Loving Helen

by Michele Paige Holmes

  I am strong — strong enough to do this. This, being to stand beside Grace, watch her speak vows and then embark on a life of happiness. While I am about to embark on —

  “Excuse us a moment, Grace,” Christopher said as he appeared in the doorway. He looked sharp in his suit as he strode forward, taking Helen’s arm and leading her outside.

  Grace looked after them curiously as Helen shrugged. Who knows what Christopher is about now? She had a few words for him after this was all over, but she dared not start on those now, fearing her emotions would overwhelm her and ruin Grace’s day.

  He led them past the open church doors and down the steps. Helen squinted against the sun — she’d taken off her cloak and bonnet already but could not muster enough emotion to care that she was outside without either. Instead she tried to feel grateful that Grace was to be married on such a beautiful day. Crocuses pushed through the ground, revealing bursts of color all around the small stone building, and the air felt especially spring-like, given that it was only the last day of February.

  “You might try to appear happy,” Christopher started in, scolding her. “What will Samuel think if he sees you looking as if you’re about to cry?”

  “I don’t suppose he will think anything,” Helen said. “And if you are scolding people for appearing dour, perhaps you ought to speak with Samuel as well. He has been in quite a serious mood all morning.”

  “Why do you suppose that is?” Christopher asked, sounding exasperated as he ran his fingers through his hair, making a mess of it.

  “I don’t know,” Helen lied. I don’t wish to discuss it with you. “Perhaps he feels as I do — somewhat envious of their happiness.”

  “There is no need for you to be envious.” Christopher glanced heavenward. “Would that you were here, Grandfather, to shake some sense into my sisters. At times like these, I fear what you’ve asked of me is too much.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?” Helen reached out, placing her hand on Christopher’s forehead. “Are you ill? Have you a fever?” First Samuel spoke to his deceased wife, and now Christopher was speaking to Grandfather? Did all the men she knew speak to the dead?

  “I promised that I would see you and Grace happily wed and that I would protect you from Father and any other man who would do you harm. You’ve no idea the task it has been.”

  “Well, I am sorry,” Helen said, feeling anything but. She placed her hands on her hips. “You needn’t worry over taking care of me or finding me a husband to keep me safe. I am quite capable of looking out for myself.”

  “Then do it!” Christopher said, loudly enough that those inside likely heard. More quietly, he added, “Open your eyes, and quit hiding behind your fear. Samuel loves you. He will still marry you, but now you will have to ask.”

  “I will —” She broke off, giving a harsh laugh. “I am not Beth. I cannot simply ask a man to dance — or to marry me.” Especially when it would affect his life so terribly.

  “Then you should have said yes when he asked you,” Christopher said.

  Helen narrowed her eyes at him. “No, I should not have. I cannot bring Samuel — and his daughter — into our situation. It will be bad enough worrying for my safety and yours. I cannot comprehend worrying for them as well. Not to mention that it was your idea he marry me.” Helen turned away with a flounce of curls.

  “Comprehend this, dear sister,” Christopher said, taking her arm and turning her around to face him once more. “Samuel is already part of this situation, and by virtue of that, so is Beth. From the moment Crayton saw us at the theatre, they became involved.”

  “It doesn’t have to stay that way,” Helen argued.

  “You’re right,” Christopher said. “But he wants it to. He loves you so much that he’s ready to risk his life for you. But you wouldn’t let him get that far. You crushed his heart the minute he offered it.”

  “It wasn’t an offer —” Not the one I hoped for. “I do not want him marrying me to protect me. I want his feelings to be real, too.”

  “They are,” Christopher insisted. “He’s shown it at least a dozen times that I have seen. I’ve never known a man more besotted with a woman, save perhaps Lord Sutherland over Grace.”

  “You asked us to behave as if we were in love,” Helen reminded him. “And Samuel has done so remarkably well.”

