by Jade Lee
“Welcome home, my lord,” Edward stated calmly. There wasn’t even a trace of anxiety in his tone, damn his eyes.
Robert glared at him. “This is not a welcome home, Edward. This is a crime.”
“Oh, good God!” exclaimed Gwen as she straightened to stand beside her fiancé. “We’re engaged! And you cannot be home!”
“Go to your room, Gwen. I shall see to it that Edward remembers that until the ‘I dos’ are spoken, he shall remain at a proper distance from your person at all times.”
Gwen gasped in outrage and folded her arms across her chest. Sadly, it only served to emphasize to his mind that her nipples were tight and, again, he did not want to know that! “I am not a child to be sent to my room, Robert. And you must leave immediately!”
He gaped at her. Did she really think he was going to just go upstairs and ignore what they’d been doing down here? “Have you taken leave of your senses?”
It appeared that she had, because she waved at him with both hands, shooing him out the door. “Go to your club. You cannot be here. I have promised.”
“I don’t have a club.”
“Then go to Father’s club. I don’t care. But you can’t be here!”
It took him a moment to understand that she didn’t mean he couldn’t be in the back parlor where Edward was debauching her, but in the house at all. “This is my home! And you!” He rounded on the debaucher in question. “You can take yourself—”
“I cannot abandon the love of my life, my lord. Not when you are in such a state.”
“What!”
“Shhh!” That was Gwen. “You’ll wake the house!”
“They should be awake!” he roared back. “They should be chaperoning you. Does no one think in this house? Dribbs!”
“My lord,” Edward began, “I take full responsibility for this terrible lapse in judgment. I—”
“You will not!” snapped Gwen. “If you recall, I was the one who climbed atop you, who kissed you first, who—”
“Stop!” bellowed Robert as he jerked open the door. “Dribbs!”
“Here, my lord,” said the butler, who appeared to be cowering—yes, cowering—in the hallway. “I was just going to find your brandy.”
“I don’t want brandy, I want a chaperone right here, right now! Better yet, two footmen to stand guard—”
“Fine, then!” huffed Gwen as she grabbed hold of the boy’s arm. “We shall simply go to his house. In fact, forget the downstairs parlor. Edward, take me to your bedroom. Lay me down on your bed. We shall have our wedding night now!”
“The devil you will! Dribbs! My sister is under guard. Three footmen at all times! Until the moment she walks down that aisle, she is never to be left alone, not even in her bedroom. They will stand there and stare at her and make sure she doesn’t climb out of the window!”
He wasn’t nearly done with his tirade. He had merely stopped to draw breath, but in that moment of silence, a quiet voice cut through the room. It was stern and calm, and very, very female. It was, in fact, the one voice he had never expected to hear again: Helaine’s. And that was why his tirade stopped in midbreath. Because he couldn’t credit that he had heard her at all.
“Goodness, you do have a way of making sure everyone knows you are about, don’t you?”
Robert stood still, his mouth hanging open as he spun around to stare at Helaine. She was dressed in a simple gown that was obviously hastily pulled on. He knew that because the buttons in the front were mismatched around the belly and because her hair was tumbling loose about her shoulders. Honey brown hair flowed freely down her back.
He didn’t know what to say. Indeed, he didn’t know anything at all. What was she doing here? Meanwhile, Gwen rushed forward, all heartfelt embarrassment as she apologized, not to Robert for creating such a scene in the first place, but to Helaine.
“I am so, so sorry, Mrs. Mortimer. He came home unexpectedly. He said he would be away two weeks at the least. That’s what he told Dribbs. Two weeks! But as you can see, he came back unexpectedly. But he’s leaving straightaway. Just getting some clothes and repairing to an inn or some such thing.” Gwen twisted slightly to pin him with an evil glare. “Tell her, Robert. Tell her that you’re leaving straightaway.”
