An Innocent Debutante in Hanover Square

by Anne Herries

  Helene held the shimmering white material to herself, glancing in the mirror. She felt that white was a little in sipid for her, but hardly liked to protest. However, Emily shook her head.

  ‘I cannot agree, madame,’ she said. ‘I believe Helene would look better in colours—that pale blue and the yellow…and perhaps that very pale pink with a deeper cerise trim.’

  The seamstress pulled a face. ‘Very pretty, but the petite is so young…’

  ‘I think I agree with Emily,’ Amelia said as Emily draped the yellow and blue materials against Helene. ‘White is necessary if you are presented, Helene, my dear, but I am not sure that your mama wishes for a court presentation.’

  ‘I think that might be better left for the future,’ Mrs Henderson said and looked thoughtful. ‘I was never presented at court even after my marriage. I doubt that Helene will be, either.’

  ‘Oh, no, Mama, I am sure it is not necessary,’ Helene assured her. Since she had no intention of marrying into the aristocracy, it would be a waste of money to invest in such elaborate gowns.

  ‘Well, we shall see what happens,’ Amelia said. ‘We can always order a court gown if it seems likely that someone will offer to present you, Helene.’

  ‘I am sure they will not,’ Helene said. ‘I am quite content with the gowns I already have, thank you.’

  ‘How many have you ordered?’ Amelia inquired of the seamstress and shook her head as she was told. ‘That is not enough. I think you should have an evening gown made of this straw satin as well—and I think a ballgown in this beautiful peach silk, Helene. Hold it against you and look in the mirror. It is perfect for you, my dear.’

  Not content with that, Amelia ordered two further morning gowns, two afternoon gowns and a riding habit in dark blue velvet. Helene felt overwhelmed—she had never owned so many gowns. She was relieved to see that Emily was also pressed to order more gowns.

  ‘Well, I think that will do for now,’ Amelia said. ‘When can you deliver the first gowns, Madame Dubois? The very first should be the peach gown for Miss Henderson, please. Emily and I may wait a few days.’

  The seamstress promised to have several gowns delivered by the end of the week, and the peach gown in two days.

  ‘That is perfect,’ Amelia said after she had gone. ‘We have been invited to a prestigious dance that evening. Helene will need her new gown. We shall have to shop for some spangles tomorrow. A pretty stole and some dancing shoes to complement your gown, my dear. You might like to take Helene shopping, Emily? You know all the best shops and can show her what is usually worn at these affairs.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Emily said. ‘Would you care to accompany us, Mrs Henderson?’

  ‘As it happens, I have agreed to accompany Amelia somewhere,’ Mrs Henderson said. ‘You two go and enjoy yourselves.’

  ‘I had planned to visit the lending library this afternoon,’ Emily said and looked at Helene. ‘Would you like to come?’

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ Helene agreed. ‘Unless Amelia needs me for anything?’

  ‘No, I do not think so,’ Amelia said. ‘I am at home this afternoon. You must not stay out too long, for I am sure we shall have several callers and they will want to meet Helene.’

  ‘It will take no more than an hour,’ Emily assured her. ‘A walk to the library and back will be quite uneventful. We shall be back in plenty of time for tea.’

  ‘Then do go, my love,’ Amelia said. ‘It will be pleasant for Helene to see something of the town, and you may meet with some friends.’

  ‘You may bring a book for me, Helene,’ her mama told her. ‘It is so nice to have the opportunity of borrowing new books. Edgar had very little of interest in his library at home.’

  ‘Emily—look!’ Helene grabbed hold of her arm as they were returning from the library. ‘Do you see that man over there? He is beating that poor donkey with a stick. Oh, how wicked! It is obvious the creature is exhausted and can go no further…’

  Helene had been holding Emily’s arm, but she broke away from her and ran across the road to where a man dressed in filthy rags was trying to force a donkey to continue pulling the heavy wagon. The wagon was piled high with all kinds of rags, discarded furniture and metal pots. The donkey was scarcely more than skin and bone and exhausted. Its owner had lifted his arm to beat the unfortunate beast once more when a whirling fury grabbed hold of him, holding on to his arm and preventing him from carrying out his intention.

