A Dream of Redemption

by Bronwen Evans

  Their meeting was not going well. She needed to get him away from this study so they could talk freely—as simply a man and a woman.

  “You look tired. Perhaps some fresh air would help. Why don’t we take a stroll in the park and I can tell you about my proposal?”

  His smile dimmed. “You can tell me about it here.”

  This time she was not going to take no for an answer. She walked around his desk and grabbed his arm. “Come on. I’ll organize the carriage.”

  She watched him war with himself as she was warring with herself. He too knew that socially a friendship between them was inappropriate but neither of them had the strength to deny their attraction.

  “It will not do your reputation much good to be seen out walking with the likes of me.”

  She didn’t let go of his arm. “I don’t think society even knows who you are.” He didn’t have an answer for that. “You could be a family friend for all they know.”

  “Someone will want to know who I am if you are seen on my arm. I have just as much to lose should a scandal erupt.”

  She sighed loudly. “For goodness’ sake, it’s a walk—in public. I want to discuss my idea to hold a large luncheon to raise funds for the orphanage. Beatrice is helping me and we would love you to attend and talk to the ladies about the conditions of some of these places. Soon everyone will know what I am working on and never give it a thought that we are together.”

  “Why me? Why am I to talk?”

  Helen sighed. “Because women seem to listen to men more than they listen to other ladies. Besides, every woman I know will be watching you with undivided attention,” and she smiled.

  To her horror her flattery had the opposite effect. “So you want me to stand up and dazzle with my looks as if I am a treat for them to indulge.”

  She gazed at him and saw he was genuinely upset. “I know you don’t like using your looks, it is one of the things I admire about you. Growing up surrounded by powerful men who think nothing of seducing with their looks, your attitude is a breath of freshness. However, it does not hurt to ensure that the women we need to donate have your attention.”

  His mouth did not soften. “I will not stay for the luncheon. I shall simply talk and leave.”

  “Thank you. Now how about that walk so I can share my thoughts on expanding the Southwark Home for Orphaned Children.”

  Conscious that she was still holding his very muscular arm, Helen let it go and stepped back.

  “Some fresh air does sound desirous. I have been cooped up inside this last week and summer will be over soon. Perhaps Her Grace would like to join us and hear your plans too?”

  Damn. She could not argue with him without looking obvious, plus it would be more socially acceptable for Marisa to accompany them. “I shall go and ask her, and fetch my bonnet. Shall we meet in the foyer in a few minutes?”

  “Of course.”

  Helen left without another word.

  * * *

  —

  Damn. He was weak. He should have said no, but the urge to walk in the sun with her overrode all common sense. He didn’t even care if society deemed it inappropriate. And he should.

  He folded Claire’s letter and put it in the drawer. His hand stayed on the handle. Normally he would have read the letter and thrown it in the fire. To keep Claire’s correspondence was a sign he’d changed. He was allowing himself to care.

  He was not fooling himself any longer. He wanted reasons that would allow him to spend time with Helen.

  Helen. She wasn’t even Lady Helen in his mind anymore.

  Unusually for a beautiful woman Helen listened to those around her. Most beautiful people learned they never really had to listen at all. But not Helen. When she spoke with you it was as if you were the only person in the world who was important to her.

  He made his way along the corridor and knocked on Her Grace’s door. When she called “come in” he took a deep breath and walked in. Just as he thought, she was alone. Helen was off fetching her bonnet or some such thing.

  Marisa greeted him with a warm smile. He wondered if she’d still be smiling if she knew how he felt about her sister.

  “I told Helen that I can’t join you on your walk but I will discuss the luncheon with you both tomorrow.”

  He nodded. “May I ask what you told Lady Helen about my background.”

  Her smile dimmed. “Nothing actually. If she asked I would tell her to ask you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Is there a problem I should know about?”

  “Nothing that I cannot deal with.”

  She looked at him and her eyes narrowed. “I love my sister and if there is something that may affect her in any way I would want to know about it.”

  He bowed to her. “Of course, Your Grace. It’s just I need to know how to handle telling her about my background. Lady Helen is a curious young lady, and she has been asking questions. I am worried about what details I should or should not share.”

  Her Grace nodded thoughtfully. “Why is it you feel you have to be truthful with my sister of all people?”

  Damn. He’d forgotten how perceptive Her Grace was.

  What was he supposed to say? Because I have feelings for her. Because I ache whenever she’s near. “Because she’s one person I don’t wish to lie to,” came out of his mouth instead.

  “I can respect that.” He could see her thinking. “My sister told me only last month that she has given up looking for a husband. She wants fate to decide for her as fate decided for me. She has a romantic notion of fate. We both know that fate is not always romantic. Just be careful.”

  His mouth dropped open. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Marisa stood and moved to the window and looked down as the carriage pulled up outside. “I love my sister and want her to be happy. You are a good man, Clary; you just have to believe it too.” She sighed and turned to face him. “Others will not think as I do, especially if your background comes to light. In fact, I can tell you that my brother will be adamantly against her marrying anyone who is not titled, but that’s because he is overprotective of her and does not know you like I do.” She moved and took both of his hands in hers. “But you are right. There can be nothing between Helen and you if you do not tell her everything there is about you.”

