Julia Justiss (11 page)

H
ELENA FELT HER SMILE
falter as Lord Darnell stared at her, his expression growing ever grimmer. And yet, though his countenance remained forbidding, the flash of intensity she saw in his face before his eyes became hooded reminded her of his appearance last night in the library.

She’d been startled when the door opened, but relaxed immediately once she recognized the intruder. After living in Lord Darnell’s house for nearly a month, hearing naught but tributes to the excellence of his character from his stepmother down to the kitchen maid, she’d not been alarmed at encountering him alone, even in his inebriated condition. Indeed, she found the obvious signs of his impairment diverting, an amusement that deepened as it became apparent he had no idea who she was.

She’d even felt a sweet, novel sense of feminine satisfaction that her appearance was so changed he’d not recognized her. Until something about the intentness of his scrutiny had brought her up short, made her breath catch. His gaze resting on her bosom had driven color into her cheeks and made her nipples tingle.
Though she’d already been warmed by the fire, a wave of heat that seemed to emanate from deep within had washed through her.

She’d found him unexpectedly appealing when they first met at the lawyer’s office, but the odd sense of connection she’d felt then was a mere nothing compared to the cataclysmic reaction he’d evoked last night. His gaze this morning had roused those sensations once again.

Though unprecedented, the feelings seemed to produce more a sense of…excitement than alarm. She must ask Lady Darnell later what they signified, Helena decided as she gathered up her plate.

At the scrape of the china against the marble-topped sideboard, Lord Darnell winced. Remembering the vivid description Dickon had given her of the condition suffered the next morning by gentlemen who celebrated too freely, she suppressed a smile and proceeded to the table.

“Good morning, my lord,” she said, keeping her voice low. He gave her a short bow, wincing again as he straightened, and she was hard put not to giggle.

“Miss Lambarth, let me apologize for my…intrusion last night. I hope you will forgive my…forwardness.”

“Since ’twas I who trespassed in your library, there’s nothing to forgive. And I take it as a testimony to Lady Darnell’s efforts to improve my appearance that you did not immediately recognize me.”

Her amusement deepened when he colored, obviously still embarrassed by his mistake. “’Tis true that
you look nothing like the woebegone orphan I escorted here a month ago. A most…charming transformation! Still, I should—”

Before he could continue—or she could question him about the strange energy that had connected them last night and again just now—the door opened to admit Lady Darnell, who stopped short as she saw them together.

“Adam, what are you doing here so early? You’ve spoiled my surprise, you wretch! I had planned to present the ‘new’ Helena to you today before Miss Standish and her family arrived for dinner. She is transformed, is she not?” Lady Darnell demanded, coming over to give Helena a hug.

“She is indeed,” Lord Darnell said, his voice tight.

Lady Darnell’s cat-in-the-cream-pot smugness dissipated a bit at the coolness of his tone. “But utterly charming, do you not think?” she pressed.

“’Tis a triumph, Bellemere. She is exquisite.”

With a trill of satisfied laughter, Lady Darnell went over to embrace her stepson. Though she seemed pleased by his response, Helena noted again how grudging was the tone in which the compliment had been delivered.

As she stared at him over the head of Lady Darnell, whom he held still encircled in his arms, his eyes darkened and some wordless current passed between them.

She felt it vibrate into the core of her being and was nearly certain he felt it, too. She knew just as instinctively as he stood watching her, the smile he’d put on
for his stepmother vanished from his lips, that he was not happy about it.

Which meant he probably wouldn’t be willing to discuss whatever it was, certainly not in front of Lady Darnell. Putting away that interesting observation to reflect upon later, Helena said, “You are both too kind! I shall always be a tall Meg with too long a face, but Aunt Lillian and the dressmaker have managed so cleverly, I am at least presentable. But now, Aunt Lillian, you must tell us about dinner tonight and what we can do to help.”

