It didn’t bear thinking about, but he felt that he must consider it and somehow advise Miss Helen of the potential dangers. Beth had been so taken with her that first morning at breakfast — as was I — that he had thought of nothing but Miss Helen’s apparent way with children. Only now did he realize there were other, very serious matters to be pondered, if she was to find a suitable and safe position.
I would have to know the couple very well, Samuel realized, feeling an odd surge of protectiveness for the woman before him, busily exclaiming over Beth’s simple frock.
“Good evening to you both.” Miss Helen curtsied, and a few seconds later Beth, looking remiss, did the same.
Samuel took a lady on either side, holding his arm low for Beth, and escorted them into dinner. Remembering Miss Helen’s awkwardness the day they’d breakfasted some two months earlier, he’d come up with the idea to have Beth join them the first night Miss Helen came to dinner. His plan had gone spectacularly well. Not only had Miss Helen seemed more at ease, but Beth had eaten her dinner, used her utensils, and remained in her chair throughout the entire meal. Such success demanded he continue the pattern, unheard of as dining with one’s children was.
If he had any hope of taming his daughter’s wild ways, including her lack of manners when eating, it lay in the beautiful woman beside him.
Once they were seated and had been served by the staff, their usual conversation began. He began by inquiring after their day. “Were you in Camelot again this afternoon? Or was it—”
“Sherwood Forest,” Beth interrupted with a mouthful of food. Across the table from her, Miss Helen pressed her fingers to her lips and shook her head.
Beth closed her mouth and swallowed before saying more. “We were in Sherwood Forest, fighting Prince John.”
Samuel had been pleased to discover that nearly all of the adventures Miss Helen’s imagination conjured were based in literature. Without her even realizing it, Beth’s education had begun.
“And why were we fighting Prince John?” Miss Helen asked.
“He took everyone’s money,” Beth said. “And they were going to starve.”
“Unfair taxation,” Miss Helen clarified.
“He was bad.” Beth reached for her glass and tipped it sideways.
Samuel caught it before her drink could spill, then helped her bring the glass safely from the table to her lips. “Let me guess,” he said. “You were Maid Marian.”
Beth scrunched up her nose and frowned. She set her drink at the edge of the table. “I was Robin Hood. Watch me shoot an arrow.” She jumped up, knocking the glass on its side as she thrust her left arm forward. Her right arm drew back, fork still clutched tight in her fist.
“No, Beth!” Samuel and Miss Helen exclaimed at the same time.
“Whish,” Beth shouted. Her right hand punched forward, fingers straight, mimicking an arrow, and the fork flew from it, across the table. Miss Helen ducked, but not quite fast enough, and the potato-laden fork stuck fast in the curls topping her head. Beth clapped a hand over her mouth, and her eyes grew large.
“Beth!” Samuel reprimanded sharply. He stood, then reached for her as she turned from him. He leaned forward, hand outstretched to grab her, but again she was too fast, and he found himself with only a sleeve dipped in gravy for his efforts as she ran from the room, crying.
“Please see to it that she gets safely to the nursery,” Samuel instructed the servant closest to the door. With a nod the man was off, and Samuel and Miss Helen were left alone, each appearing somewhat worse for the experience.
As he returned to his seat, he watched her work to dislodge the fork from her hair.
“I’m sorry,” she began, but he held his hand up before she could say more.
“Do not apologize for my daughter’s behavior.”
“But it was I who told her of Robin Hood, who gave her the idea.”
“You suggested she throw her silverware at you during dinner?” Samuel asked, unable to keep the amusement from his voice.
“No.” Miss Helen succeeded in extracting the fork, though a sizeable dab of potatoes remained.
He looked away, but not before a burst of laughter sprang from his lips. He brought a fist quickly to his mouth, attempting to cover his mirth, but it was no use. She looked so utterly ridiculous.