“I finished early,” he said, knowing that he wasn’t speaking to anything at all. “I came home. I thought you would squeal and hug me.”
Gwen scoffed as only a younger sibling can do. “I haven’t done that in ages. Really, Robert, can you not open your eyes and see that I am a woman?”
That was exactly what he didn’t want to see! Swollen lips? Pert breasts? Good God, he was her brother! “Please just go to your room, Gwen.”
“No, I won’t! You must—”
“Actually, my dear,” interrupted Edward in low, rational tones, “I believe it has been a long day.” He grabbed her hands and lifted them together to his mouth. Gwen huffed, her anger fading as a softness entered her body.
“You don’t have to go,” she said, her tone a great deal more moderate.
Robert opened his mouth to say he bloody well did, but Helaine’s hand jerked upright, distracting him enough that the moment—and his words—were lost. Edward finished pressing a kiss to Gwen’s knuckles, then executed a respectful bow to all before he nimbly dashed around Robert for the door.
“I’ll see you to the door,” Gwen said as she scampered with him.
Dribbs, of course, stayed well out of their way. The only reason he wasn’t sacked at that very moment was because he did indeed have a bottle of brandy in his hand. But it didn’t stop Robert from snapping one last insult.
“Three footmen,” he called. “And bars on your window.”
“That’s fine, brother dear,” Gwen called back. “I’ll just sleep at his house tonight.”
“Gwen!”
“Oh stop it,” Helaine said as she neatly cut off his pathway to the front door. “She’s just poking for the fun of it. And you respond like a bear with a sore paw every time.”
“You don’t know what they were doing when I walked in.”
“And what were you doing bursting in on an engaged couple? I would say you got exactly what you deserved.”
He threw out a hand to point in fury down the hall. “They are not married yet!”
“And you are tilting at windmills, my lord. Young, happy, lustful windmills.”
He stared at her, his mind grappling with what she had just said. “That makes no sense!”
“Then it is a perfect match for you because you don’t, either. Goodness, Robert, sit down, drink your brandy, and leave the lovers to their—”
“Don’t say it!”
“To their good-byes,” she finished. Then she crossed her arms and shook her head. “I cannot fathom how you have managed to raise such a delightful sister acting this way. How is it that she hasn’t murdered you in your sleep?”
“She’s tried. Believe me.”
“I do believe you. And I also believe that she is an intelligent woman about to marry an extraordinarily levelheaded young man. You should be happy for their passion, my lord. So few have it in their marriage beds.”
“Only if they wait for their marriage bed,” he grumbled. But his rancor was fading, his ill temper slowly replaced by the joy of talking to her again.
“Never fear, my lord. Gwen told me that he has French letters. You know. To prevent pregnancy.”
“Oh, my God—” The boy had purchased condoms. And told his sister about them? Meanwhile, Helaine kept talking, keeping him from saying any of the furious words that were leaping through his mind.
“Gwen said it was because they do not wish for children right away. He has the letters so that they can enjoy being just the two of them for a while before adding children. I can tell you that she was much relieved and thought it especially touching of him. So never fear. If they have been enjoying themselves before their vows, no one will be the wiser.”
But he knew. He knew bloody w
ell too much now. “Bars,” he murmured. “Bars on the windows and guards outside her door. Maybe I’ll even chain her to the bedpost.”
Helaine laughed, the sweet sound cutting through his ill humor like a light through the fog. “And then unchain her the moment her eyes tear up. She has told me, you know, that all she has to do to bend you to her will is to cry. Just one tear, and you melt like butter.”
“The devil she did.”
“She did. And I believe her. Now sit down, drink your brandy, and stop yelling. It will wake your mother and she has had a full day.”
His mind was immediately distracted from how his sister bragged about manipulating him. “My mother? Is she ill?”
“No, no. But she has been up all day without her nap, helping with the dress designs and the like. Edward’s relations are certainly overpowering, but they seem to be exactly what she needs right now.”