  ‘You wicked, wicked man!’ Helene cried. ‘Can’t you see the poor creature is exhausted? If you force it to go on, you will kill it…’

  The man tried to throw her off, but Helene held on, struggling to catch hold of the stick and wrench it from his grasp. She was determined not to let go even though he was much stronger than she and obviously possessed of a nasty temper.

  ‘Damn you, wench,’ the man snarled. ‘Leave me be or it will be the worse for you!’ He managed to pull his arm free of her grasp and raised it again, intending, it seemed, to beat her instead of the donkey.

  ‘No, you don’t, sirrah!’ a man’s deep voice cried and the bully’s arm was caught, this time in a grip of steel. The vagabond growled and tried to free himself, but ended with his arm up against his back, his chest pressed against the side of the wagon. ‘If you do not want your arm broken, stop struggling.’

  ‘Let me be,’ the vagabond whined. ‘She attacked me, sir. I were only defending meself.’

  ‘Be quiet, rogue, or I’ll break your neck,’ the man commanded. His eyes moved to Helene. ‘Would you like to tell me what happened here, miss?’

  ‘He was beating that poor creature,’ Helene said. ‘You can see for yourself that it is half-starved—and that load is far too heavy. The poor beast is too exhausted to pull the cart another inch.’

  ‘Did you attack him?’ The man arched his brows.

  ‘I tried to stop him beating the donkey.’ Helene lifted her head proudly, refusing to be ashamed of her action.

  ‘I see…’ Max released the vagabond, turned him round and glared down at him. The vagabond opened his mouth, then shut it again. The newcomer was a gentleman and a rather large one, his expression threatening. ‘What have you to say for yourself, rogue?’

  ‘The stupid beast is useless. It is lazy and a worthless bag of bones. I have to beat it or it will not move.’

  ‘It might work better if you fed it occasionally,’ Lord Maximus Coleridge said wryly. ‘Here, take this in exchange for the animal and be off with you before I call the watch!’ He thrust a handful of gold coins at his victim. The vagabond stared at the money in astonishment, bit one of the coins to make sure it really was gold and then took off as fast as he could before the mad gentleman could change his mind.

  ‘That was too much. One of those coins must have been sufficient,’ Helene protested as the large gentleman began to undo the donkey’s harness, freeing it from its burden. She patted the donkey’s nose. ‘The poor thing. It must have had a terrible life.’

  ‘Yes, I dare say,’ Max said and frowned. He arched his eyebrows in enquiry. ‘What do you propose we should do with it now?’

  ‘Oh…’ Helene stared at him. ‘I am not sure, sir. The poor creature needs a good home and something to eat. It looks quite starved.’

  ‘I wonder if it would not be kinder to put a ball through its head and end its misery.’

  ‘No! You must not,’ Helene cried and then blushed as his dark grey eyes centred on her face. She thought him an extremely attractive man, large and powerful, and, it seemed, exactly the kind of man one could rely on in an emergency. ‘I mean…could you not have it taken to a stable? At least give this unfortunate beast a chance to recover…please?’

  ‘Helene…’ Emily had waited for her chance to cross the road. ‘Are you all right, my dear? I would have come sooner, but there was a press of carriages.’

  ‘Because we are blocking the road,’ Max said wryly. ‘Good afternoon, Miss Barton. I did not know that you were in town. I trust
you are well—and Miss Royston?’

  ‘Lord Coleridge,’ Emily said and dipped in a slight curtsy. ‘We are both well. May I introduce Miss Henderson? Helene—Lord Coleridge. Helene and her mama are staying with us this Season, sir.’

  ‘My compliments to Miss Royston. I shall call,’ Max Coleridge said and turned his gaze back to Helene. ‘So, Miss Henderson—what do you suggest?’ He saw the pleading in her eyes. ‘I hope you are not suggesting that this flea-ridden beast should rub shoulders with my cattle…’

  ‘Could you not find a small corner for him in your stables, sir?’

  ‘Oh, no.’ Max shook his head. He turned his head and signalled to someone. A youth of perhaps fourteen years came running. ‘Jemmy, this lady wants us to take care of this donkey—what do you suggest we do with him?’

  ‘Sell ’im to the knacker’s yard, sir?’ the youth said and grinned.

  ‘Much as I think you may be right, I find myself unable to agree,’ Max replied, a twinkle in his eye. ‘I think you should take charge of him, Jemmy. I dare say we could find a corner for him somewhere.’

