An Innocent Debutante In Hanover Square

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 near by 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!

‘Max!’ a voice hailed him loudly from across the road as he was about to enter his sporting club. Max turned and looked round; he grinned as he saw the younger man approaching on foot. ‘I am glad to have caught you. I am just this day come to town. Harry sent me to look at some decent cattle he heard of and I think they are just what I need. I wondered if you would give me the benefit of your advice in the morning?’

‘Toby Sinclair…’ Max clapped him on the shoulder. ‘The newest member of the Four-in-Hand. So Harry put you on the right track, did he? Your uncle is one of the best judges of horseflesh I know. I doubt you need my advice.’

‘I should like it none the less,’ Toby said. ‘I have no engagements in town as yet.’

‘Ah…’ Max nodded, looked thoughtful, then, ‘I am promised to Lady Marsh this evening. I think you know my great-aunt Edith? I am certain she would welcome you.’

‘Thank you,’ Toby said, his eyes lighting up. ‘I could have spent the evening at a gaming hell, but I’ve just accepted an offer from Harry to join him in a business venture and I am trying not too waste too much blunt at the tables.’

‘Sensible,’ Max said and frowned. ‘I happened to see Northaven this morning. I was surprised to see him back in town after what happened at Pendleton last year. He would have done better to take himself off abroad as Harry bid him.’

‘I dare say his pride would not let him.’

‘I dare say you are right.’

‘I have wondered if it was Northaven who attempted to kidnap Amelia Royston in Pendleton woods last summer,’ Toby said. ‘If, indeed, it was an attempt to snatch her and not merely a botched robbery?’

‘Ravenshead has his own ideas on the subject,’ Max said and looked thoughtful. ‘Miss Royston is in town, you know. She has some friends staying—Mrs Henderson and her daughter Helene.’

‘Really? I must call tomorrow,’ Toby said. He looked round as they entered the sporting club together. ‘Are you going to box or fence today?’

‘I thought to see who was here,’ Max said. ‘Do you fancy yourself with the foils, Sinclair?’

‘Well, I’m not sure I’m up to your mark, Coleridge,’ Toby said and grinned. ‘But I’m game if you are?’

‘Delighted,’ Max said and clapped him on the back. ‘Tell you the truth, I’ve been missing Harry and Gerard. Harry invited me down to Pendleton, and I may go in a few weeks, but I have not heard a word from Ravenshead since he went to France. I am not certain he intends to return.’

‘Oh, I think he may,’ Toby said. ‘Susannah told me that he had written to Harry. He has been delayed, but he has engaged an English nanny for his daughter and I think he will open the house at Ravenshead in another month or so.’

‘Ah, that is good news. I dare say he may visit with Harry and Susannah for a while, and I shall certainly go down at the end of the Season.’ Unless he found a lady to propose to in the meantime, Max thought. He said nothing of his plans to take a wife, which had been forming slowly for a while.

He did not know why he had not married sooner—he wished to have children, and not simply because he needed an heir for his estate. Max had been an only child after his younger brother died in childhood. He had joined the army more out of a desire for companionship than a wish to be a soldier and had formed some strong friendships. However, Harry Pendleton’s marriage to a spirited young girl, and Gerard’s absence in France, had made him aware that his life was empty.

If he could find a girl who would put up with him—one he could feel comfortable with on a daily basis—he might decide to settle down quite soon. Max was not sure whether or not he needed to love the girl. Perhaps that was not necessary for a marriage of convenience. Affection and compatibility was possibly more important? He did not think that he could put up with a simpering miss who was interested only in her new gown or some fresh trinket, though he could afford to indulge his wife with all the trinkets she required. A little smile touched his mouth as he recalled the girl and the donkey. Now Helene certainly had spirit and her indignant look had made him smile…

Helene glanced at herself in the cheval mirror. Her gown was not as stylish as some Amelia wore, but, caught high under the bust with a band of embroidery, it became her well. She had added a new spangled stole and some long white gloves and white slippers. Her dark brown hair was dressed simply in a knot at the back of her head, fastened with pearl pins, and she wore a string of pearls about her throat. They had belonged to her father’s grandmother, so she had been told, and were the only jewellery she possessed, apart from a matching pair of earbobs.