“Truly?” he mused. “Perhaps I should have been more forceful with her over the years.”
Helaine snorted. “No, Robert. Your type of forcefulness and a woman’s type are two different things. I believe she just needed a woman’s hand.”
He frowned. “But what is the difference between the two?”
Her head tilted as she looked at him. “Can you not see it? Truly?”
He shook his head, finding his ill humor returning. “I would not have asked if I already knew.”
She dipped her head. “Of course, my lord. My apology—”
“Just say it, Helaine. Pray do not go stiff after all this time.”
She paused a moment to study his face. He kept his expression neutral, almost bland. But he was keenly interested in her thoughts and so he waited in stillness for her perspective. In time, she realized he was being honest and answered. “You wanted your mother to get out of bed because you and your siblings needed a mother, your father needed a wife, and the household needed a mistress. The more forceful you might be with your needs, the more she would withdraw into her bedroom.”
“But we did need her.”
She sighed. “Yes, I know.” She stepped forward and lightly placed her hand on his arm. “Robert, I am terribly sorry that she failed you. You deserved a mother who could help you against your father, against all the tasks that were thrust too young on your shoulders.”
“But these other women, Edward’s relations. What have they done to help her?”
“They want her to be happy, Robert. To play with the dresses if she likes, to go on a walk and breathe the fresh air if she desires. They look to what she wants and take all of the burden on themselves. Truly, your mother did nothing all day but sit and have people bustle about her showing her things. And we left her alone when she tired, though she never left the room.”
“I want her to be happy, too.” He hated that he sounded so ridiculous. That Helaine thought he had no care for his mother, that he did not wish her to be as joyful as she could possibly be. “I did everything I could for her.”
He saw understanding light in her eyes. “Of course you did, Robert. Of course you do. But you are her son. If you are forceful with her, then she feels burdened by your needs. If you ignore her, she feels guilty for her lacks. If you beg her to be happy, she tries to do it for you and fails, which makes her feel worse than before.”
“But she does not feel that way with Edward’s family?”
“Of course not. She does not love them like she loves you.”
Robert turned, his eyes widening at the impact of her words. She spoke so casually, as if all of this were obvious. Perhaps it was to her. But to him, the statement that his mother loved him reached deep inside. It touched a well of misery he hadn’t even realized was there. Not until her words healed them.
His mother loved him. Despite the way she shut herself away from him, despite the whimpers and misery whenever she stepped outside of her bedroom door. Despite it all, she loved him. He tugged the words close to his heart and held them there like a precious toy. And when he feared he would unman himself by crying in front of her, he reached for the bottle of brandy that Dribbs had so conveniently left on the sideboard. He crossed to it and poured a glass with a shaking hand. When the globe was filled, he lifted it up but didn’t drink.
His mother loved him. When Helaine said it, he believed it. And the knowledge was pure joy.
Eventually he found his voice, though he had to push the words through a thick throat. “If dresses and Edward’s women are what she needs, then they shall have the run of the house.”
“Well, I shouldn’t go overboard with that, if I were you. Perhaps every other day or every third.”
He turned back to her, finding he could smile now without losing his dignity. “Whatever you think best. I shall tell Dribbs to open and close the door solely upon your decision.”
Her brows shot up at that. “At the direction of a dressmaker? Surely you jest.”
“Surely I don’t.” He swirled the brandy about in his glass. He looked at the dark liquid, smelled the aroma of the rich brew, but his mind was on her. Helaine. Eventually he looked at her and asked the two questions that had been in his mind from the moment he’d seen her. “Why are you here, Helaine? And how can I make you stay?”
She smiled and stepped closer. He was within a breath of taking her into his arms when she lifted the glass out of his hands. Then she was walking away with it, sipping the brew as cheekily as if he had offered it to her. And he should have, he realized. He just hadn’t thought she would drink brandy.
