It is my mission to see that young woman’s name on every guest list from now until the Season’s end, Olive had promised. Perhaps she will even receive an invitation to the country. Everyone who is anyone of importance retires North for hunting.
Helena had been surprised by this revelation. Wickie hadn’t discussed life in England often, but he had led her to believe ladies’ activities were less adventurous.
Do ladies hunt?
It depends on whether she has landed a buck during the Season, Olive had responded with a smirk.
Helena smiled with fondness at the baron’s sister.
“If I am to use your Christian name,” Miss Thorne said, “you must call me Eve.” Her hand fluttered to her chest. “And a personal recommendation from Lady Norwick? I never once thought Madame Girard would allow me an appointment.”
Helena’s heart warmed as a dreamy expression crossed the woman’s lovely face. Perhaps someday Helena would be able to put that same dreamy look on her own sister’s face.
“Lady Eldridge is responsible for the recommendation to Madame Girard. She knows Lady Norwick from their involvement with the Mayfair Ladies Charitable Society.”
The Countess of Norwick was a generous benefactor of the charity and apparently one of the modiste’s favorite patrons, since she had been able to secure an appointment for Eve. Rumor had it ladies waited months to see Madame Girard.
“I must send a letter around to the countess to thank her,” Eve said. “I am overwhelmed by everyone’s kindness. Thank you again for sponsoring me. I can’t imagine the reason you would choose me, but I am so very grateful.”
Helena smiled and sipped her tea as Eve launched into tales of her foray into Society two years earlier. She suspected the young woman wished to warn her of the huge undertaking it would be to act as her sponsor, but Helena was unconcerned. Even if Lord Thorne withdrew his promise to help her, she couldn’t stomach the thought of disappointing his sister.
She eased the saucer and cup onto her lap as Eve began to describe her first waltz.
“Sebastian made the poor man sign my dance card. Of course, that is what friends do for each other. They dance with younger sisters so the brothers don’t have to do it themselves.” She laughed, obviously reliving that evening, and Helena couldn’t resist joining in. “Lord Ellis watched his feet the entire time and was counting under his breath. It is a wonder he didn’t dance us into the wall.”
Helena sobered. “I had no idea your brother and Lord Ellis had been friends.”
“I’m not certain friends is the correct term. They were always challenging each other to the most ridiculous contests, but Bastian seemed to like the earl well enough before…” Miss Thorne’s gaze strayed to the mantel and she sipped her tea.
Before the earl stole away with Lord Thorne’s fiancée. Everyone knew what had happened and talked about it freely, all except his loyal sister. How unfair that Lord Thorne should bear the brunt of a scandal he didn’t cause while Lord and Lady Ellis appeared mostly unscathed. But Lady Ellis had a large, influential family to stand beside her, and Lord Thorne only had his mother and an ostracized sister.
Helena sat up taller. Well, Eve had her now too, and with Olive’s support, Helena would see her new friend restored to her place in Society. Perhaps Lord Thorne would be judged less severely if his sister made a good match and proved what Helena already knew: there was nothing distasteful about the Thornes.
A small shiver traveled the length of her back when she recalled just how appealing she had found Lord Thorne as they had danced together.
It was difficult to believe he wanted to be her ally, but as far as she knew, he had begun his investigation last night with a visit to one of the most popular brothels. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, preferring not to think about his activities. Although she couldn’t help wondering what he had learned. About Lavinia, that is. He already seemed to know a lot about…activities and such. Unfortunately, she didn’t know when she would cross paths with him next.
She and Lord Thorne had agreed there could be no more meetings at her town house—after all, her reputation must remain intact to help anyone—but waiting for word and not knowing when it would come chipped at her patience.
She sat her cup aside. “How is your brother? Did you see him this morning?”
Eve’s brows arched over clever eyes so similar to her brother’s. “Sebastian is well. I think he was pleased when I told him of Lady Eldridge’s invitation to tea and the visit to Madame Girard’s dress shop, but he was racing out the door with the newssheet and did not say much.” She sighed. “I don’t think there is anything he wouldn’t do for Mama and me, but I want to wring his neck for stealing the newssheet every morning.”
