Yes, miss.
Would you be so good as to see this sent round to Lady Marianne Weatherbe's at once? It need not go by the general post. A footman may carry it, but I should like it to reach her this morning.
Yes, Miss.
Molly took the letter carefully. Her eyes flicked to the seal, then to Helena's face with unspoken curiosity.
Right away, miss.
Thank you.
Helena managed a small smile.
And say nothing of it to my aunt if you please. It is only a little note between friends.
Molly nodded, loyal and eager.
Of course, Miss.
Helena watched the girl hurry away with the letter, feeling an odd lightness, as though she had just stepped out of a moving carriage.
There. The choice was made.
She would withdraw quietly before anyone needed to rearrange themselves on her account.
At breakfast, Alicia chatted of a rumored ball, of new gowns in a Bond Street window, of Mrs. Pharaoh's words the day before.
Everyone assumes something, Mama, she said, playing with the rim of her teacup. But I do not. Not yet. It is foolish to dream of coronets.
It is not foolish to recognize opportunity, Lady Ashford replied, though she attempted a modest air. Still, we must be sensible. His Grace is courteous to us all. We shall see in which direction his attentions truly settle.
Helena kept her gaze on her plate.
The toast might have been sawdust for all she tasted it.
The bell rang.
They all glanced up.
Lady Ashford frowned.
At this hour? Who can that be?
The butler entered a moment later, his expression carrying that peculiar blend of gravity and subdued excitement that meant news of significance.
Your ladyship, His Grace, the Duke of Everre.
Helena's knife slipped against her plate with a small betraying scrape.
Alicia's hand flew to her hair.
Lady Ashford half rose from her chair, then sat again, composing herself with visible effort.
Show His Grace into the front parlor, she said, her voice unusually high. We shall attend him directly.
The butler bowed and withdrew.
Lady Ashford turned on her nieces like a general before an inspection.
Alicia, your ribbon is crooked. Helena, do not look so startled, child. You are as pale as milk. A little color in the cheeks, for heaven's sake.
I— Helena began, then stopped.
Her heart was beating so fast she felt lightheaded.
Of course, Lady Ashford continued, her thoughts already racing ahead. He comes at breakfast. It is the most proper time for such calls. We must not linger. Alicia, come. Helena. Yes, you must come too, for form's sake.
For form's sake, Helena repeated silently, rising. Always for form's sake.
In the front parlor, Adrien stood near the window, his hands clasped behind his back.
Morning light picked out the strong line of his profile, the faint shadow on his jaw that said he had not wasted time with idle preparation.
He turned as they entered, bowing.
Lady Ashford. Miss Alicia. Miss Helena.
Helena curtsied, her knees feeling oddly unsteady.
You do us great honor, Your Grace, Lady Ashford said, fluttering just enough to be flattering. We were not expecting you.
I must beg your pardon for the early hour, Adrien said.
His gaze flicked to Helena and stayed there.
I hope I have not disarranged your morning.
Not at all, Lady Ashford assured him. Pray be seated. Alicia, take the settee. Helena, the chair by the window.
He waited until they had settled, then remained standing as if he could not quite trust himself to sit.
I will be frank, Lady Ashford, he said. I came upon an errand that will not brook delay.
My sister received a letter this morning from Miss Helena.
His eyes moved to her again.
A letter in which she begs to excuse herself from further gatherings at my sister's house and speaks of retiring to the country.
Lady Ashford's head snapped toward Helena.
Helena, you have written—
Helena's throat closed.
It is nothing, aunt. I merely—
If there is to be any explanation, Adrien said quietly, I must ask that Miss Helena allow me to hear it as well, for it seems I am the party most affected.
His words hung in the air.
Alicia looked between them, bewildered.
Lady Ashford's fan stilled completely.
Your Grace, Lady Ashford began, recovering, I am sure Helena meant no slight. She is prone to too overscrupulous consideration.
If her presence is an inconvenience, you may be certain she will spare you any inconvenience.
The single word came out more sharply than he intended.
He drew a breath, mastered his tone.
Lady Ashford, with your permission, I should like to speak to your niece frankly, and as one whose choices have been questioned without his consent.