Meanwhile she settled onto the settee, kicked off her slippers, and curled her feet up behind her. He had to blink at the sight. How many times had he seen Gwen do just the same thing? And yet, the idea of Gwen and Helaine in the same thought, the same breath, as the same two mature women made him distinctly uncomfortable.
He cleared his throat by way of ordering his thoughts. Then he gestured to the bar behind him. “Would you care for something else?”
She shook her head. “Brandy was my father’s love. I grew up stealing sips from his glass.”
“Ah. Then please enjoy as much as you like.”
“Just a sip,” she said, taking just one before setting the glass aside. “I do not care for how a whole glass makes me feel.”
“Out of control?” he guessed.
She nodded, watching him carefully as he crossed to sit beside her. They were not touching. Indeed, he sat as far away from her as he could possibly manage and still be on the settee. But he angled his face and his body to her. He did not want anything to interfere with his sight of her and these precious moments of accord.
“Helaine—”
“I am here because you asked Edward to ask Gwen to install me in the house so that I could design everyone’s gowns for the Season.”
Ah, yes. He had done that, hadn’t he? One of his best ideas ever.
“I only agreed to come because Gwen promised me that you were not at home.”
“I wasn’t then.”
“Yes, I’d noticed you’d returned.”
“I always knew you were a perceptive woman.”
She snorted, but her eyes crinkled at the corners when she did it. If he looked closely, he might say she was smiling. Then he said something that startled even himself.
“I will leave if you wish it. I do not want to make you uncomfortable.”
She sighed and looked at her hands. “I am a dressmaker, my lord. I would not dream of ousting a viscount from his home.”
He had the strongest urge to tap her chin, to stroke her cheek, to do anything to bring her gaze back to his. But he knew that doing such a thing would make her bolt. So he stayed exactly where he was and prayed his words would do what his body could not. “Even so, Helaine. I will leave if you wish it.”
She didn’t answer for a long moment, and he found himself holding his breath, waiting for her response. In the end, she shook her head. “I think in a house this size, we can manage to stay out of each other’s way.”
He didn’t
want to stay out of her way, but he didn’t argue. “Thank you, Helaine,” he finally said.
“For letting you stay in your own home?”
“For giving me a second chance.”
Her eyebrows shot up almost to her hairline. “I said nothing about a second chance, my lord.”
“A second chance to do this,” he said, gesturing to the two of them sitting companionably on a settee. “A second chance to be friends.”
Her mouth slipped open as if she wanted to say something but then found no words. She simply stared at him, and no wonder. Him? Friends with a dressmaker? The idea was ludicrous, and yet he desperately wanted it to be true. And truthfully, the idea was not so far-fetched, he realized. He was friends with Chandelle, wasn’t he? A madame at a former house of prostitution. Why could he not be friends with a dressmaker as well? Especially one who was insightful regarding his family, smart about business, and beautiful enough to make him ache with longing.
“Is it possible, Helaine? Could you trust me enough to be friends?”
She nodded slowly, her words coming out even more reluctantly. “Yes, my lord, I believe it is possible. Not probable, but definitely possible.”
He would take that as a boon and be grateful. “Then you must swear to call me Robert.”
“You know I cannot do that!”
“When we are alone, Helaine. Only when we are alone.”
She ducked her head, but a moment later she was looking back at him. “Very well, Robert. But only on the very unlikely occasions when we are alone together.”
He grinned. “Excellent! Now—”
“Now I shall be going to bed, Robert.” She straightened her legs and bent slightly to put on her slippers. He entertained himself by looking boldly at her trim ankles as he scrambled for a way to entice her to stay.
“Of course you should go rest. I’ll wager it has been a very long day for you.”
“Yes, it most certainly has.”
“Too bad, too, because I very much wanted to tell you about what happened at the mine. That’s where I was, you know. This whole long, exhausting, frustrating week. I was at the mine working hand in dirty hand with Charlie.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “Would you like to hear what happened?”