“He steals the newssheet?”
Eve rolled her eyes. “He thinks he is shielding us from gossip, but if we venture from the house, we still hear whispers and notice the stares.”
Did he truly do that? Helena’s heart softened toward him a little more. He loved his family and wanted to protect them just like Helena wanted to protect hers. Perhaps she had misjudged him.
“I assume they are speaking about me again,” Eve said, sounding unexpectedly serene. “Heaven only knows why my story would be of interest after two years. It must be a slow Season.”
Helena studied the lady across from her. Eve smiled and sipped her tea. She truly didn’t know what the gossips were saying, did she? Well, Helena wasn’t going to be the one to tell her, especially when her brother made efforts to protect her.
Everyone said the former Lord Thorne suffered from madness, but it was obvious insanity didn’t run in the family as people claimed. Eve and her brother seemed well balanced, but there was usually some basis for rumors. Perhaps someday Eve would trust Helena enough to volunteer the information. Until then, she would mind her own affairs.
“People can be ignorant and cruel,” Helena said. “It is best to ignore them.”
“And some restore my faith, like you and Lady Eldridge.”
“Thank you,” she demurred.
Lady Thorne and Olive rejoined them moments later, and they passed the time pleasantly discussing upcoming entertainments until the mantel clock struck the half hour.
“We should leave if we want to make Miss Thorne’s appointment with Madame Girard,” Helena said.
Olive waved off the invitation. “I have correspondence demanding my attention. Shopping is a young ladies’ pastime. Go, enjoy yourselves.”
Lady Thorne nodded, smiling. “I couldn’t agree more, and quiet afternoons lying about are for old ladies. I have a fainting couch awaiting my return.”
Outside, Eve bid her mother farewell with a kiss to her cheek then eagerly climbed into the Prestwick coach with Helena for the short ride to Bond Street.
They climbed from the carriage and stood on the walk outside Madame Girard’s dress shop. It was snugly wedged between a haberdashery and a sweetshop. Harnesses rattled and struts squeaked as carriages carrying fashionable ladies traveled the busy thoroughfare. Helena closed her eyes for one moment to savor the scent of coffee hanging on the air from the coffeehouse across the street. Such a heavenly scent for such a foul-tasting brew.
“Sebastian!” Eve’s surprised call startled Helena and her eyes flew open.
Lord Thorne was in the middle of the street. When an opening presented between carriages, he dashed forward to join them on the walkway.
“What brings you to Bond Street, dear brother?”
“You will need an account set up with Madame Girard, so I decided to meet you.” He grinned at Helena and tipped his hat. “Good afternoon, Lady Prestwick.”
Helena offered a small curtsy. “Lord Thorne.”
Eve looked from her brother to Helena, her smile widening. “What a perfect opportunity for you to become better acquainted with Lady Prestwick. I think you will get on well.” If Lord Thorne recognized the scheming glint to his sister’s eyes, he pretended not to notice and offered Eve his
arm.
Helena turned toward the dress shop before either sibling could spot the heated flush rising in her cheeks. The bell suspended above the door tinkled merrily as she preceded them inside. A shopgirl greeted them then bustled away to retrieve Madame Girard.
The modiste emerged from a back room, head held high. She was bone-thin with chiseled features and a wide forehead, but her appearance proved to be the only thing sharp about her. With a voice like warm molasses and the gentleness of a mother with her babe, she took Eve under her care and ushered her to the platform beyond the curtains to take her measurements. Madame Girard’s assistant yanked the curtains closed, blocking Helena and Lord Thorne’s view.
“This could take some time.” He gently took Helena’s elbow to guide her toward a corner of the shop where lace was on display. He absently lifted a loose end dangling from the bolt then let it flutter from his fingers. “Very nice.”
Helena smiled wryly. “Are you having a petticoat made, my lord?”