  ‘That bag of bones? You’re bamming me, milord,’ Jemmy said, staring at him in horror. ‘We’ll be the laughing stock of the ton, sir.’

  ‘I dare say,’ Max replied. ‘However, I do not intend to drive the wretched beast. Once it has recovered—if it recovers—we may find a better home. I shall make inquiries.’

  ‘You want me to get that thing ’ome?’ Jemmy was clearly horrified. ‘I dunno as it will move, sir.’

  ‘Do your best, Jemmy. I fear we are holding up the traffic.’ Max gave Helene a direct look. ‘I believe we should move out of the road—do you not think so?’

  ‘But the donkey…’ Helene moved on to the path, joining Emily and Lord Coleridge. Jemmy was trying to get the donkey to move without success. ‘I think you need a bribe.’ She saw a barrow boy selling vegetables and darted back across the road to buy a carrot from him. It was rather wrinkled and past its best, but she thought the donkey would be hungry enough to be tempted. She paused for a moment and then dodged between a cart and a man leading a horse, narrowly avoiding being run over by a coal cart. ‘Try tempting him forward with this.’ She handed her prize to the lad.

  ‘Give it ’ere, miss. I’ll have a go.’ Jemmy held the carrot under the donkey’s nose. It snickered and then made a loud noise, trying to grab the food and succeeding. ‘Blimey! He snatched it…’ Jemmy’s mouth fell open.

  He looked so astonished that Lord Coleridge gave a shout of laughter. He tossed the lad a gold coin. ‘I think you need to buy a large supply of treats,’ he said. ‘Be more careful next time.’

  Jemmy caught the coin and started over the road. The donkey made an ear-shattering noise and trotted over the road after him. Discovering that there were many more carrots on the stall, it snatched another, and when the barrow boy yelled in anger, took off down the road at a run, Jemmy in hot pursuit.

  ‘Not quite as exhausted as we thought,’ Max said, highly amused. Helene stared at him indignantly as he laughed. He sobered as he caught the look in her eye. ‘Forgive me, Miss Henderson, but you have to admit that it was funny.’

  ‘Yes, it was,’ she said and the laughter suddenly bubbled up inside her. ‘Oh, dear, it seems I have cost you a great deal of money and a lot of trouble for nothing.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Max told her. ‘To see that donkey with Jemmy in pursuit was worth far more than a few guineas, Miss Henderson. I do not know how he will live it down. I can only hope that my eloquence will be enough to retain his services—he may feel that he can no longer work for such a ramshackle fellow as myself.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘My groom awaits me patiently. Ladies—may I take you up in my curricle?’

  ‘Thank you, but we shall walk for the house is not far away,’ Helene said before Emily could reply. ‘It was kind of you to help us, sir—but we shall take up no more of your time.’

  Max lifted his hat, his eyes bright with amusement. ‘I shall see you another day, Miss Henderson. If you manage to avoid being run over by carts or attacked by rogues, of course. Good afternoon.’

  Helene watched him walk away. She turned to Emily, looking thoughtful. ‘He was very kind. I am not sure what would have happened if he had not come along just then. However, he seems to be one of those gentlemen who takes nothing seriously.’

  ‘I am sure you misjudge him. Lord Coleridge is fond of a jest, but quite a gentleman. You might have been in some danger,’ Emily told her. ‘That rogue would have hit you if he could. It was a little reckless of you, Helene.’

  ‘Yes, I know. My uncle has warned me of my impulsive nature—but I cannot abide cruelty, Emily.’

  ‘No, I see that you cannot,’ Emily said and gave her a look of approval. ‘Well, you were impulsive, Helene—but no harm came of it.’

  ‘No…’ Helene said, but she was thoughtful. She had rather liked the large gentleman, despite his tendency to levity—but whatever must he think of her?

  Chapter Two

  Amelia glanced through the pile of cards on the silver salver in the hall when they all returned from an outing the following afternoon. She looked pleased as she mentioned one or two names, and then frowned as she came to the last one. Her housekeeper was hovering nearby and she beckoned to her.

  ‘When did Lord Coleridge call, Mrs Becks?’

  ‘Just after you all went out, Miss Royston.’

  ‘Was he alone?’

  ‘Yes, miss. I believe so. Is something wrong?’