  “I asked you,” Christopher said, “not only to help Grace and Lord Sutherland reunite, but so you and Samuel might realize your feelings for each other. I assure you, his are no more pretend than yours.”

  “Then why has he not told me he loves me?” Helen asked, wanting to believe but still fearing Christopher was wrong, that Samuel had somehow been coerced into this entire situation.

  “Consider this,” Christopher said. “Samuel has known the loss of his wife, and he has known the sting of rejection from Grace. And this morning he has heard nothing but frustration and resentment from you, simply because of his efforts to keep you safe. Might it not be fair for you to declare your love to him first? And if you do not — today —” Christopher forged on without allowing her a chance to speak — “you may lose him, and his precious Beth, forever. They will go home, and you will be here alone. Is that what you want?”

  Helen turned away, brushing at the tears suddenly spilling from her eyes. “If your intention in talking to me was for me to appear cheerful, you have failed miserably.”

  “I have failed at much more than that if I cannot get you to speak up and declare your feelings to the man you love,” Christopher said quietly.

  Helen made no response. Such a declaration would not be the simple thing he made it out to be.

  “In fifteen minutes, I will walk Grace up the aisle to stand beside Lord Sutherland before the vicar,” Christopher said. “I would like to walk you up that aisle too and be witness to two weddings today.”

  “What?” Helen whirled to face him. “Are you completely mad? That is impossible. Banns have not been posted, and —”

  “Samuel obtained a special license at the same time Lord Sutherland did, earlier this week. I certainly did not force him to that, just as I did not force him to kiss you in the gazebo or to dance three times with you at the Ellises’ ball. He does love you, Helen.”

  She brought her hands to her pounding heart as a dozen evidences of Samuel’s caring flooded her mind. Safe or happy … Can it not be both?

  “Oh, Christopher.” She turned her anguished gaze upon him. “I am such a wretched fool.”

  “Yes, you are,” he readily agreed, but his lazy grin appeared. “We are making some progress at last.”

  Helen wrung her hands. “But I would still worry for his safety, and that is such a lot of money to pay Crayton, and I thought Samuel only felt compelled to offer his protection and —”

  “I know.” Christopher seized her arms and looked directly at her. “I have already heard from him the whole miserable conversation. And do you know what he said after telling me of your refusal?”

  Helen shook her head.

  “He said he did not regret that he had opened his heart to you, because love was always worth the price. And he was sorry you did not feel the same.”

  “But I do,” Helen said, anguished over her earlier, harsh words and the unkind way she had spoken to him. “What must he think of me?”

  “Right now I would guess that he is trying not to think of you and is rather miserable, believing, as he must, that you do not care for him after all — and this after I had assured him repeatedly that you did. You rejected not only his protection and money this morning, but his love as well.”

  “I cannot face him,” Helen said, unable even to raise her head to look at Christopher.

  He took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “Find your courage, Helen. It is not too late to fix this. Tell him how you feel.” He pulled a paper — the special marriage license — from his pocket and waved it at her. “I will be awaiting your decision.” Christopher turned and hurried back
up the steps and into the chapel.

  Helen remained outside, left her alone to contemplate her choices — marriage or loneliness, courage or misery. Or perhaps it might be courage and misery, if Christopher and Samuel were wrong and something terrible happened.

  Love is always worth the price. Find your courage, Helen.

  She wiped her face and dried her tears as best she could, careful not to muss the sleeves of her gown. Beth, at least, will be pleased to see me in it. Helen had not worn it since the day she’d met Samuel in the garden and she and Beth had played Camelot.

  The ladies of old were brave and bold. How many times had she and Beth sung that as they skipped across the lawn? Helen smiled, remembering those carefree afternoons when she had regaled Beth with the stories of women who had lived in perilous times. And the brave acts they had to do — often in the name of love.

  They had to be bold. So why shouldn’t I?

  The few guests were seated in the pews. Miranda and Harrison sat together, Helen noted happily. When she’d done what she could for her own situation, she resolved that she would do what she could for theirs. It would likely be much easier than remedying her own mistake.

