Her pulse leapt.
Another?
Yes.
His eyes held hers, the lamplight catching like a secret between them.
If I should, over the coming weeks, be seen to seek your company at gatherings, in drawing rooms, perhaps even in quieter corners like this, will you think it only convenience, or might you permit the possibility that I do so because I choose it?
The world seemed to tilt.
Helena forced herself to inhale.
I do not know what others would think, she said honestly. But if you say you choose it, Your Grace, I will try to believe you.
His answering smile was small but luminous, as if something inside him had eased into its proper place.
That, he said, is all I ask. For now.
For now, she repeated, the words lodging in her chest like both a promise and a warning.
Beyond the glass, unseen rain had begun to fall. Soft, steady, the kind that changes a garden overnight.
They did not stay long in the conservatory. A few minutes only. Really, time enough for words that unsettled whole years of habit.
When Adrien opened the door again, letting the gentler murmur of the drawing room spill in, Helena felt as though she had stepped from one world into another, though not a hair on her head had changed.
If anyone noticed that they had been away together, no one remarked upon it.
Marianne only met Helena's eyes across the room and gave a small, satisfied nod, as if a tiny piece of a plan had fallen neatly into place.
On the journey home, the carriage wheels whispered over the cobbles.
Lady Ashford and Alicia spoke in bright, overlapping threads, winding the evening into something that suited their expectations.
It was the most charming party, Alicia declared. So tasteful, so refined. I could hardly believe such a quiet gathering could feel so important, could you, Mama?
Indeed, Lady Ashford agreed, pleased, and we were very well placed. Marianne is a woman of discernment to be so specifically invited. It is not every family that receives such consideration from a duke's sister.
Alicia's smile turned dreamy.
Do you know there was a moment when Sir Thomas Hargate was quite attentive, but then His Grace came into the room and everything shifted. One could feel it. It is rather like the air rearranging itself.
Helena sat opposite them, hands folded in her lap, watching the dark shapes of houses pass by the carriage window.
He seemed particularly anxious to ensure you enjoyed the music, Helena, Lady Ashford said almost as an afterthought. Very proper of him, given his note. We must be grateful for his courtesy.
Courtesy.
Helena's fingers tightened slightly on her reticule.
Yes, she said quietly. He is very courteous.
She did not mention the conservatory or the questions he had asked.
Those felt too fragile to expose yet, even to the people who shared her roof, her meals, her days. Especially to them.
In the days that followed, the pattern of her life altered by such small degrees that it might almost have been imagined.
A note arrived from Marianne. Really from Marianne this time, written in a hand brisker than her brother's.
My dear Miss Helena,
I find myself in need of an honest ear as I quarrel with a new batch of music. Might you and your cousins be prevailed upon to call tomorrow afternoon? I promise no lilies, only tea, and the dreadful sound of my own playing until you rescue me.
Yours very sincerely,
Marianne Weatherbe.
Lady Ashford read it with raised brows.
She writes to you directly, she said, though the invitation clearly included them all. How interesting.
It is meant for all of us, surely, Helena said quickly. She only names me because of her kind remark about my listening.
Yes, yes, her aunt waved off. Still, it is an intimacy of address. We must not appear ungrateful.
She turned to Alicia.
You must wear the cream muslin, dear. Music afternoons call for softness. Helena the blue again. I think you look almost distinguished in it. Almost.
Helena smiled to herself as she went to lay out her gown.
She could not remember the last time she had been named first in an invitation.
It felt oddly like being asked to sit, not merely told where.
Marianne's drawing room by daylight was even kinder than it had been by lamplight.
Sun filtered through pale curtains, turning dust motes to drifting gold.
A stack of sheet music lay scattered on the pianoforte as if someone had been arguing with it and left in mock despair.
Miss Helena, you have come, Marianne said, genuinely pleased. And you, Miss Alicia, Lady Ashford. You are very good to humor my struggles.
We are honored, Lady Ashford replied with her best society manner. Though I cannot believe you struggle with anything musical, Lady Marianne.
Oh, you must believe it, Marianne laughed, taking Helena's hand and drawing her nearer the pianoforte. Else I shall be in danger of pride.
His Grace is not at home this afternoon, she added almost casually. He is about some business in Grosvenor Square. We are safe to be quite ourselves.
Helena's shoulders eased.
She had not realized how much she had been bracing to navigate his presence again.
They talked of small things at first, music, the mildness of the weather, books recently published.
Marianne had a talent for drawing opinions from Helena without making her feel as though she were performing.
You read far more than you admit, Marianne said at one point, amused. You speak as someone who has walked through many pages.
Books are very patient company, Helena answered. They do not mind if one is quiet.
Some people do not mind it either, came a familiar voice from the doorway.
Helena turned, startled.
Adrien stood there, hat in hand, as though he had merely wandered in on an afternoon like any other.
There was something softer about him without the full armor of evening dress, his cravat slightly loosened, the dark of his coat less severe in the daylight.
I thought you were in Grosvenor Square, Marianne said, though she did not appear surprised.
I was, he replied easily. I accomplished my business more quickly than anticipated.