Something like relief flashed through Lord Darnell’s eyes and the taut set of his shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Yes, Bellemere, please do! Although I expect the most helpful thing I can do is stay out of the way. The groom is always
de trop
when ladies plan such things, is he not?”

Lady Darnell laughed. “He need only remember the hour at which his fiancée wishes him to present himself.”

While Lady Darnell bantered with her stepson, Helena watched Adam Darnell with a curious eye. Had he feared she would reveal last night’s intoxicated behavior to his aunt? Had that behavior—and the looks that passed between them—been somehow inappropriate?

More questions to ponder, Helena concluded. But though Lord Darnell had become marginally more at ease as the conversation moved past their meeting, confirming her impression that he did not want Lady Darnell to know of the incident in the library, he still
appeared anxious to quit her presence. He was now explaining to her aunt how various commitments required him to leave immediately after breakfast and would keep him away until practically the time his fiancée and her family were to arrive.

“Of course you are busy,” Helena intervened. “Charis and I can help Aunt Lillian with whatever must be done.”

“Thank you, child, but you have lessons this morning and afternoon, do you not? I don’t wish you to miss them.”

“Greek and dancing, which I can postpone until later. Lord Darnell’s engagement dinner is more important.”

“‘Lord Darnell’ sounds so formal!” Lady Darnell interjected, turning to her stepson. “Do you not think that, within the confines of the house, it would be more comfortable for Helena to call you Adam?”

The glance he sent Helena told her he wouldn’t find such intimacy comfortable at all. Wishing to save him having to invent some excuse, Helena said, “We know each other so little, Aunt Lillian. Can I not call him Darnell? If I’m accustomed to addressing him so, I would not risk slipping into unseemly familiarity when we are in company. If that is agreeable to you, my lord?”

“Whatever makes you feel most at ease, Miss Lambarth.”

Helena suppressed a chuckle, since it was
his
comfort rather than
hers
in question. It appeared he recognized that fact, was even grateful for her assistance, for he gave her a tiny nod and smiled.

Unlike his previous polite expressions, the genuine warmth of it lit up his face and magnified several-fold the enticement of his already handsome countenance. As she had last night, Helena caught her breath as his potent appeal settled over her, evoking once again those odd feelings in her body—and a potentially more dangerous desire to move nearer to him.

So this is what attraction feels like, she thought. But though all she’d seen and heard in the last month told her Lord Darnell was every bit as kind, generous and caring as he appeared, her innate protective instincts warned that it wouldn’t do to let down her guard.

After all, her mama, a very intelligent lady, had failed to realize the menace posed by Vincent Lambarth until it was too late for them both. Or perhaps, having lost the man she’d truly loved, her mama’s instincts had been dulled by grief?

But she needn’t make too much of her reaction to Darnell, Helena reminded herself. With him engaged, ’twas unlikely she would see him often and even more unlikely that they would be alone when they did meet. Dismissing a pang of regret over losing before it began the chance to build any closer relationship between them, Helena turned her attention back to her aunt.

Clearly disappointed at not having coaxed them to greater intimacy, Lady Darnell continued, “It shall be as you prefer, of course. But this dinner is also your first appearance in Society and I wish you to have time to prepare. Indeed, I believe Adam has invited someone special to meet you. Bennett will attend, won’t he, Adam?”

Lord Darnell looked startled, as if he’d forgotten that fact. “Yes, Dix will be present.”

“Bennett Dixon,” Aunt Lillian explained, “Adam’s best friend since childhood. They were at Eton and Oxford together, then joined the same Hussar unit. We credit dear Bennett with helping Adam come through that dreadful war unscathed. He’s almost as much a son to me as Adam.”

“Dix and I have always looked out for one another,” Lord Darnell affirmed with a smile.

“With Adam’s future settled, we must turn our attention to Charis’s presentation—and yours, dear Helena. Adam, you must prevail upon Bennett to dance with the girls when they are presented at Almack’s—and you must, too, if Miss Standish permits. We can make Helena’s formal introduction at the ball we’ve been planning for Charis. Oh, we shall all be so merry!”