  “You think knowing the truth will change her view of me?”

  She shook her head and let go of his hands. “Oh, no. I think it will only lift her esteem of you. You have overcome and survived. She will admire that, as I do.”

  He blinked the moisture out of his eyes. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Just say you will do nothing to hurt her.”

  His mouth firmed. He wanted to say that he’d never do anything to hurt her but a relationship with him would socially destroy her. He merely nodded. He had so much thinking to do.

  Once, he’d thought a relationship with the likes of Lady Helen was a dream. Now Her Grace was suggesting it could be a possibility.

  Marisa looked out the window. “It never pays to keep a lady waiting.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace.” He made his way to the door.

  “I do think it’s time you called me Marisa.”

  He stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder. “Thank you, Marisa,” and he almost glided on air out of her study.

  * * *

  —

  During the ride to the park he tried to process Marisa’s blessing. His brain was whirling with possibilities and hope, and for once he let himself drink in the beautiful woman beside him. The sight of her fair curls popping out from under her cute but ugly bonnet, her supple figure and soft curves called to him but he would behave like the gentleman she thought he was.

  Emotions crashed over and through him, making him want to gnash his teeth. Was he being foolish in his desire for her? He would never dishonor her by taking her innocence without matrimony. What did she really want from him—sex or matrimony?

  Was he j
ust a big adventure to her? His euphoria dampened. No. She was not like other women he knew. She wasn’t after just sex. The rub was he couldn’t decide which. How could she even know what it was she wanted?

  He didn’t want to diminish this feeling by having to disclose his past but Marisa was right, if they were to try and see if there could be more between them he had to be honest.

  “You haven’t heard anything I’ve been saying have you?”

  He smiled down at her piqued face. “No. I have simply been drinking in your beauty.” He saw the frown cross Mary’s face. The lady’s maid was along as chaperone.

  Helen was flustered for but a moment and then she beamed a smile. “It would seem our outing agrees with you.”

  She was still beaming when he helped her from the carriage. The sun was warm on his face, and he was determined to enjoy the escape from his study. He would discuss his upbringing later. Not today. He wanted this one perfect day with her on his arm.

  They started their walk with Mary following a few steps behind to afford her mistress some privacy.

  “Now, tell me about this clever plan of yours to buy the building next door to the orphanage.”

  She smiled gloriously at him, and his heart flipped and broke free of the chains he’d kept it in.

  “I don’t even know if it is for sale but I’m sure we can get our solicitor to find out who owns it and make an appropriate offer.”

  Her excitement was infectious. He laughed. “I can get Simon, my brother, to look into that. He’s working as a clerk in a solicitor’s office. It will be a good test for him.”

  “And if you don’t want to do the luncheon I’ll understand.”

  His heart swelled even more. “If it raises more coin for the orphanage I will do my part. Your idea is sound.”

  “Thank you. If we could buy the property next door it has several stables at the back. We could train some of the boys to be grooms.”

  He was so proud of her. She really had put some thought into not just housing the orphans, but how to really ensure they could make a living—an honest living.

  They were nearing the pond when just ahead of them on the path he spied a group approaching them. Fashionably dressed ladies and gentlemen moved closer, and his blood ran cold. He recognized someone he hoped he’d never see again. The idea of being able to sneak into her world died. “Shall we take this path?” and he tried to direct her the other way.

  “I’d love to go by the pond,” and she marched on and he had to follow. “Oh, of all the people for her to be walking with,” Helen said, and she looked annoyed.

  “Hello, Lady Helen Hawkestone.” A woman was waving at her.

  Helen waited until they drew closer, and Clary’s stomach dropped. Lord Fairfax was in the group. Fairfax had been a regular at the brothel he’d worked in and Clary had been his favorite toy.

  “Lady Angela, how lovely to see you.” Angela ignored her greeting and stood looking at Clary.

  “My, my,” Angela said, placing a kiss on Helen’s cheek. “Where have you been hiding such a fine gentleman?”

  He watched Fairfax’s eyes narrow and his nostrils flare.

  “May I introduce Mr. Homeward, the Duchess of Lyttleton’s private secretary.”

  Lady Angela held out her hand and he bowed over it. “A pleasure to meet you, my lady.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” she said silkily. Clary almost smiled at the flash of jealousy on Helen’s face as she turned her friend away from him.

  There were two other gentlemen that Clary did not know and two young ladies, followed by their chaperones. He did not recognize any of the other men with Fairfax, but Fairfax was staring at him as if he had two heads.

  The women walked off toward the pond, Mary following her mistress. Leaving Clary facing Fairfax and his male friends.

  “Go and catch up with Lady Angela, I want a private word with Mr. Homeward,” Fairfax uttered to the other gents.

  Once the others were out of earshot, Fairfax hissed, “What the blazes are you playing at? How dare you walk in the park with a lady.”

  “Good afternoon, Lord Fairfax. If you excuse me I should catch up to her ladyship. Your behavior is being noted, and I don’t think you’d want me explaining how we met.”

