The afternoon and the formal dinner passed agreeably for almost everyone. A late luncheon was awaiting them when they arrived, and afterward the ladies retired to the rooms that had been prepared for them to rest after the journey. Later Lord Harding took some of his guests on a walk around his very large garden, while the less energetic stayed in the house to play billiards or merely to converse around the cozy fire that had been lit in the drawing room. They all retired again before dinner in order to rest and get ready for the evening.
Lord Harding was feeling pleased with himself by the time dinner was over. Lady Emily Wade had behaved with the modest self-assurance that he desired in a wife. She had admired his home and his garden, yet with a restraint that did not suggest a greed to make them her own. She had sat to his right at both luncheon and dinner and had conversed sensibly with both him and her near neighbors. Perhaps, if the opportunity presented itself, he thought, he would talk to her later in the evening. She was, after all, of age, and talking to her father was a formality rather than a strict necessity.
Melissa was feeling moderately contented. She had succeeded in singling Mr. Rodney Ashley out from the rest of the group that had gone walking earlier and found him to be an agreeable young man, even if not a particularly forceful character. She had made a point of being close to him when dinner was announced, and he had led her in and seated himself next to her. At least she was showing Mr. Mainwaring that she was in no way pining for his attentions.
William Mainwaring himself was beginning to breathe more easily. So far he had succeeded in keeping both himself and the Hetheringtons away from Nell. All three of them had chosen to remain at the house during the afternoon. He was not sure if Elizabeth and Robert, like him, had deliberately stayed back when it became clear that Nell intended to go. It hurt him more than he would admit to feel that perhaps his friends were deliberately avoiding her, but it was nevertheless a relief. She was very quiet today. He had hardly heard her voice, even at the dinner table, when she was sitting two seats removed from his. But it was not a contented quiet, he felt. Her face was pale and rigidly set. He did not wish to provoke any unpleasantness in public.
It had been a nightmare of a day for Helen. She had held grimly to her self-control, but she felt like an animal caught in a trap. She felt suffocated for air. If only she could get away! She had thought of pleading illness and returning home, but doing so would attract too much attention. She had flirted desperately with Mr. Simms over luncheon but had realized with dismay that he was very responsive. She must not deliberately capture the poor man's heart when she knew she might leave him hurt. She knew too well what such treatment felt like.
Unfortunately, Mr. Simms had stayed close to her all through the afternoon, and he had led her in to dinner and talked to her throughout. Perhaps it was a good thing. At least his presence gave her good reason to stay away from the three people she wished to avoid. But now she had the added problem of being civil to him while not in any way encouraging his advances. And she could not avoid watching the Hetheringtons in the drawing room before dinner, her arm linked through his, conversing with perfect amiability to all around them, but occasionally glancing at each other with open affection. And she was forced to watch William cross the room to Janet Ashley and offer her his arm in to dinner, and to listen to his voice as he talked to her during the meal.
Yet, by the time dinner was over, she was at least pleased that there had been no confrontation. If they could just get through the evening as they had the day, they could all go home in the morning and breathe easily again. Emmy at least looked happy. It was clearly only a matter of time before she was betrothed to Lord Harding. He was a thoroughly dry old stick in Helen's estimation and not without a large sense of his own importance. But he would, undoubtedly, be a good catch for Emmy. Life as Lady Harding would suit her down to the ground.
Sophie had risen from the table, and Helen took her cue, as did the other ladies, to leave the gentlemen to their port. She followed the others to the drawing room. Most of them immediately clustered around the pianoforte. Helen would have sat down close to the fire had not the marchioness done so first. Helen had no desire for a t?te-a-t?te with that lady. She lingered close to the others while it was decided that Melly should play first and Emmy sing.
They were still arranged thus when the gentlemen joined them. Mr. Simms immediately singled out Helen.
"Do you play?" he asked. "I am sure we would all like to hear you."
"Yes," she said, "I do play, but only for my own amusement, sir."
Lord Harding was standing close, having approached the instrument to congratulate Emily on the song she had just finished. "I'll wager you are being too modest, Lady Helen," he said. "Your sisters are both accomplished musicians. I would expect that you are in no way inferior. Please favor us with a piece."
"I would rather not," she said. "Really, I have not been used to playing in public as my sisters have."
"Then sing for us at least," Mr. Simms persisted. "I am sure you must have a sweet voice. Your sister will remain at the pianoforte and accompany you, I am sure." He smiled at Melissa, who still occupied the stool.
Helen's hands were opening and closing at her sides. She was trying hard to maintain her control, though she felt as if the nightmare of the day were reaching a climax. "I don't sing," she said.
"Perhaps a duet," he suggested. "I sing a little myself. Surely we can find a song that we both know. You can play while I sing."
Her hands were clenched into fists now, her knuckles white against the sides of her gown. "I think not," she said, forcing a smile. She could feel her control slipping.
Mr. Simms smiled back and opened his mouth to continue his persuasions.
A hand grasped Helen lightly by the arm. "Lady Helen is tired, I believe," William Mainwaring said. "It has been a long and busy day." He turned to smile down at her. "Perhaps you are ready for that walk in the garden we talked about earlier? Or are you too tired?" He would allow her a way out if she wanted it.
She looked blankly back at him for a moment, but he felt the muscles of her arms relax as she unclenched her hands. "No, I am not too tired," she said. "Fresh air and a walk are just what I need."
"Go and fetch your cloak, then," he said. "It will be chilly outside, I think."
She went from the room in a daze.
Chapter 13
He held the front door open for her, waving aside the footman who jumped forward for the purpose. It was not a dark night. The sky was still as clear as it had been all day, and the nearly full moon and the stars gave enough light that they did not need to stay on the terrace that circled the house. When they had descended the stone steps to the cobbled courtyard before it, William Mainwaring took Helen's arm and linked it through his.
She felt herself grow tense. He had touched her briefly before, when they were introduced at the ball and when he had helped her into and out of his curricle the afternoon they had driven together. But those had not been prolonged contacts. Now she could feel the muscles of his arm through the thickness of his greatcoat, and her shoulder rested against his upper arm. She felt small and fragile again, as she had when they had become lovers. And she wanted above everything else to close her eyes and lay her head against his shoulder and trust to his strength to bear all her burdens.