  ‘Oh…no,’ Amelia said, but she still looked slightly bothered about something as she took off her hat and handed it to Mrs Becks. ‘I was just a little surprised that he should call. He is Lord Pendleton’s friend rather than mine.’

  ‘Do you not approve of Lord Coleridge?’ Helene asked as she followed Amelia into the small parlour, which they used when not entertaining. ‘He seemed very pleasant when he…when we met yesterday.’

  ‘You met yesterday?’ Amelia glanced at her, surprised. ‘You did not mention it, Helene. Are you acquainted with Lord Coleridge?’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Helene said and blushed. ‘I suppose I ought to have told you about the incident, but there were visitors when Emily and I returned—’ She broke off and blushed, for during the night she had lain awake, remembering her impulsive behaviour, and shuddering at the thought of what might have happened if Lord Coleridge had not come to her rescue. ‘I hope you will not censure me…’ She repeated what had occurred and was rendered a little anxious when Amelia frowned. ‘I know it was impulsive, and perhaps I ought not to have done it, but I cannot abide cruelty.’

  ‘No, nor can I,’ Amelia said and looked serious. ‘I would not recommend such behaviour, Helene, for if Lord Coleridge had not happened to be passing you might have been in some trouble. Also, your behaviour might be censured by some in society, though not by me. I can understand your feelings, my dear, though I would urge caution for your own sake.’

  ‘I am sorry if I have displeased you.’ Helene looked at her anxiously. ‘You will not mention it to Mama, please?’

  ‘No, of course not. And you have not displeased me,’ Amelia told her. ‘At least it explains why Lord Coleridge called this afternoon. No doubt he wanted to inquire after you, to make sure you had suffered no harm.’

  ‘That was kind of him, was it not?’

  ‘Yes, though I should be a little careful of becoming too friendly with that gentleman.’ Amelia shook her head, an odd expression in her eyes. ‘No, forget I said that, Helene. He is perfectly respectable…and it was a long time ago. I should not have said anything.’

  Helene would have asked her to explain further, but her mother, who had gone straight upstairs earlier, now entered the room and looked at her. ‘Have you decided which dress you will wear this evening, my dearest? It is a soirée, so you will need one of your new gowns that we brought with us. I thought the pale green satin might look well—especially with the gloves and slippers you bought this morning.’


  ‘Yes, Mama,’ Helene said. ‘I think the green is perhaps the nicest of the gowns we brought with us.’

  ‘It will be very suitable for this evening,’ Amelia said. ‘Lady Marsh’s affair is quite small, but she is a particular friend and knows all the best people. We are fortunate to be invited to one of her musical evenings. You will meet some new acquaintances, which will make things easier for you tomorrow at the dance. You do not want to be sitting with your mama when the dancing begins, for everyone hates to be a wallflower.’

  Helene smiled and thanked her. Amelia had warned her of becoming too friendly with Lord Coleridge, though she had immediately retracted her words. What had been in her mind? Despite her retraction, and her assurance that Lord Coleridge was perfectly respectable, Helene suspected that she either did not like or did not approve of Lord Coleridge. Why? What had he done that had made her feel it would be better if Helene did not form a friendship with him?

  As Helene went up to change for the evening she was still pondering the question. She had liked Lord Coleridge. He had come to her rescue and dealt swiftly and firmly with what might have been an awkward situation, but, more than that, she had responded to his sense of humour and the twinkle in his eyes. However, on reflection, she recalled that he was a member of the aristocracy and perhaps it would be best to put the small incident from her mind. It would not suit her to marry a gentleman who had no idea of the value of money and wasted his blunt when it might be put to good use. Her mother had been slighted and ill used by Papa’s family and Helene did not wish for something similar to happen to her. She would do much better with a gentleman of moderate fortune who thought as she did about the important things of life.

  She was a thoughtful girl and was sensible of the fact that she owed her chance to enter society entirely to Miss Royston. Without Amelia’s generosity, she would never have been given a Season in London. Rather than offend her hostess, she would try to avoid Lord Coleridge’s company as much as possible, though of course she would speak to him when they met. He had done her a service and mere politeness demanded that she thank him at least once more. However, it was more than likely that she would not often meet him. He was a titled gentleman and she did not suppose that he would be in the least interested in a country nobody. Nor indeed was she interested in anything more than a nodding acquaintance with a man like him!