Instead of seeming affronted by his behavior, Miss Helen’s shoulders sagged with evident relief, and her mouth turned up in a smile as well. “You are a fine one to laugh, with your sleeve dripping gravy on the tablecloth.”
“So I am,” Samuel said, holding up his arm and laughing harder. “We’re quite a pair.”
Miss Helen’s smile faltered.
“I know I should not be amused,” Samuel said, believing she did not find the situation humorous after all. “Beth’s behavior was atrocious; I am a terrible father.”
“You are a wonderful father.” She reached out, placing her hand on his arm. “Beth is a very fortunate little girl. She loves you dearly, and she will grow out of these behaviors.”
Samuel looked down at Miss Helen’s hand on his arm and constrained himself from placing his hand over it. During the past weeks, he’d learned that she did not like to be touched, especially unexpectedly. That she had voluntarily reached out to him said much — both about the changes she’d made since her arrival, and about the level of friendship they had attained. He dared not jeopardize that by reciprocating her warmth.
“Thank you.” He lifted his gaze to hers and was pleased when she did not look away. An entirely pleasant, comfortable feeling settled in his chest. “Beth and I are both fortunate to have found a friend in you, Miss Helen.” The truth of his statement tempered his laughter. They were most fortunate. He did not wish Miss Helen to find a position elsewhere. He wished, somehow, that she might continue on here.
Samuel attached the miniature fireplace to the dollhouse wall while Miss Helen hung the last of the curtains on the windows. Between the two of them, over the past few weeks, the house had transformed into a masterpiece. He had built the furniture; she’d painted it. He’d finished the stairs; she’d laid carpet. He’d shingled the roof; she’d papered the inside. He’d added a rail to the porch; she’d worked a miracle with her needle and thread, covering the tiny beds with quilts and the tables with cloths. He could hardly wait for Beth to see their creation.
With the last piece in place, he backed up, turning his head at the same moment Miss Helen did.
“Oh!” she exclaimed at their faces so close, noses nearly touching.
Samuel laughed, then grabbed her elbow to steady her as she reeled back. “If we’d been racing to see who finished first, we’d have to declare it a tie.”
“Are we finished, then?” she asked, blushing prettily as she extracted her arm and stepped back, putting more distance between them.
He almost wished she wouldn’t, then mentally scolded himself for the thought. Miss Helen was much younger than her sister, and he had no business thinking of her as other than a friend. Something he would do well to remember if he did not wish to scare her off.
Though Miss Helen’s shyness around him had improved, particularly during the hours they’d worked on the dollhouse, a part of her was still very reserved — cautious. She’d admitted to not fearing him, and he believed her, yet she continued to hold back, as if she was afraid of his becoming too familiar. Once, not so many weeks ago, he would have thought Miss Helen had plenty of time ahead of her to get used to him, particularly if he married Grace and Miss Helen became his sister-in-law.
But now … Samuel attempted to push the growing realizations to the back of his mind. Now, it did not seem likely that Grace would choose him over Nicholas. Not surprising. What was unexpected were his feelings — or lack thereof — on the matter. Samuel cared about Grace. He still believed that they might be happy together. But it was her sister he’d found occupying his thoughts of late. Worse than Grace’s potential rejection, it appeared that Miss Helen would not be his
guest much longer. Just yesterday, Christopher had returned with news of their inheritance. And while it boded well for the Thatcher family, Samuel could not bring himself to feel very happy about it. Beth would be devastated when Miss Helen left, and he would miss her company as well.
It is because of Beth that I am so upset about her leaving. Since becoming a parent, his thoughts always had to be first and foremost, for Beth’s welfare. She will be sad when Miss Helen leaves, and so I will be sad with her.
“I think we have completed everything. I declare the dollhouse finished,” Samuel said, feeling more than a twinge of regret. The cold December evenings had passed pleasantly in Miss Helen’s company, during a time he might otherwise have felt desolate. In addition to missing Elizabeth more at this festive time of year, he’d lost Grace’s companionship as well. She hadn’t come to see him at the fence for quite some time, not since the day he’d seen her on the road with Nicholas.