A knock at the door announced a visitor. Helene had dismissed her maid once she was ready, and called out that whoever it was might enter. She smiled as the door opened and Emily entered. She was wearing a dark blue gown, very simple in design, but of quality silk and cut most elegantly.

‘You look lovely,’ Helene exclaimed. ‘I like you in blue, Emily. I do not know why you do not wear it more often.’

‘Amelia has been trying to wean me from grey for a long time,’ Emily said. ‘I am particularly fond of blue, but I used to think it was not a suitable colour for a companion.’

‘Amelia does not think of you in that way,’ Helene assured her. Her face was thoughtful as she studied the other woman. Emily looked much younger now that she had abandoned her habitual grey. ‘I believe she values you as a friend.’

‘Yes, she has told me so many times,’ Emily agreed. For a moment she looked sad, but it passed and she was smiling again. ‘You are beautiful, Helene. That dress becomes you.’

‘Thank you.’ Helene glanced at her reflection once more. ‘It is not as stylish as your gown, or those we have ordered, I dare say—but I do not think I shall disgrace Amelia this evening.’

‘I am very certain you will not,’ Emily said and laughed softly. ‘You look everything you ought, Helene. I was sent to see if you were ready—shall we go down?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Helene said. ‘I am a little nervous about this evening. It is my first outing into London society and I am not sure what to expect.’

‘That is why Amelia chose carefully for you,’ Emily said. ‘I am sure everyone will approve of you, Helene, for your manners are good and you think before you speak—and I think you will like Lady Marsh, who is your hostess this evening, for she is very kind. She is Lord Coleridge’s great-aunt on his father’s side. She has been kind to me even though I am just a companion.’

‘You are a lady, anyone can see that,’ Helene said. ‘Being a companion does not make you any the less respectable, Emily.’

Emily laughed. ‘That is not always the opinion of everyone, Helene—but I am very fortunate to have Amelia as my employer. She is respected everywhere. Because of her kindness I have been accepted by most—and you will be, too, Helene.’

‘Thank you, I feel a little better now. Shall we go?’

Helene’s nerves returned when they alighted from the carriage and walked along the carpet that had been laid on the ground outside the large house to protect the ladies from getting their gowns soiled. Lanterns were being held for them by linkboys, and the carriage had been obliged to queue when they first arrived—and this was supposed to be a modest affair! Helene was glad of Emily’s company as they walked into the house together. They were greeted first by their hostess. Lady Marsh was a small plump lady of perhaps sixty years, dressed in a purple gown and a gold turban, and she kept them talking for a moment before allowing them to pass on to the reception rooms.

The first elegant salon was half-empty, a mere half a dozen couples standing around, talking and greeting each other. Amelia smiled and greeted two ladies, who lifted their hands in welcome as they entered. She introduced Mrs Henderson and Helene.

‘Lady Renton, Lady Jamieson,’ she said, ‘may I make you known to some good friends who have come to stay with me for a while—Mrs Henderson, and Miss Helene Henderson…and, of course, you know my dearest Emily.’

Helene felt herself being scrutinised. She dipped a respectful curtsy, wondering if she were being approved. Lady Renton seemed a little aloof in her manner, as if reserving judgement, though Lady Jamieson was friendly enough. Helene was relieved as they passed on to the next group of two ladies and a gentleman.

‘Miss Royston, I am pleased to see you here,’ the gentleman said and then looked at Helene, one eyebrow raised in expectation.

‘Mr Bradwell,’ Amelia said. ‘Mrs Bradwell, Miss Bradwell…may I present my friends—Mrs Henderson and Miss Helene Henderson…Mr Nicholas Bradwell and his mama and sister.’

‘Charming, quite charming,’ Nicholas Bradwell said and inclined his head. ‘I am happy to make your acquaintance, ma’am—Miss Henderson.’ His eyes had fixed on Helene’s face. ‘Tell me, do you enjoy music, Miss Henderson?’

‘Yes, sir, I like it very well.’

‘And do you play an instrument yourself perhaps?’

‘Yes, sir. I play the pianoforte, though I cannot profess to be accomplished.’

