It was late afternoon, still an acceptable time of day for a young lady to visit a friend. If she took the back stairs and left the house from the servants’ hall, no one would think anything of it. Busy servants certainly wouldn’t inquire as to where she was going and if she had permission to go.
Helena had only been past Lady Foxley-Graham’s house, and in a carriage, but she was certain she knew where it was and how to get there. She knocked on the wrong door at first, and was directed to the right one.
Lady Foxley-Graham was certainly very surprised to see her.
“Miss Phillips, this is quite unexpected.”
But Helena was tired of formalities and let loose with a deluge of emotions. Lavinia, as she requested to be called, listened to her every word, consoling her.
“Lavinia, why would my father forbid us to be together?” she asked through sniffles and tears.
“He’s worried for your safety, I suppose,” she replied, stroking Helena’s hair as her mother would. “He must have been shocked to hear of Nicholas’ past. Your father cares for you very much.”
“But Nicholas is nothing like his family! He’s sweet and kind and ever such a gentleman.”
“You must prove that to your father.”
“How can I?”
“We’ll think of something, dear.”
Lavinia told her butler to cancel all her engagements for that evening, that she was to be undisturbed “by anyone”.
Helena giggled. “You’re expecting him tonight, aren’t you?”
Lavinia blushed. “Helena—”
“I don’t mind. It makes him ever so much more appealing having a longtime special friend like you. That’s a point in his favor, don’t you think?”
Lavinia laughed. “Well, I don’t think your father wants to know that Nicky has a mistress. We’ll keep that part out.”
Nicky. It was so personal, so intimate.
“Lavinia, tell me everything about him. Please.”
For the rest of the evening, Helena was enthralled with stories about Nicholas Ramsay.
* * * * *
Morning light streamed into the library as Helena searched Lavinia’s collection for something diverting. Lavinia had decided Helena should avail herself of her books while “this whole horrible business” was being settled. She had said she would send word later that morning to Mama and Papa about her whereabouts.
“Helena, I think I’ve found the novels,” Lavinia called from the other side of the room. “Ah, yes, here they are.”
Lavinia held out a volume of Jane Austen.
“Persuasion. Ironic, isn’t it?” Helena took the book and settled on the window seat.
The door to the library crashed open.
“Vinny, what do you mean by canceling last night! I’ve been in a complete funk. I needed you—”
It was Nicholas. He stopped the moment their eyes met.
“Helena,” he greeted her with strained emotion. “Lavinia, I apologize, I had no idea you had company.”
Lavinia went to him, caressing his shoulders tenderly. “Darling, Helena has run away from home.” She took his hands in hers and led him to the window seat. “She came here, of all places. Her parents do not know where she is yet.”
Helena knew she should feel a pang of envy but she did not. It was exciting to see Nicholas and his lover acting so comfortably familiar with each other.
Nicholas looked at her with concern. “Helena, is this true?”
“Nicholas, my father was beastly to you. And to me as well.” She looked up at him. “You came to ask for my hand and I want to marry you. Why does he want to keep us apart?”
Nicholas perched on the edge of the window seat. “I completely understand his motives. He’s trying to protect you from a wretched life, which, I am sure, far too many wives must endure.”
There was a tap on the door before the butler, Mr. Sims, entered. He shot Nicholas a withering look as he handed Lavinia a calling card on his silver tray.
“Oh! It appears I have a visitor. I must excuse myself.” Lavinia gave both Helena and Nicholas the once-over. “You two behave yourselves. I will only be downstairs. Wait here and I will return.”
When she left, Helena giggled.
“Why so amused?”
“I think Lavinia is afraid I will ravish you in the library.”
Nicholas flushed crimson. He sat back on the seat and gazed at her. “You should behave yourself, young lady. For both our sakes. You’ve done a very bad thing and your parents will think I’m to blame.”
Helena pouted. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I was just so upset.” She reached for his hand and almost fainted from joy when their fingers touched, interlacing. “But my father was so unreasonable.”
Nicholas exhaled and leaned against the side of the niche. “I think part of it is that I wasn’t completely honest with you about my past, but really I had no need to be. I was never going to be considered a potential suitor for you. I was only a doctor.” There was a twinkle in his eye. “Then everything happened so fast and I wanted you to be mine as soon as possible. It was really my mistake for thinking I could suddenly ask for your hand without a proper courtship.” He toyed with her fingers still touching his. “I suppose I was emboldened by my love for you.”
Helena’s heart skipped a beat. “You love me?”
He grinned. “I love you, Helena. I really do.”
It tormented her that they had to comport themselves properly even in the absence of others. “I love you too, Nicky.”
He chuckled.
“What is it?”
“You called me ‘Nicky’. Only Lavinia and my family ever call me that.”
“Well,” she began honestly, “I would like to be considered as such an intimate one day.” She tugged at his fingers. “Nicky, tell me about your family.”
He told his story, some of it the same as what Lavinia had told her the previous night, but more revealing of his own deeply held feelings surrounding all the events of his past. She listened intently as he confessed the violence of his family history to her, watched the emotion twisting on his face, wanting so much to comfort him as the memories were still so painful and wishing she could have been there for him—which, she realized, was nonsense as she would have been only a child. When he was finished, he looked exhausted and yet somehow relieved that it was all out of him.
