The Sleeping Beauty

by Jacqueline Navin

  Surveying the finished effect, she was pleased. Her lips were curved in a half smile without her being aware of it. Spots of color staining her high cheekbones made her eyes sparkle.

  Straining closer, she almost thought she recognized something in her reflection. The Helena of old had never looked this excited or…or happy. But there was a similarity. She was filling out, she noticed, and looking decidedly less wan.

  Less scrawny.

  The curve of her lips deepened. She was looking forward to seeing Adam’s face when she appeared downstairs. She expected he would most definitely notice her transformation. It was a scene she savored as she finished her preparations and descended the steps.

  Adam detested formal wear. The cravat, which he tended to wear loosely tied for day, was positively strangling him. It was all he could do to keep from sticking his finger into the knot and loosening it.

  One look at the parson, a Mr. Gerret, and his wife, Genevieve Gerret, told him no such informality would be tolerated. Pleasant and eager to please, they offered instant avowals of friendship within mere seconds of their having been introduced. They were given drinks and settled into seats, and Lord Rathford, in an astonishing show of hosting finesse, steered them into conversation. It didn’t take much to wind their spring. They immediately began a thorough rousting of each and every inhabitant of the “neighborhood,” and Rathford, having done his part to get them going, settled back to nurse his whiskey.

  Adam took his drink with him to a seat. He watched them, amused at the smooth synchronicity of their dual conversation. One would speak, then the other would effortlessly pick up the conversation, finishing the sentence or anticipating flawlessly the direction of the next comment.

  “Well, Beth’s too fond of her wine,” Mrs. Gerret said of one poor victim.

  “And has a tendency to belch,” Mr. Gerret added.

  “Quite loudly. But—”

  “She is a dear.” Mr. Gerret patted his wife’s hand. “Indeed it is so.”

  “Her husband is a saint.”

  “Right-o. Robbie worked for their grace, up at the big house. Loved her grace, he did.”

  “The new duchess, not the old one.”

  “Oh, heavens me, not the old one. He detested the old one, the present duke’s mother. You never met her.” Mr. Gerret wrinkled his face. “Wretched woman.”

  They shivered in unison.

  “But her grace is a divine creature. Robbie always adored her. Even when she was the governess to those two poor mites and fighting all the time with his grace, Robbie stuck by her.”

  Adam’s head ached already, trying to keep track of so many persons. None of whom he had the slightest interest in, although he did perk up when he finally deciphered that the beloved “her grace” to whom they referred was the charming Chloe, whom he had met in the village.

  “Tell us about you, Mr. Mannion,” Mrs. Gerret asked suddenly.

  He had expected their curiosity and was prepared. Launching into a harmless yarn about his past, he amused them until they were disturbed by a rustle of silk at the door.

  All eyes glanced up—and stuck. His included. Every jaw in the room dropped to gape. His included.

  Helena had arrived. At least, he thought it was Helena. Or a ghost. It was as if the portrait in the unused parlor had come to life.

  Chapter Ten

  Helena had…changed. She was beautiful. Radiating beauty and confidence, she immediately dominated the room with her presence, and Adam found he had completely lost track of the lies he’d been telling.

  “Hello, Parson. Hello, Mrs. Gerret.” She sailed into the room with breathtaking grace, hands extended to grasp those of the guests. Then she went to her father and reached up on tiptoe to give the old bear a peck on the cheek. Adam thought he saw a tear in the old man’s eye as his gaze followed his daughter.

  Adam surmised it had been a long time since Lord Rathford had seen Helena look so well.

  She came to his side, looking for all the world like a woman eager to be with her betrothed. Then he remembered he was supposed to breathe, so he did, and that seemed to snap him out of shock.

  Helena knew exactly what effect she had had on everyone, he could tell right off. Giving him a smile beguiling enough to melt the stockings off his feet, she slipped an arm through his and cocked her head in such an incredibly coquettish fashion that a thin sweat broke out upon his upper lip.