  “I did not quite believe that Nicholas was serious about getting married today,” Grace said, looking pensively at the solemn vicar waiting at the head of the chapel. “But at least I had an hour’s notice.” She glanced at Helen. “You have had only minutes to decide. Are you certain this is what you wish to do?”

  “She’s certain.” Christopher came to stand between them, taking each by an elbow.

  “Eager to be rid of us, are you?” Helen asked, smiling at him nonetheless. She didn’t want to remember this as the day she and Christopher quarreled.

  “You’ve no idea.” He kissed each of them on the cheek. “Though I fear my life is about to become dreadfully boring without you two to keep watch over.”

  “It will serve you right,” Grace said. “Perhaps, in our absence, you will learn to appreciate female company.”

  “Perhaps,” Christopher said, but his faraway gaze spoke of travel and adventure. “Are you ready now? We should begin before the vicar decides I have not paid him quite enough for our change of plans.”

  “I am ready,” Grace said. They stepped from the side room to the back of the chapel. Grace focused at once on the front and Lord Sutherland’s striking figure, waiting there.

  Helen looked for Samuel and noted that he sat beside Beth, who was already squirming on the front pew.

  The organ sounded its opening note. Helen exchanged smiles with Grace and felt her heart nearly burst with happiness for her.

  This day could not be more perfect for her wedding, Helen thought as they began walking. She only wished she knew if it would end that way for herself as well, or, if in a few minutes’ time, she would be returning down the aisle — alone.

  The march to the front of the chapel seemed to take less than a minute. Christopher turned to Grace and kissed her cheek lightly. He faced Helen next, kissing her cheek and whispering, “Trust me.”

  She gave the barest nod and released his arm, then clasped her trembling hands in front of her. Christopher stepped back from their view.

  “Hello, Miss Helen,” Beth whispered loudly from the front pew. Helen sent a warm smile her way, then felt it falter as she took in the little girl’s awkwardly shorn hair. But Beth’s grin only widened, as if to ask if Helen liked her new style.

  If there is something about ourselves that we do not like, we must work to improve it. Beth’s logic rang through Helen’s mind as she imagined the child taking scissors to her hair to improve it, much as she had tried to improve her dress by painting it.

  Yes, we must, Helen silently answered. I must be more courageous. Bending low beside the pew, she whispered to Beth. “You look beautiful today.” And she did. Somehow the randomly cropped curls gave Beth an impish look that perfectly suited her. Helen felt a swell of love for the little girl — and the man seated beside her. It was the bolster she needed.

  I cannot lose them.

  Her eyes traveled from Beth to her father. “I love you, Samuel,” Helen whispered. His gaze rose to hers, and she felt crushed at the disbelief she read there. He did not say the words back, or anything else, and Helen had no choice but to stand and face the vicar — alone.

  “Gentlemen —” The vicar looked from Lord Sutherland to Samuel. “Please take your places next to your brides.” Astonished gasps and whispers rippled through the audience. They were expecting this even less than she had been.

  Lord Sutherland came to stand beside Grace, but Helen remained alone. She kept her gaze forward and counted in her head, resolved to wait several seconds before she would slip, humiliated, into the closest pew.

  One. Two. Three. Four. The seconds ticked by in agonizing slowness. Tears were building behind her eyes while her chest and throat tightened, making it difficult to breathe. Five. Six. Seven …

  He will not join me. I was too late.

  Eight. Nine. Ten.

  A hand clasped hers, its familiar warmth flooding her with both relief and joy. Helen turned to Samuel as the first tear escaped and slid down the side of her face. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He merely offered a tentative, fleeting smile, and the vulnerability Helen read in his eyes pierced her all the more — much more than she had felt wounded by him that morning. How could I refuse him, when he has lost so much before? And after all he has given me.

  Helen wanted to talk to him, to explain why she had initially refused but stood here now. But first, we must be married!