  With that threat hanging in the air Clary made to walk around Fairfax but the lord grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “You mention one word about me and that club and I’ll see you’re put back in the gutter where you belong.”

  He wanted to shake off Fairfax’s hand, the feel of it on his person made him sick, but he noted Helen and Angela’s group was staring at them. “Let go of me, you are drawing attention to yourself.”

  Fairfax looked over at his friends and quickly let go of his arm. “This is not over. I don’t know who you are pretending to be, but I’ll see you run out of town.”

  Clary stood up proud and tall. He looked down his nose at Fairfax. “I work for the Duchess of Lyttleton and any scandal about me will impact on Her Grace and I won’t allow that. If I hear you are telling tales I shall ensure every mother in the ton understands your particular hedonistic tastes. You’ll be shunned, or worse, but without proof probably only shunned. Something you’ll care more about than I would. I have no reason, or wish, to enter Society nor any reputation to uphold.”

  He glared at Fairfax whose face became very pale. “You would not dare.”

  “Try me,” and Clary tipped his hat at Fairfax and made to move round him. Just as he was about to take a step Fairfax stuck his walking stick out and sent Clary headfirst onto the path. He wasn’t quick enough to put his arms out and so he rolled and let his body take the full impact. He landed on his injured side and pain raged through his body mixed with the anger and a driving need to pummel Fairfax into the dirt. Of course he couldn’t do that. Attacking a peer would carry a sentence of transportation. Probably what Fairfax wanted.

  Then he heard the sound of dainty running feet and a feminine cry of outrage. “You did that on purpose, you swine.” He looked up from the ground to see Helen hit Fairfax with her reticule.

  One of the other gentlemen arrived and helped him to his feet. “I’m sure his lordship did nothing of the sort, my lady.”

  “But he did. I saw it.” Her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned in anger. “Is this because of the way I berated you for your antics at the ball the other night? I see nothing in this behavior to change my mind about you. Apologize at once.”

  Fairfax’s face went red either from embarrassment or from anger at being publicly chastised, but with no option he turned to Clary and said, “Apologies. My stick must have got tangled in your legs.”

  Before Clary could say anything Helen touched his side below his jacket. “Oh, you are bleeding. Your st—” She stopped herself just in time. How could she know he had stitches? “You must have hit a stone,” she said instead.

  He wanted to wince from the pain in his side but he managed to keep his face blank. “Apology accepted, my lord. Lady Helen, it appears I have ripped my jacket and I believe I should excuse myself once I have seen you home.”

  “I can see her home,” Lord Fairfax insisted.

  “No.” Helen’s answer was emphatic, and those around them gasped at the slight. He briefly closed his eyes against the mistake she’d just made. This meeting would now be talked about in all the clubs and ballrooms. Neither of them needed, or wanted, to be the subject of gossip.

  Lady Angela looked worriedly about the group, and she placed a hand on Helen’s arm. “You must be overwrought from the sight of blood but I’m sure Mr. Homeward is perfectly capable of seeing himself home,” and she flashed a warning smile his way.

  “Her ladyship is quite correct, I live but a short stroll away.” But as he turned to leave, he stupidly winced and Helen caught it.

  She ignored Lady Angela’s silent plea. “You are in pain. My carriage is just by the grass verge. Come, Mary; we shall see you dropped at your lodgings.”

  Unless he w
anted to shake her arm free of his elbow, he had to let her lead him to her carriage. Once they were seated inside he scolded, “That was badly done. Lord Fairfax is a powerful enemy and you made a scene that will no doubt soon make the social rounds.”

  “He’s an arse.”

  He wanted to smile at her words. Most women did not see past Lord Fairfax’s golden hair and angelic face. But then he was learning that Helen saw more than the outer shell of everyone. She was most perceptive.

  “How badly hurt are you? Do I need to send for Blake?”

  He shrugged. “I won’t know until I get home and take the bandages off. It may be the stitches have come out, or simply the scabs have opened again.”

  She shook her head. “There is too much blood for it to not be the stitches. Shall I stop at the house and send word to Blake?”

  “I’ll wait and see the damage when I get home,” he said firmly.

  It took them only a few minutes to reach his accommodations. He dismounted and turned to bid her farewell when she was there on the street next to him. “What on earth do you think you are doing? You cannot come in.”

  “He’s right, my lady.” Mary leaned out and looked up and down the street. “Please get back in the carriage.”

  “I’m coming in to check your stitches. Stop fussing; you’ll draw attention to us.” With her bonnet firmly on her head she was incognito but the carriage had the Marquis of Coldhurst’s emblem blazing on the side.

  “Get back in the carriage,” he barked at her sending a pleading look at Mary.

  “The longer we stand here arguing the worse it will be.”

  He looked up the street and quickly took her hand. “Move the carriage round the corner please,” he told the driver before leading her down the stairs of the fashionable townhouse.

  “I shall come with you,” Mary said.

  “No.” Helen quickly asserted. “We won’t be long, Mary.”

  Clary sent Mary a pleading look to say stop this nonsense, but he noticed a look pass between Mary and Helen and for some reason Mary did not argue the point. A shiver ran down his spine. This could not be good.