  “I was just telling the Gerrets how we met,” he managed to say. Thank God he didn’t sound as stupid as he felt.

  Her eyes widened.

  “Hunting. You were walking and I came across you and we talked. I remember it as if it were yesterday.” Turning back to the Gerrets, he chuckled and patted Helena’s hand. “She hates for anyone to know about that. You see, she was wearing men’s breeches and riding astride, so she feels rather embarrassed to have me tell anyone.”

  “Mr. Mannion!” Helena was appalled at his embellishment, and it gave him great satisfaction to have gained the upper hand.

  He merely shrugged at Mr. Gerret. “See how she is when I tell the story? Then, of course, being that she fell into the stream and I had to fetch her out, it was indeed a wretched beginning.”

  “Adam.” Helena tried again, more softly. Her voice held a pulse of tension that carried over her stiff smile. “I think you are going a bit far—”

  “Do you? Oh, I’m dreadfully sorry. Then I shouldn’t tell them about the bear routing you out of the bushes where you had gone to hide, while I was hanging your clothes up to dry for you?”

  “Adam!”

  “Mannion!” Lord Rathford roared. His glare would have put a stop to a demon.

  Adam only hiked his brows up innocently and sipped his sherry. “Oh, dear. I’ve always had a wretchedly big mouth. I suppose those particular circumstances should remain…private.” He gazed innocently at the Gerrets. “I can trust your discretion, can’t I?”

  Mrs. Gerret, who was wide-eyed and mute, nodded vigorously.

  “In any event, I was madly in love right then and there, and I followed her home.” His dancing eyes lit on a smoldering Helena. “She was rather reluctant to receive me at first, but Lord Rathford was kind enough to invite me inside and soon, as our acquaintance grew, Lady Helena and I knew we simply must be together forever.”

  There was a silence, then a loud sigh. Adam glanced over to see Mrs. Gerret’s hands clasped in front of her huge bosom. Mr. Gerret cleared his throat. “Well, that sounds like quite an adventure.”

  “Love, my dear vicar, is always an adventure.” With a flourish, Adam took up Helena’s gloved hand and brushed the knuckles with his lips.

  She snatched it back, flushing profusely. Her look was murderous.

  The footman came in to call them to dinner.

  “Tell me more about yourself, Mr. Mannion,” Mrs. Gerret purred, sidling up beside him as they proceeded into the dining room.

  “Gladly, Mrs. Gerret.”

  He resumed his tales, quite enjoying himself as his yarn took on fantastical proportions. As for the looks he was getting from Helena, he simply ignored them and addressed himself to the meal. Maddie had outdone herself in honor of their company, and he was more than pleased to reap the benefits.

  After dinner, the ladies went to retire. Helena was still glaring spikes at him, as she had been doing all during dinner, when she led Mrs. Gerret out of the room. Impishly, he lifted his wineglass as if in salute. Her blue eyes glinted like chips of ice, and then she whisked through the door and was gone.

  He felt a surprising and unanticipated rush of guilt. Not rude as a rule, he had felt compelled to it when she had walked through the parlor door and taken his breath away, as well as his composure. The sight of her, the effect of that deliberate beauty, had been like an attack. No…not precisely. Perhaps more of a challenge. The gauntlet thrown down.

  Lord Rathford immediately fell into a doze. Adam would have liked to conk the old bear on the head. Gerret was a bore and Adam was
tired of spinning outrageous tales just to keep from yawning himself silly.

  Then the spindly old man gave his host a surreptitious glance and leaned forward. “I say, the change in Lady Helena is remarkable. Love certainly does agree with her, eh? My goodness, she’s a different person. Almost back to what she was.”

  Of course, Adam thought, how stupid of him not to have realized that the vicar would have known her all her life. The man might be able to provide some clues to what the hell had happened to Helena.