“I was considering drawers,” he said with a waggle of his eyebrows.
She chuckled as she imagined him in ladies’ drawers and pulled down a bolt of frilly red lace. “I believe this is more suited for your coloring.”
He winked. “Who said I was purchasing the drawers for myself?”
Helena’s breath caught as his meaning hit her. He must keep a mistress. Her reflection in Madame Girard’s oval looking glass rivaled the red lace. She shoved the bolt back on the shelf and moved on to something less scandalous.
Leather gloves seemed innocuous enough.
He joined her and leaned casually against the counter. “I hope you realize I was teasing. I have no need for ladies’ drawers, either for myself or anyone else.”
She sank against the glass countertop, almost laughing in relief. She had no say in what he did in his spare time. In truth, she had no reason to be bothered by what he did at the brothels on her behalf either, but she was.
He leaned close to her ear, his nearness making her heart skip. “I didn’t just come to set up an account for Eve. I thought waiting for a report from last night might be difficult.”
She swiveled in his direction, her breath shallow and quick. “Did you find her?”
“I’m sorry.” He shook his head slowly. “I hate disappointing you, but there has never been a woman by the name of Lavinia employed at either place.”
“Oh.” Tears burned her throat, but she swallowed them. It had been naive to think Lord Thorne would find her sister immediately, but she had gotten her hopes up anyway.
He gently patted her shoulder. “We will find her. We have only begun looking.”
We. Not I.
His gaze was earnest and gave her a sense he understood how important this was to her. Her heart melted even more. He had a way of lowering her defenses, and although it seemed unwise to allow him a step closer, she couldn’t help herself.
“Could she be using a false name?” he asked.
“I don’t think so. Fergus tracked her using her Christian name.”
“True.” His smile was comforting. “I will search again tonight after the House of Lords adjourns for the day. I will let you know what I have learned as soon as possible.”
Without stopping to think, she reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers. “Thank you. I mean that sincerely.”
The damask curtains flicked open again. Helena dropped his hand and came forward with a bright smile as Eve emerged from the back room.
“Lady Eldridge has ordered me to make certain you commission at least five new gowns,” Madame Girard said.
Eve’s gaze flicked toward her brother. “I have several gowns in my wardrobe already. Five seems extravagant.”
Lord Thorne nodded at Helena. “I am trusting you to make certain she commissions twice that many. A beautiful young lady deserves beautiful dresses.”
“Sebastian, that’s too much. Really, I have what I need.”
“You heard your brother, Miss Thorne.” Madame Girard clapped her hands, the matter apparently resolved in her mind. “Come along.”
The modiste commandeered Eve, practically dragging her to a long table with fashion plates scattered over the surface.
“Oh my!” Eve held up a sketch. “Helena, you must see this gown. It is spectacular.”
Lord Thorne detained Helena before she could comply. His dark eyes sparkled and made Helena’s knees shake. “Thank you, my lady. She hasn’t been this happy in a long time.”
Helena could barely think to form a response with the heat of his touch searing through her sleeve. “It—it’s my pleasure.”
He flashed a smile, then took his leave as Helena joined Eve and Madame Girard at the table. The shop seemed less lively with him gone, as if he took the warmth and light with him. Butterflies stirred in her belly as she anticipated their next encounter. And she was ashamed to admit the prospect of receiving news about her sister only partly accounted for her excitement.
Eleven
Sebastian took a moment to savor the mouthwatering aroma of ham and eggs the footman at Brooks’s set before him. Even though he was ravenous from his morning ride, he delayed satisfying his appetite. He had learned taking his time often wrought the most pleasure when he finally rewarded himself.
Lady Prestwick’s plump bottom lip came to mind and he smiled. Their daily encounters over the last week to report on his search for the servant girl increased his hunger for the lovely viscountess, and when he finally had her beneath him, it would be the sweetest of rewards.
He lifted his fork in preparation of devouring his meal just as the Earl of Ellis entered the room. Sebastian’s appetite vanished.
