“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
H e 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.
She had very nearly cracked back there in the drawing room. One moment more and she would have been screaming with fury at poor Mr. Simms and Lord Harding. And over what? Just a small matter of playing the pianoforte and singing. It was too ghastly a thought to bear contemplation. She would have horribly embarrassed both herself and everyone else present. But more serious than that, she might have jeopardized Emily’s chances with Lord Harding. He might not want a bride with a sister who could so lose all sense of propriety. Though soon enough he would know anyway. William had saved her on this occasion. There could be no doubt that he had sensed her mood and had done what he could to avert trouble. She had to feel some gratitude.
They walked in silence for several minutes, threading their way slowly among the graveled walks of the formal gardens that stretched for several hundred yards before the house. He was the first to speak.
“What is it, Nell?” he said quietly. “What is it that is making you so very miserable?”
She wanted to give him a tart answer. She opened her mouth to do so. But the words would not come. The fight had gone completely out of her for the present. She hung her head and said nothing.
“Is it me?” he asked. “Have I caused all this change? I can hardly recognize in you the carefree little wood nymph that I once knew.”
“Don’t,” she murmured.
“What?”
“Don’t,” she repeated. “Don’t, don’t!” She tried to pull her hand free of his arm, but he would not let her go.
“Nell, you are not crying, are you?” he asked, turning to her and trying to see into her face.
“No,” she said, but her voice came out on such a quaver that she gulped and made matters worse.
“You are crying!” he said, aghast, and he finally let go of her arm and drew her into his arms, cradling her head against the capes of his coat. “Don’t. Oh please, don’t. Tell me what I can do, Nell. I know I have hurt you dreadfully, but I do not know what I can do to make amends.”
“There is nothing,” she said into the cloth of his coat. He had to bend his ear closer to hear the words between her sobs. “There is nothing you can do for me, William. Neither of us is quite the person I thought, and it is too late now to change that. There is nothing you can do. Take me back, please.”
“You are in such pain,” he said, laying his cheek against the top of her head. “And you have been like this since I met you here. I have to do something, Nell. I cannot see you destroy yourself like this. Will it help if I tell you something about myself and why I left you as I did in the summer?”
“No, it would not help at all,” she said, pulling her head away from his coat, though he still held her firmly against him. “I do not want to talk about that.”