  Elbows braced on the armrests, Adam peered at the curate over his laced fingers. “It was such a horrible thing, all that business.”

  The lead worked. The old vicar blanched and rushed to say, “Indeed it was. The poor girl. There was so much talk. It drove her to terrible solitude. But you seem to have cured all that, and in so short a time!”

  “Still,” Adam said, pulling the conversation back to the past, “it was a great deal to have gotten over. The talk still bothers her, you know. She doesn’t even know if they are saying the truth anymore or if the tale has gotten so completely out of hand that she’s now implicated in the Guy Fawkes Rebellion.”

  “Poor Helena. It was all cleared up, you know, and not a shred of any evidence to cast even the smallest doubts, but you can’t stop folks from wondering. It is true that a great deal of false rumor has circulated, but rest assured Mrs. Gerret and myself put it to rights whenever we hear of it.”

  “Yes. Yet sometimes those rumors can be so damaging, no matter that they are later proved false.”

  “Ah, well, it is in the past.”

  Damn the man. Without knowing it, he was being more evasive than if he had set his mind to it on purpose.

  In the silence of Adam’s uncertainty on how to proceed, the parson sighed and mused, “Seeing her tonight brings it all back. The parties, the balls. I remember when she was young. Ah, beauty like that can make you think you’re seeing angels, I tell you. We all loved her. Her mother, well…God rest her soul, she was a bit hard on her, but Helena always had that something, you know?”

  “Did she have many suitors? Helena is so modest, but I always tease her that she picked me after so many men throwing themselves at her feet.”

  “She could have, of course, but the only one allowed near her was the duke. Her mother was very particular, you see. She had the duke in mind from the first, I think. No, there was no one else for Helena, although not for lack of them trying. Althea saw to it she was kept from anyone else’s influence.”

  Adam was disturbed. “You make it sound like some sort of…prison or something.”

  “Or something. But we shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. Not that I’m criticizing, mind you. It’s just the way it was.”

  “So what happened at the cotillions or dinner parties? Wasn’t Helena allowed to speak to admirers?”

  “Goodness, no. You must understand how different Helena was from the woman you met in the woods. Helena was an ideal. She only spoke when spoken to, her accomplishments were astounding, her beauty and grace and perfect deportment were a heady combination. She had this quality, like she was above anyone else. She never was arrogant about it. We all recognized it. And, yes, she had many admirers, but they all kept their place.”

  “Which was quite a distance away.”

  “Exactly. I suppose her mother wasn’t taking any chances of an unplanned circumstance ruining her scheme.”

  “The duke. But the duke married Chloe…ah, the current duchess.”

  “Yes.” The vicar’s expression grew dark and he pressed his lips into a line, as if sealing them. “I think it’s time we joined the ladies, don’t you?”

  Adam didn’t. Adam wanted to know more, but he could hardly bully the man.

  Rising, he gave away none of the impatience that gnawed at his gut. “Of course. Should we wake Lord Rathford?”

  The vicar was alarmed. “Have you ever seen George Rathford when he first rouses?”

  And then it was Adam’s turn to listen to an incredible account of how Rathford once sent a man through a window when awakened from a nap, without ever knowing he was doing it. Adam frowned, considering this news about his father-in-law’s capacity for violence.

  Strange family.

  Chapter Eleven

  The Gerrets took their leave at half past ten. They were no sooner out of the house when Helena whirled on Adam.

  He held up his hands as if to ward her off. “I know, I know. You probably want to kill me.”

  Her thunderous expression exploded into something…like panic. She recovered, sputtering in a broken voice, “Kill you? Wh-why would you say a thing like that?”

  He certainly couldn’t blame her if she did. “I know I took some liberties to embellish matters—”

  “Some? You were outrageous, Adam. You utterly humiliated me. Your lies had me running naked through the woods within moments of meeting you.”

  It hit him immediately that she had called him by his given name. Why did that make him all warm inside?