‘Helene, you are too modest,’ Mrs Henderson said and gave her a reproving look. ‘My daughter plays very well, sir. I have heard her spoken of as talented, but she does not like to say so herself.’

‘A truly modest young lady.’ Nicholas Bradwell looked at her and nodded. He was a gentleman of perhaps forty years or so. Of medium height and slim build, he was dressed fashionably, his hair cut short and brushed back from his forehead, the wings sprinkled with grey. ‘Perhaps you would let me take you in, Miss Henderson? I shall make you known to your fellow guests.’

Helene glanced at her mother, who nodded her consent. Feeling her stomach tighten with nerves, Helene laid her hand on his arm and allowed him to draw her into the next reception room. Here it was more crowded, and most of the chairs and sofas were occupied. Helene saw that it was here that the musical entertainment would be given a little later.

‘Shall we reserve that sofa?’ Nicholas Bradwell asked, gesturing towards one that was still unoccupied. ‘I shall sit with you and give up my seat when your mama comes.’

‘If you wish, sir,’ Helene said and glanced round, feeling uncomfortable. He had promised to introduce her, but now seemed bent on reserving her company to himself. She did not mind it for he was not unattractive and she felt at home with him. He reminded her of her uncle’s friends, gentlemen who had treated her kindly in the past. ‘Though if older ladies are standing, I should perhaps give up my seat.’

‘I dare say some of the gentlemen will repair to the card room when the music begins,’ Nicholas Bradwell told her with a smile. ‘I myself came for the music. We have a fine tenor to entertain us this evening. He is Italian, you know, and I think his voice one of the best I have heard. However, many of the younger gentlemen will no doubt find their way to the tables before long. Some of them have no ear.’

‘Oh…’ Helene was not sure what to say. Her cheeks had heated slightly because she had noticed two gentlemen enter the salon together—and one of them was Lord Coleridge. ‘I thought everyone would wish to hear Signor Manzini…’ She drew her breath in as she saw that Lord Coleridge was walking towards them. She looked down at her lap, her hands clasped as he bowed before them.

‘Miss Henderson, I am delighted to see you this evening. Bradwell—good to see you here, sir. I heard that you had been unwell.’

Helene sensed the tension in the gentleman beside her. She had a feeling that he resented the interruption and risked a glance at him. A tiny pulse was beating at his temple.

‘It was a mere chill,’ Nicholas Bradwell replied. ‘I may call on you in a day or so to settle the little matter between us.’

‘Whenever you wish, there is no need for haste, sir,’ Max said and smiled at Helene. ‘I hope you suffered no ill effects of your experience the other day, Miss Henderson. I have to tell you that Jemmy is doing very well with his charge, though we have not as yet found Jezra a new home.’

‘Jezra?’ Helene’s gaze flew to his face. She saw the laughter lurking in his eyes. ‘You have given that poor creature a name? Do you expect him to recover? I know that you were uncertain of it.’

‘I believe Jezra is tougher than we all imagined,’ Max told her. ‘He is gaining weight and I am reliably informed that with the proper treatment his appearance will improve—though whether my credit will survive his arrival I do not know.’

‘Yes, I did hear that you had a donkey in your stable,’ Nicholas Bradwell said, a smirk on his lips. ‘Not quite in your style, Coleridge?’

‘Oh, the creature grows on one, you know,’ Max replied carelessly. ‘I dare say it might do to pull the children of my head groom in a cart, in the country, you know—once it has recovered its strength, of course.’

‘A children’s pet,’ Helene nodded, her expression thoughtful. ‘It is the very thing, sir. You are good to consider it.’

‘It was a matter of finding somewhere for Jezra to go before he quite destroys my reputation,’ Max replied in a casual manner. ‘Jemmy told me that he considered leaving me for Lord Carrington’s employ, but he considers that I am fractionally the better whip and has decided to give me another chance. So I must count myself fortunate…’

‘That tiger of yours is a deal too free in his manners,’ Nicholas Bradwell said sourly. ‘If a stable lad spoke to me in that way, I should instantly dismiss him.’

‘Should you, Bradwell?’ Max arched his brow. He was very much the aristocrat in that moment, almost arrogant, his expression unreadable. ‘I must advise him not to offer his services to you should he decide that I am beneath his touch, which he may yet do. I confess that I should be devastated should he take himself off.’

