware that she might very shortly not be a Duchess at all? Surely they would not be as kind to her if they knew she was not going to be one of them anymore.
She did not have to wonder long.
About an hour into the visit, a knock sounded at the front door. Clara went to answer it and returned a moment later with a peculiar smile on her face.
“There is a gentleman here to see you,” she said to Helena. “Or rather — to see your maid.”
“What?” Helena rose and made her way into the foyer.
Her eyebrows went up. Sir Franklin was standing in the entrance hall holding a bouquet of daisies that looked entirely self-picked.
“Sir Franklin.”
He bowed immediately. “Your Grace. It is wonderful to see you again. I wanted to call because I had hoped to visit with your maid. I was not entirely certain which entrance would be proper for such a venture, but I thought it right to speak with you first.”
“I will fetch her,” Clara announced, and disappeared.
Helena gestured toward the music room and Sir Franklin followed.
“I have been writing to her on a couple of occasions while you were out of town,” he said. “I hope you do not mind.”
“Not at all. She mentioned it.”
Sir Franklin went slightly pink. “She did? I was not aware she had thought enough of our correspondence to mention it. Though I suppose it is only proper that she should.”
“Indeed it is. I hope you do not have intentions of whisking her away.”
His cheeks grew redder. “Well. I had hoped to court her, but perhaps not in the way that you might imagine.”
Helena smiled, remembering the conversation she had already had with Mary on this subject.
“I found her quite charming when we first met,” he continued, “and I would very much enjoy her company, if she will have it. I was unsure whether she would or would not, but His Grace encouraged me, and?—”
She looked up. “He encouraged you?”
“Yes.” He smiled. “I spoke with him just before the two of you departed — I saw him at Parliament. I am in the House of Commons, if you were not aware. In any case, we conversed, and I mentioned my fondness for Mary, and he told me I ought not to let the difference in our stations prevent me from following the call of my heart.” He paused. “I thought it quite generous of him. And then of course I heard about your background, and it made his words seem even more?—”
She looked at her shoes.
“Oh, do not let that affect you,” he said quickly. “It does not bother me, and I do not believe anybody is truly still talking about it. Not since Lord Walthamstow was found to be carrying on behind closed doors with his brother’s wife.” He waved a hand. “I should not gossip. Nobody cares anymore. The truth of your heritage is yesterday’s news. Regardless — I took His Grace’s words to heart and decided to write to Mary. That is why I began the correspondence in the first place, under the guise of enquiring about a housekeeper. But now that you are here in town, I thought a proper call was more fitting.” He stopped himself. “I do talk rather a great deal. I am a terrible gabster.”
She sat watching him and found him entirely charming. Not in the way that would have made her regret not having pursued things further herself, of course. But charming for Mary, certainly.
What had unsettled her more than anything else was Gideon’s involvement. He had spoken to Sir Franklin on Mary’s behalf and said nothing to her about it. He had known about Mary’s late husband, known that she might be reluctant, known enough to speak to Sir Franklin with care and consideration — and had kept the whole of it to himself.
“You understand that Mary was married once before,” she said.
“I do. His Grace mentioned it. He also warned me that on account of this, she may not be amenable to my efforts. But I am willing to try.”
Before she could say anything else, Clara appeared with Mary behind her.
Sir Franklin rose at once and crossed the room. He extended the flowers, and Helena noticed that his hand was shaking.
“I did not know if you would mind daisies. They grow near my house. I think they are very beautiful.”