  She faced the vicar. Samuel released her hand but stood close enough that their shoulders touched.

  “Dearly beloved,” the vicar began, and Helen felt his words touch her soul. She wanted Samuel to know he was beloved, and she felt a sort of desperation to show him. But the ceremony seemed to go on forever and — times two — even longer than that.

  When the scriptures had all been read, Lord Sutherland presented Grace with a wedding band and spoke his vows, then the two of them knelt. The vicar then turned to Samuel and Helen. She swallowed, uncertain what to expect. What shall we do without a ring? But Samuel withdrew one from his coat pocket, took her hand, and slipped the silver band onto her finger. Helen glanced down and felt her throat constrict as a small ruby shone at her from the center of the band. It was a gift that had nothing to do with protection and everything to do with love.

  “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.” Samuel took her other hand, and they knelt together.

  Keeping you safe is but part of the bargain, she imagined him thinking.

  The vicar returned his attention to Lord Sutherland and Grace.

  Helen leaned closer to Samuel. “My feelings have never been pretend,” she whispered. “I have loved you for so long. Please forgive me my lack of courage and faith.”

  He didn’t have time to answer, for the vicar’s gaze was upon them again as he led the prayer. At last they were blessed, and the ceremony was done. Samuel helped Helen to stand. She felt suddenly shy of him. We are truly married. She turned to congratulate Grace and was shocked to find her sister enveloped in her new husband’s embrace right there for all to see.

  “If it is good enough for Nicholas …” Samuel pulled Helen close as a smile lit his face. She felt relieved to see it.

  “Samuel,” she began to scold when he tugged her closer yet; then she thought the better of it and kissed him instead. Lady Sutherland’s shocked gasp echoed through the chapel.

  “You were right,” he said, drawing back and grinning broadly. “You are not shy.”

  “You had best take good care of my little sister,” Grace said, seeming somewhat surprised at Samuel’s forwardness and Helen’s acceptance.

  “I intend to take excellent care of her,” Samuel said. “Loving Helen shall be our new life’s purpose, won’t it Beth?” He reached down, picking his daughte
r up as he winked at Helen. “I imagine it shall be a most fulfilling endeavor.”

  June

  “Wake up! Wake up! The roses are blooming.” Small, slightly sticky hands pressed upon Helen’s cheeks, smashing them inward. She opened her eyes and found Beth’s quite close.

  “The roses are blooming. Come see them.” Releasing Helen’s cheeks, Beth grabbed her hand, attempting — without success — to tug her from the bed.

  “Where do you think you’re taking my wife?” Samuel growled as he sat up suddenly, hands raised in the air as if he were a madman. He made a grab for Beth but not before she’d jumped out of reach, shrieking loudly.

  “The evil king demands an explanation at once,” Samuel said. “Explain this rude awakening, or he may consider eating you for breakfast.”

  “Oh, Papa.” Beth giggled behind her hand. “You told me to watch for the roses to bloom, and I have. It’s time to show Mama her surprise.”

  Surprise? For once another word eclipsed the sweet thrill of Beth’s loving endearment. Helen rolled over to look at Samuel. “What have you two been plotting?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see.” Samuel kissed the top of her nose, then whisked the covers back so that it was Helen who shrieked and jumped as she hurried to pull her nightgown to a more modest length.

  “Come. Get on your wrap, and we shall all go down.” Amid Helen’s protests that she could not go downstairs if she wasn’t wearing at least a morning gown, he swept her from the bed and hurried her into her robe.

  “How will we cover her eyes?” Beth asked as Samuel tied the sash at Helen’s waist.

  “A very good question,” he said. “But one I have thought of already.” Reaching behind him, he pulled the previous night’s hastily discarded cravat from a chair and proceeded to wrap it around Helen’s eyes.

  “I do not think it will be much of a surprise when I fall down the stairs because I cannot see,” she muttered good-naturedly, having no doubt that Samuel would steer her safely to wherever the surprise happened to be.