  “For a good reason,” he corrected. “And think of all the delicious gossip that will come of it.”

  “That is exactly what I am thinking of!”

  “And if they are talking about your running about in a state of undress…” he paused as she flung up her arms and whirled about, unable to bear the mention of it “…then they are not supposing and surmising and casting their evil little minds about for the real reason we are being married.”

  She froze. Slowly, she turned to look at him, her face thoughtful.

  “Aha. You see how clever I am?”

  “You want me to believe you’ve lied so baldly…to protect me?”

  “Well, I didn’t think you’d want it put out that your father is forcing you into this, and that I had never laid eyes on you before I showed up on your doorstep.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “And maybe you don’t like people knowing you are marrying a total stranger for the benefit of money.”

  Tightly, he replied, “Maybe. We both have good reason to keep our private motivations just that—private. So the outrageous tale will keep them happily churning the gossip mill and they will have no need to look for anything further to say.”

  She smiled. “You could have told me what you planned.”

  “Planned? I didn’t plan it. It simply…came to me.”

  “How fortunate for me that you can be clever so spontaneously.”

  Adam took a step toward her. She was getting over her anger even though she didn’t want to. He was fairly good at reading her by now, and he knew when her jaw set just so that she was fighting a smile. “I have a great many talents, or haven’t you noticed?”

  “I really know very little about you,” she answered. Her eyes caught the candlelight, sparkling at him. He smiled and sidled closer to her.

  “For example,” she continued, “I very much doubt your parents took you to Africa where you were raised by an aborigine tribe after they were lost for two years in the jungle.”

  Grimacing, he said, “A bit too much?”

  “And the four year expedition to the Far East under the protection of the high rajah—whatever that is…I found that highly doubtful.”

  He held up his finger to stop her. “Every word of that was absolutely true.”

  Her lips twitched. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Well, it didn’t happen to me, exactly, but a fellow I once met in a tavern swore it happened to him.”

  “Um-hum.”

  He was close enough that he could smell the womanly scent coming off her. He liked it. It was mysterious, as she was. Somewhat exotic, somewhat sweet, somewhat…just fresh, clean. Female.

  “I like your dress.”

  She ducked her head.

  “And your hair. It’s nice.”

  Her lashes rose and she peered at him cannily. “I would be flattered if it weren’t so obvious you are changing the subject.”

  She was a clever girl. Her scent filled his head, making his br
ain feel sluggish.

  “We were discussing your past.” She paused. “Where did you really come from, Adam Mannion?”

  “London.”

  “Please.” She wasn’t sparring with him any longer. Her tone was serious. “I want to know. I think I deserve better than Zanzibar and wild Vikings carrying you off.”

  “But that is so much more exciting than the facts. Plain dull truth of it is my father was a tobacconist who had a fondness for horses—betting them, not riding them. He was a good man, but not a lucky one.”

  “You like horses, too. And you are no better at it than he.”

  “Not true. I am fond of cards and dice as well.”

  “Hardly commendable. Tell me about your mother.”

  “She left a long time ago. She took my sister. I haven’t seen them since they left. I think there was a man. After my father’s death, I found there had been a bill of divorcement granted. He had never spoken of it.”

  “Oh.” Helena felt at a loss. The mention of his mother had obviously touched something vulnerable inside of him. His entire manner had changed. Gone was his light, teasing tone and the way his dark, liquid eyes squinted when he was amused, showing the crinkles at their corners. He was a man who had a great capacity to enjoy life, and it was etched on his face. But now he was too serious, and she was sorry for having ruined the mood.

  She realized she had been having fun with him up until then.

  “I think I see why you invented the Vikings and the aborigines.”

  One corner of his mouth hiked up. “I didn’t even get to my story about being captured by Red Indians in the Americas.”

  “Well, we don’t want to give Mrs. Gerret too much to tell everyone. Save something for the next visit.”

  “I believe the vicar said the next time we’d be seeing them was at our wedding.”