But now the sister, at the age of two-and-thirty, had surprised everyone by betrothing herself to a widower, a baronet more than fifteen years her senior, who desperately needed a mature woman to care for his five children. When Lord Harding began to appear at the social events of the ton, therefore, it was rumored that he was finally looking around for a new wife. Lady Emily seemed to be his instant choice, and it was not difficult to see why that would be. She was the daughter of an earl. She was young, yet past her girlhood, elegant and dignified. He was not the sort of man who would be unduly concerned with her lack of humor.
She was invited to attend the theater with him, his sister, and her betrothed a week after the Hetherington ball, a week during which she had driven with him twice and received visits from him on two other occasions. Lady Melissa was also invited to attend in order to even the numbers with a young cousin of Lord Harding's. However, it was Helen who actually did go. She showed almost the only animation she had displayed since their arrival in London when she heard of the good fortune of her sisters.
"You are going to see The School for Scandal?" she said when Emily introduced the topic over tea in the drawing room one afternoon. "Oh, Emmy, I would give my right arm to be in your shoes. I have read the play, you know, and it is enormously witty. I wonder if it will be well-acted. Oh, I do wish I could see it myself."
Melissa pulled a face. "You would not be so eager if you knew what company you would be in, Helen," she said. "Lord Harding, Miss Lane, and Sir Rupert Davies are quite distinguished company, of course, but Mr. Simms! He must be a head shorter than I am, and so thin and youthful-looking that I shall be positively embarrassed to be seen with him."
"Oh, Melly!" Helen retorted. "What possible difference can it make who your companion is to be when you will be watching a play? You will hardly even be called upon to converse with him."
"Then do you go with him," Melissa said crossly. "You would be a more suitable companion anyway, Helen. I am sure the two of you are more of an age, and you probably would not be taller than he."
"Oh, may I, Emmy, do you think?" Helen asked, turning to her eldest sister eagerly. "I promise to be impeccably well-behaved and to smile until my face splits in two."
Emily replaced her cup in its saucer and placed both on the table in front of her. "I really do not see why you cannot take Melissa's place," she said. "Lord Harding asked only that my sister accompany us tomorrow evening. You really must keep that promise, though, Helen."
"Oh, I shall," Helen cried. "I shall be so intent on the play that I shall not have a chance to get into any kind of trouble, Emmy."
"Well," her sister said doubtfully, "you must remember that a visit to the theater is a social occasion too. You are not expected to have your attention so glued to the stage that you totally ignore your companions."
"I shall be very civil to Mr. What's-his-name, never fear," Helen assured her sister.
On the following evening Helen was still excited. She had never seen a play performed before. She could only imagine how delightful the experience would be. She took extra pains with her appearance, insisting on a plain satin gown of royal blue, which made her look a great deal less pasty than did the pastel shades favored by her mother. She had Matty tightly braid her hair and wrap it around the back of her head. It was a new style for her, but it would certainly tame those wisps of hair that always succeeded in working •heir way free of loose curls or ringlets. She thought the braids quite becoming when she examined herself in the glass. A pale face, which had lost its youthful bloom, looked back at her, but she was not concerned a ith dazzling anyone.
Lord Harding had brought his cousin with him in the carriage. They were to meet his sister and her betrothed at the theater. Melissa had been quite right. Mr. Timothy Simms was a very small man and thin into the bargain. Although he was apparently very young, his fair hair was thinning. He seemed to be living to disguise its sparsity by combing it straight up at the sides and piled in the center. His shirt points were so high and so stiff that Helen feared he was in danger of scratching his eyeballs with them. But she was not at all perturbed by the thought of having to spend the evening in his company. She smiled dazzlingly at him and unknowingly enslaved him from the first moment.
She gazed about her in frank wonder when they entered Lord Harding's box at the theater. She did not know what she had expected, but it was certainly not this.
"It is more like a ballroom than a theater," she said wide-eyed to Mr. Simms, who was solicitously placing a chair for her close to the balcony. "Look at those chandeliers and all the velvet in the boxes."
"It is quite a magnificent place, is it not?" he agreed.
"And the people!" she continued. "Do they always dress like this, sir, to watch a play?"
Mr. Simms smiled indulgently and placed his own chair as close to Helen's as he decently could. "But of course," he said. "Attending the theater is a fashionable activity, Lady Helen. No one wishes to be seen to disadvantage by other members of the ton."
"And will everyone quieten down when the play begins?" Helen asked. "There is such a noise now that I can scarcely hear myself think."
He smiled. "A great deal depends on the quality of the acting," he said. "People will listen if there is something worthwhile to listen to."
"And they will carry on talking otherwise?" she asked incredulously. "How unspeakably rude!"
Mr. Simms laughed outright. "You are delightfully idealistic, Lady Helen," he said. "Most people do not come to the theater for the primary purpose of watching a play, you know."
But at that moment the performance began and there was no further chance for conversation. Helen was enthralled from the outset. Mr. Sheridan's wit positively sparkled through the expert performance of the actors. She could not have said afterward if the audience had quietened down or not. She forgot there was an audience. She was alone in the theater, carried body and soul into the world of the drama. It was quite bewildering at the end of the act to discover that there was to be an intermission before the play resumed. Helen blinked and looked around her, disoriented for a moment.
Lord Harding rose and held out a hand to Emily. "May I escort you to the box of my aunt, Lady Downing? She has asked that I present you to her," he said.
They left the box, followed closely by Lord Harding's sister and Sir Rupert Davies. Helen had no intention of moving. Had she got up from her seat and moved out of sight of the stage, the spell would be broken. She waited impatiently for the play to resume. She found it harder to converse with Mr. Simms than she had before. She looked around when someone entered the box, expecting to see one of their party returned. But it was William Mainwaring who was standing there looking at her.
"Good evening, Lady Helen," he said gravely, bowing formally. "I trust you are enjoying the play?"
Helen gaped and suddenly became very conscious of Mr. Simms beside her. "Thank you, sir," she said. "Yes, indeed, I am. May I present Mr. Timothy Simms? Mr. Simms, Mr. William Mainwaring."
The two men exchanged bows and polite greetings. And all three of them conducted a stiff and labored conversation for the few minutes that ensued before Lord Harding's group returned. Mr. Mainwaring exchanged civilities with the newcomers and took his leave. But before he did so, he turned to Helen again and addressed her quietly, but for all to hear.
"May I call on you tomorrow, ma'am," he asked, "and take you driving in the park?"
Helen bit down hard on her lower lip. Just in time she remembered where she was and who her audience was. And she had promised Emmy so faithfully to be on her best behavior. She could not make a scene. And he must have known it.