The earl scanned the room, locked his gaze on Sebastian, and headed in his direction with a determined set to his jaw. Several members of the club abandoned their activities to gawk.
God’s blood! He didn’t want to deal with Ellis or the curious stares. Before he knew it, he could be at the center of a ridiculous wager not of his doing, which was typically the case where he and Ellis were concerned.
Sebastian snatched up his knife with a snarl and vigorously sawed the ham on his plate.
Ellis stopped at the table and lifted a brow. “I don’t know what the ham did to earn your displeasure, but I’m sure it meant no offense.”
Sebastian popped a piece in his mouth, ignoring the earl and his oh-so-clever quip.
Ellis sat across the table as if they hadn’t had a falling-out. A ripple of whispers traveled the room and several gents perked up. Eyes locked on them, perhaps hoping for some excitement. Sebastian ignored them.
“Have you seen this yet?” Ellis pulled a bundle from under his arm and plopped it on the table. It was a copy of the ladies’ magazine Le Monde Couture.
“Following ladies’ fashions now, are you?”
Despite his irritation with the earl, Sebastian couldn’t help smiling as he recalled his conversation with Lady Prestwick about ladies’ drawers. The attractive pink that had infused her cheeks had been worth the risk of shocking her. It reminded him of that just-shagged flush ladies got.
Ellis opened the magazine and pushed it toward him. “She looks lovely.”
Staring back at him in glorious splendor was Eve in one of Madame Girard’s elegant gowns. The engraving caught her likeness in fine detail and the caption made him choke up. Miss Thorne turned heads at the Marblewick Ball in a stunning creation by talented modiste, Madame Girard.
When he looked up, Ellis grinned. “According to my mother-in-law, Miss Thorne drew many compliments at Lady Langston’s soiree last week too. I know it’s not your habit to read the Society column, but your sister’s beauty, charm, and amiable disposition have been mentioned several times recently.”
Sebastian glanced at The Morning Times lying on the table. After his failed attempt to stop Ellis and Lady Gabrielle from eloping, he had changed his habits and began scouring the gossip column for any mention of his name. He had even begun purchasing the gossip rag
s, much to his embarrassment. The tidbits written about him were mean-spirited and often fabrications, such as the last report he’d read in The Informer that claimed he arrived at “Lady L’s” door in the middle of the night naked and babbling nonsense.
Celeste denied any involvement in feeding the story to the paper, and her utter bewilderment had convinced him she knew nothing about it. If he could discover who owned the reviled paper, he would put a stop to the bloody lies. These last few days, however, Sebastian had been too preoccupied to care what was written about him.
“There is mention of Miss Thorne in the newssheet again today,” the earl said. “Very complimentary. Your sister has made quite the splash. Congratulations.”
Sebastian wanted to reject Ellis’s conciliatory gesture, but he couldn’t bring himself to be rude. “Thanks.” He slid the magazine back across the table. “I will purchase a copy on my way home. Eve will be beside herself.”
“Keep it. It’s a gift. Gabby and I wish her the best.”
Politeness was one thing. Sebastian refused to accept the earl’s charity. “Return it to your wife. I can afford a copy for Eve.”
“You know that wasn’t my meaning.” Ellis’s mouth turned down. “What will it take to make things right between us, Thorne?”
More than a bloody magazine. And yet, Sebastian felt more at ease in the other man’s presence today. Perhaps delivering this good news hadn’t been Ellis’s worst idea.
Sebastian shoveled more food in his mouth before he said something ridiculous like perhaps he no longer held a grudge against the earl. The past was less relevant now that Eve was back in Society and turning heads. She would receive an offer of marriage before the Season’s end, and Sebastian could rest easier knowing her future would be secure. Besides, he had more important matters on his mind, such as meeting Lady Prestwick at Finsbury Square in an hour. Still, he wasn’t ready to ease Ellis’s conscience by offering forgiveness.
The earl sighed after a time. “You haven’t been attending the assemblies with your sister. I am surprised.”
In Bed with a Rogue Page 8