Samuel stepped back beside Miss Helen, and together they admired their work.
“I think I should like to live there,” she said quietly.
There was a wistfulness in her tone that caught him off-guard. He was unsure how to respond and finally came up with, “It is a splendid house.” He wondered if Helen had dreams and aspirations for her future. Did she aspire to marry someone like Lord Sutherland? Had her time spent with her grandfather roused a desire for a fine home and a titled husband?
“Splendid,” she said. “Excepting the fact that the inhabitants shall have to climb up the outside wall to reach the attic nursery.”
“Bah.” Samuel chuckled and waved his hand dismissively. “A petty detail. And a good way to add some adventure to one’s day. Beth will not be bothered by it.”
Miss Helen’s lips twitched. “I would not be so certain if I were you.” She reached in, adjusting the furniture in the kitchen once more. “Beth is very intelligent and is quite specific in her opinions.”
“Well, she shall have to request another father if she does not absolutely adore this dollhouse.” His gaze and tone turned serious. “I thank you both.” He looked from Miss Helen to her maid, who was busily sewing in the opposite corner. “It would have been very plain without your talents.”
“I am so glad we finished in time,” Miss Helen said.
“As am I.” Samuel glanced at her as an acute and strange awareness concerning time passed over him. The past three Decembers had been nothing but misery. Of course giving Beth presents had always made for joy on Christmas morning, but the month leading up to the holiday had seemed to crawl by, a time during which the constant loneliness that was his only companion hurt more keenly. But this December had been different. It has passed quickly — too quickly — filled with delightful evenings spent at Miss Helen’s side, as together they created this treasure for Beth.
“Christmas Eve will not see us up late working,” Samuel said, half wishing it would have. The invitation to Nicholas’s Christmas Eve ball still lay in his coat pocket, where it had for several days, ever since he’d received it. The time for a proper response had long passed, and Samuel was not yet certain whether he wished to attend — to see for myself the path Grace has chosen, and to discover that my hope has been in vain.
Had the dollhouse not been completed, his decision would have been easy. Making Christmas ready for Beth would have come first.
“You are finished?” Harrison asked, entering the room, snow still clinging to his boots. “And just in the nick of time.” He pulled a letter from his pocket and directed his gaze at Miss Helen. “This arrived from your father. It appears he’s had it for some time and didn’t send it on. It had already been opened.”
Miss Helen took the letter and read it quickly, her fingers trembling. “It is from Lord Sutherland,” she said, glancing about the room at the three of them. “He has requested my company, and Christopher’s — and yours—” she glanced up at Miranda and then Harrison — “for the duration of the Christmas season.”
Samuel watched as a myriad of emotions crossed Miss Helen’s face. Her first thought, he would have bet, had been elation at the thought of seeing Grace. And her second thought seemed to be one of disappointment and perhaps sadness, making him wonder if she was thinking of Beth and how she would miss their daily adventures.
Will she miss me? Or does she think of me simply as Beth’s father? It was entirely probable that she did, older as he was.
Regardless of Miss Helen’s feelings, they would miss her. Over the past few weeks it seemed she had spent more time with Beth than her nanny did. Several times, Samuel had been on the verge of asking Miss Helen if she would consider a position as Beth’s governess, something that would make Beth immensely happy and bring him a great deal of relief. He would worry about Miss Helen were she to become a governess elsewhere. And besides, her quiet, reserved manner was the very antithesis of Beth’s rambunctious one. They were a good balance for each other. But now that the matter of the inheritance had been settled favorably, Miss Helen would not need to be employed. Neither did she need to stay any longer, now that she had been summoned to Sutherland Hall.
“You must go,” Samuel forced himself to say. “Your sister should not be without you at Christmas.” Grace had been away from her family long enough. Whatever was to happen between her and Nicholas would happen, and it would not be affected by proximity to her family now.