‘You are a wit, sir.’ Bradwell glared at him. ‘Forgive me if I do not see merit in such levity.’ He glanced at Helene, his mouth pulled into a grim smile. ‘You must excuse me for a moment, Miss Henderson. I have seen someone I must speak to.’

‘Oh, dear…’ Max glanced after him, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. ‘I fear I have upset that gentleman. I am sorry to have lost you your admirer, Miss Henderson.’

‘Do not be ridiculous, sir! I have only just met Mr Bradwell. I assure you that he is not my admirer.’

‘But he will undoubtedly become so,’ Max said and nodded. ‘I believe you have made a conquest—the first of many, no doubt.’

‘I doubt it very much, sir.’ Helene shook her head at him. ‘Please, make me no empty compliments, for I do not care for them. I know you were funning just now, but pray tell me why you called that creature Jezra?’

‘Jemmy said he should be called Jezebel, for his temperament is uncertain to say the least—sly and devilish, my groom described him as. I explained that Jezebel was a female, and so we settled on Jezra. I hope the name meets with your approval?’

‘My approval is not necessary, but I find it apt,’ Helene said. His humour was infectious, though she did wish that he might be serious for a moment. ‘Shall you truly send Jezra to the country? I thought you might give the beast to someone.’

‘I could not be certain the poor beast would not be beaten and starved again,’ Max told her. His eyes seemed to be warm and approving as they surveyed her. ‘Having given Jezra a taste of what life can be like when there is a warm stable and food, I do not think it fair to abandon him. Besides, I think that would have earned me your disapproval, Miss Henderson.’

‘I should have been sad had the creature gone to a cruel master, for I cannot abide cruelty,’ Helene told him. ‘But I have no right to approve or disapprove of what you do, sir.’

‘Do you not?’ Max looked thoughtful. ‘Be that as it may, I would rather have your good opinion—’ He broke off as her mother came up to them. ‘I am remiss. I have not introduced Toby to you, Miss Henderson—Toby Sinclair, Miss Helene Henderson.’ He smiled at the older lady as the two exchanged greetings. ‘Ma’am, we met earlier when we arrived. Pray take your seat. Toby and I are on our way to the card room. Please excuse us.’

Mrs Henderson sat down as he walked away. She frowned at her daughter. ‘I suppose Mr Bradwell introduced you. Lord Coleridge is a pleasant enough gentleman, but above our touch, Helene. I heard that he may be looking for a wife, but I dare say he will look higher. Someone said that he has been paying attention to Miss Fitzherbert. She is an heiress of some note, though not present this evening. I would not advise you to think of that gentleman as a husband, Helene. Remember my experiences. I should not wish you to be slighted by his family as I was by your papa’s.’

‘Mama! I was not setting my cap at him,’ Helene said and blushed. ‘We were merely talking. Besides, you know that I would never forget the way you were treated.’

‘You seemed almost on intimate terms with him,’ her mother remarked. ‘I have seldom seen you look so animated in company, Helene. I dare say he would be a good catch if you could get him, but I think we must set our sights lower, my love. Mr Bradwell is of far less consequence, but I believe him to be quite warm—not an old name and fortune like Coleridge, of course. Mr Bradwell was once married, I am told, but his wife unfortunately died of a fever without giving him an heir. I feel certain that he must be looking to settle his nursery, for he is past forty. He would be a good match for you, my love.’

‘Mama, please do not,’ Helene begged, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. ‘Supposing someone were to hear? I am very certain Mr Bradwell has no such notion, at least as far as I am concerned.’

‘Well, he seemed taken,’ her mother said. ‘Not that there is any hurry, for this is your first evening affair…and now we should be silent for the music is about to begin.’

Helene was tempted to remind her that she had done most of the talking, but she was too well bred to argue in public. Nor would she have said much had they been at home. It was clear to Helene that her mama was anxious for her to make a good match, and she felt that she must do her very best to oblige her. She did not dislike Mr Bradwell, though she had thought that his good manners had deserted him when he was addressing Lord Coleridge. Indeed, that gentleman had made him seem almost dull and boorish in comparison.