There was one thing he hadn’t told her, something she knew was so very important to him and dear to his heart. “What was your mother like?”
His face brightened. “She was beautiful, not just because she was a lovely woman, but because she was also such a gentle, kind person.” He looked around the library. “She liked novels quite a bit but sometimes I think it was because stories helped her escape from the truth of her own life.” He noticed the Jane Austen in Helena’s hand. “She liked Persuasion, it was her favorite. It’s a tale of fearing one has made an incredibly bad decision in life, only to find there is still hope.”
Out of frustration from wanting to wrap her arms around him and kiss him, Helena played with his fingers, pulling and tugging. Nicholas stilled her hand.
“Did I forget anything?”
A wicked notion took hold of her. “I want to know about your first time.”
“My first time?” He raised his brow in astonishment. “You mean with a woman?”
“Yes.”
“I really don’t think I should tell you.”
“I want to know.” She lowered her voice. “If I am to give you my first time, I want to know about yours.”
“All right,” he agreed. “It was the summer before I went to university. There had been quite a drunken row between my father and myself, so I left on horseback. I really had no idea where I was going, I just rode on for hours.” His palm caressed the top of her hand. “Eventually my poor horse started to complain. I stopped at a tavern and had some supper. There was a serving girl there who struck my fancy and, I suppose, I struck hers. She was ol
der than I, not by much, but certainly more experienced. I decided to stay there for the night and she came to my room and didn’t leave until morning.”
Helena was mesmerized. “Was it nice?’
“It was nothing and yet everything like I had imagined. Yes,” he chuckled, “it was quite nice.”
“Did you think yourself in love with her?”
“Maybe at one point I wondered if I could love her but it just seemed like such a natural thing to do that one didn’t really need love to perform the physical act.”
Helena looked up at him. “Nicholas, I’ll run away with you.”
He stood up, dropping her hand. “Oh no, you will not! I’m not running away any more.” He paced nervously, then noticed something on Lavinia’s library desk. He picked it up and brought it to her. “I had a present for you yesterday. I came to Lavinia’s straight away after seeing your father, but she chastised me for visiting my lover so soon after proposing marriage. I guess I left it here.”
Helena took the small package from him.
“Open it.”
She pulled away the wrapping to reveal a small leather volume. She touched the smooth binding, then gently turned the gilded pages. “Nicholas, this is wonderful! Will you tell me all about it?”
* * * * *
Lavinia had to prepare herself for the guest waiting for her in the morning room. She drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders before opening the door.
Mr. Phillips had not bothered to sit. When she entered, he stood glaring at her.
“Where is my daughter? I’ve just been to Charlotte’s and she said Helena might be here.”
Obviously there were to be no pleasantries. “She is, Mr. Phillips.”
“I want to see her. Now.” His voice was steady but perhaps overly controlled.
“No. Not until you explain yourself.”
“Explain myself? Who the hell do you think you are?” The control cracked just a little.
“Whoever I am, Helena came to me for refuge, for understanding, for safety.” Lavinia was surprised at how incensed she was becoming.
“You are this man’s lover, are you not?”
“Nicholas? Yes. I won’t deny that and neither will he. It is my understanding you have such arrangements in America as well.”
Mr. Phillips grunted at that. “Why should I let him marry my daughter?”
“Besides the fact that they are in love with each other?”
“What is love to an eighteen-year-old girl?”
“I could ask you that very same question, Mr. Phillips. I believe Sophia was the same age as Helena when she fell in love with you.”
“That was different!”
“How so?”
He stood and paced. “Okay. You got me. But it was different. I’m different. I mean from that young man. He’s from a violent family. A family that uses guns to solve their problems. I have seen what that can do to people. I will not have my daughter involved with that.”
Lavinia sat on the couch. “Mr. Phillips, I understand completely how you feel. I too despise violence. It is a form of cowardice, really, if you ask me. Nicholas hated being in such an environment so much so, he gave up his inheritance and forsook his family. He even went so far as to change his name, his identity.”
“Changing one’s name does not alter one’s inherent nature. If he’s from a violent family, he will have violence in him.”
“Nicholas ran far away from the violence, and not just with distance. He became a doctor so he could help people, heal people. Look, I’ve known him since he was a child. He’s never been like his father or his brother. Perhaps more like his mother, but really quite different from the rest of the family. He’s always had a keen interest in how things work, in science. Such curiosity lends itself to creation, not destruction.”
A glimmer in Mr. Phillips’ eye indicated he was coming around, ever so slightly. Still, he would not give in. “How is it that you know him?”
“I knew his mother, Louisa, for years. We were very close. She was like an older sister to me. When the earl and Louisa came to town, we two girls were quite inseparable. She used to stay here with my husband and me sometimes, despite the fact that at that time there was still a London property owned by the family. Unfortunately, when she was at the estate with the earl and Jack, there was no one there to protect her. I knew all of this was going on and I counseled her she should seek divorce.”
Mr. Phillips’ shock at the notion was unexpected.