“But Lord Sutherland —” Miss Helen set the letter aside and dropped into a chair.
“Do not be frightened of Nicholas,” Samuel said. “I believe your sister has tamed him considerably, else he would have run me over the day I spied them kissing at the crossroad.”
“What?” Miss Helen stood abruptly. “They were kissing — on the road?”
“He was kissing her. Let’s leave it at that,” Samuel said, wishing he hadn’t brought it up. Miss Helen’s wide eyes and open mouth clearly showed how appalled she was. And her maid’s lips had turned down so low as to almost reach her chin. Harrison eyed the door with a look that seemed to suggest he was about to charge through it, straight over to Sutherland Hall to defend Grace’s honor.
“Suffice it say,” Samuel added hastily, “that I have reason to believe they have come to care deeply for each other. If not, Lord Sutherland would not have invited you for so much as tea.”
“What is this about tea?” Christopher asked, carrying an armload of wood into the house.
“You are to let me do that,” Harrison scolded.
“I know you’re more than capable,” Christopher said. “But I enjoy the work.”
Restless, that one, Samuel thought. He hoped Christopher would use their recently awarded inheritance wisely and find a profession that suited him. At twenty he still had time to learn a trade. And it looked probable that he would have enough funds to receive some schooling, at least, if that was his desire, as it seemed likely that at least one of his sisters would not be in need of support. Kindly, he had agreed to hold off sharing his good news until after Christmas.
At the least I would like to be the one to present Grace with the option for freedom she has longed for.
“I’ll begin packing at once.” Miranda brushed past them and hurried toward the stairs.
Samuel guessed she was eager to see Grace. He knew it had been difficult for her to be separated from her charge.
“Where are you going?” Christopher asked. “Has something happened I ought to be made aware of?”
“Yes. Your sister has been caught kissing at the crossroad,” Harrison muttered irritably, his eyes still fixed upon the door.
“Truly?” Christopher’s brows rose as he turned his gaze on Helen.
“Not I!” Her mouth hung open, as if appalled at the thought.
Of kissing in public, or just of kissing? Samuel wondered. “Your other sister,” he clarified for Christopher. “I caught Lord Sutherland kissing her while they were out driving.”
A grin spread across Christopher’s face. “About time, I’d say. Jo
lly good news, that.”
Helen shook her head and started toward the door. “I must tell Beth goodbye.” She took her cloak from the hook and threw it around her shoulders. Samuel watched her leave, imagining how she must feel.
Her sister. My daughter. Is there not a way for Miss Helen to have both? He intended to find out, to put Grace to a decision, though he’d already guessed what her answer was likely to be.
But if Grace were here with me, then Helen could remain. Beth would be happy. I could be too. And if Grace marries Nicholas, could Helen not stay with her sister and visit here daily?
So simple, Samuel feared it to be impossible.
The doors to Sutherland Hall opened, and a rather stern-looking butler stood back to admit them.
“Where is she? What have you done with her?” Harrison demanded, leading the march across the vast foyer, in search of Grace, with Christopher and Miranda close on his heel. “I’ve a need to see her with my own eyes before I’m about any other tasks.”
Helen lingered behind. Her gaze flitted about, taking in the dark wood and somewhat somber appearance of the entrance hall. Compared to the light of Mr. Preston’s house, Lord Sutherland’s seemed practically medieval, though with a touch of festiveness, at least. Holly adorned all of the banisters.
How has Grace survived here? Eager to see her, though somewhat frightened of what else she might find, Helen hurried forward, arriving at the drawing room doors at the same time as the others. Together they entered, with Lord Sutherland’s butler, looking rather concerned, close behind.
“It is quite all right,” the man who had to be Lord Sutherland called over their heads as they rushed toward Grace. Helen spied her as she sprang from the bottom step of a ladder near an enormous evergreen tree, the scent of which filled the room.
Loving Helen Page 7