Helena regarded her aunt fondly. Charis had confided to her how much Lady Darnell had enjoyed being one of Society’s foremost hostesses before her husband’s long illness forced them to withdraw to the country. Helena was as glad as Charis that the rounds of shopping and social calls, which Helena privately thought must be rather boring, had pulled her aunt from her grief.

“Of course, I shall be happy to participate in any way you wish, dear aunt. But please, let the presentation ball be for Charis alone. ’Tis an event she has surely been anticipating for years. I don’t wish to reduce by even a fraction the attention that should be hers alone.”

“Kind sentiments!” Charis said, entering the breakfast room at that moment. “But quite impossible, my dear! Once society has glimpsed what a lovely, unusual lady you are, we should be trampled by gentlemen demanding your presence should we be foolish enough to try to keep you hidden. More important,” she added, giving Helena a hug, “I shall enjoy the ball much more with you there to share in it.”

Touched, Helena hugged Charis back. “As you wish.”

“You girls will be a sensation!” Lady Darnell predicted, beaming. “The gentlemen of the ton will stumble over each other to come courting. Perhaps we shall have
three
weddings to celebrate this year!”

That comment abruptly cut short Helena’s enjoyment of her aunt’s enthusiasm. If Aunt Lillian were planning her presentation as a prelude to a bridal, Helena had better put a period to that notion immediately.

“I shall delight in wishing both Darnell and Charis happy. But, Aunt Lillian, I have no intention of marrying. Not this Season. Not ever.”

In the silence after her pronouncement, all three Darnells turned to stare at her.

“Did Darnell not tell you?” Helena demanded. “I informed him at our very first meeting that I intended eventually to set up my own household. Dear as you all have become to me, that intention is unchanged.”

Recovering from her chagrin, Lady Darnell said, “I—I suppose I can understand that your…unfortunate upbringing may have given you a wariness about
gentlemen, but when the right one appears, you will change—”

“It did and I won’t,” Helena interrupted, determined to exterminate any hope her aunt might try to salvage on the matter of matrimony. “I’m sorry, Aunt Lillian, but I am absolutely adamant.”

Suddenly realizing that her implacable opposition to wedlock might make her appear even odder than her not-of-the-prevailing-fashion gowns, she reluctantly added, “If my desire to remain unmarried will embarrass you or the family, perhaps I should begin looking for another residence at once.”

To her relief, both Lady Darnell and Charis immediately protested. After promising they would respect her wishes but still earnestly desired her to remain with them and participate in Charis’s Season, she acquiesced and the discussion turned back to the dinner this evening.

Lord Darnell, however, Helena noted, said nothing.

After avoiding looking again in her direction, he finished his coffee, bowed to the ladies and quit the room.

Something of the morning’s brightness left with him.

Still, with him gone, before the ladies parted for their morning activities she could question them about those odd feelings Lord Darnell generated in her.

“Aunt Lillian, what does it signify when a man gazes at a lady intently?”

Lady Darnell set down her teacup and chuckled. “You must have been reading Charis’s novels! In your
case, I expect it would mean the gentleman was admiring your fine eyes—and lovely they are!”

“What if he were staring at my…person,” she elaborated, substituting at the last moment that more innocuous term for breasts.

Lady Darnell’s pleased look faded. Her brow furrowed, she exchanged a glance with Charis and then replied, “Your…person? Do you mean some man has been…ogling you?”

Before Helena could answer, her aunt’s eyes widened and she wailed, “That trip from Cornwall all alone! Oh, I feared you might have suffered indignities, traveling so far without even a maid to lend you consequence! Did some man make offensive overtures? And that short gown! The sight of your bare ankles must have inflamed him!”

“My bare ankles might…inflame someone?” Indeed, her own odd feelings in Darnell’s presence had been accompanied by a profound sense of warmth. “With what kind of heat?”