“But her devotion to her family meant she would never do such a thing even if it meant enduring physical and emotional pain. Mr. Phillips, you should know she adored Nicholas, and he her. It hurt him terribly to leave her, he even asked that she go with him, but she would not leave her husband. He took her maiden name of Ramsay after she died.” Painful memories swelled inside her. She drew in a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut against the tears.
He sat down on the couch next to her, elbows on his knees, his hands flailing, as if at a loss what to do. “Helena is my life. You must understand this.”
“I do, truly, I very much understand. As Nicholas’ wife she will be his life. He will adore her and protect her and keep her happy. Trust me. He is a wonderful companion.” Lavinia steadied her breathing to further calm her emotions, enabling her to see more clearly an unexpected aspect of a father’s apprehension. “And in case you are concerned about her physical satisfaction, he is a wonderful lover as well.”
Mr. Phillips blushed. “I don’t think I need to know that, Lady Foxley-Graham.”
“Oh yes, you do. It is important to you and Sophia, I know.” She squeezed his hand. “Shall we go see them?”
“Them?” He looked at her hopefully.
“Nicholas is here. They are in the library together.”
Mr. Phillips seemed somehow cheered by the notion. “Yes, yes. I think I would like that.”
* * * * *
Nicholas grabbed another volume from the shelves and put it on the pile next to Helena on the window seat. “That one too.”
“Oh Nicky, this is going to be so much fun.” Helena clapped her hands in excitement.
Mr. Phillips cleared his throat.
Engrossed in the task at hand, and with Helena, Nicholas had not heard Lavinia and Mr. Phillips enter the library. Alarm coursed through him. He glanced at Lavinia, who simply raised a brow and smirked.
“Papa!” Helena exclaimed with a twinge of fear in her voice.
Mr. Phillips’ face lit up as he approached his daughter. “I’m relieved that you are safe, sweet. Your mother and I have worried so.” He held out his arms.
Helena gave him a quick hug. “I am safe, Papa.”
“It appears that you are.” He studied her. “It appears you are also very happy.”
Helena blushed. “I am very happy when I am with Nicholas, Papa.”
“I see.”
It was clear that Mr. Phillips did not want to give in too readily.
“Look, Papa. He gave me a present.”
Helena held out the book he had given her. Her father turned the small leather-bound volume over in his hands before opening it to the title page. He proceeded to review it, turning the pages carefully. He looked at his daughter, then at Nicholas.
“It’s Pliny’s Naturalis Historia, sir,” Nicholas offered.
“Goodness. Does Helena read Latin?”
Nicholas quashed a grin. “A little, it appears. I’m happy to help her learn more, sir, as you can see.” He pointed to the stack of books, which were mostly Latin grammars and dictionaries.
“Yes, I see.” Mr. Phillips seemed a bit overwhelmed. “Helena, I would like to have a private word with the earl.”
Nicholas wasn’t sure if he should be worried or hopeful.
“Helena,” Lavinia said gently. “Let’s go to the garden, shall we? I’ve some lovely flowers.”
Helena glanced at Nicholas, who nodded. Still, she hesitated. It was obvious she did not want to
leave him alone with her father.
Nicholas took her hands in his. “Helena, I’ll be down shortly. Go with Lavinia. She has her very own rose named for her.” His voice was calm, concealing the anxiety that tore through him. He watched as the two women left, then stared down at his feet as he shifted uncomfortably.
“May I call you Nicholas?”
It was the most disarming thing Mr. Phillips could have said. “Yes.” Nicholas met his eyes, now slightly less afraid to look at the man. “I’ve never used a title. I fear it will take some getting used to being called ‘my lord’ and such.”
“What will Helena be called if she marries you?”
“She would be the Countess of St. Albans or Lady St. Albans.” Nicholas did not want to appear too enthusiastic about the prospect, but his voice betrayed him.
Mr. Phillips chuckled. “That’s a mouthful.”
“Yes, sir.” Nicholas hardly knew what to say in response.
“I expect it will please Sophia, though. Did you know she was once Lady Sophia Harwell? The daughter of a marquess, no less. She could still be called the Lady Sophia Phillips, but I thought all that was balderdash. We fought a revolution so we could be rid of your aristocratic nonsense.” Mr. Phillips sat on the window seat and peered down at the garden. “It looks as if I’ve been beaten in this war, though.”
Nicholas hoped he had heard correctly. “Sir?”
Mr. Phillips smiled at him. “Do you have a ring, son?”
His heart jumped. “Yes, sir. In my pocket.” Nicholas brought out the delicate gold band set with the greenest of emeralds flanked by two tiny diamonds.
“That is beautiful,” Mr. Phillips said with genuine awe. He quickly looked at Nicholas. “You didn’t have this made for her, did you?”
“No, sir. It was my mother’s. Lavinia had been safekeeping it and my mother’s wedding ring since her death.”
“It will look stunning on Helena’s hand.”
“Sir?” Nicholas decided to not bother covering up his jubilance. “Do you mean, sir—”
“Yes, yes, you have my permission to marry my daughter.”
ThePleasureDevice Page 22
