But alas, that was not meant to be.
Unless…
No. Helena dared not contemplate such a manipulation.
Callie turned back to them all, looking pleased. “I knew you were in love with him!”
Helena blinked, thinking for a moment the words were meant for her again. They were not, however. She had been too preoccupied with the unsettling idea which had erupted in her mind, much like a volcano.
Dangerous and destructive.
She banished the thoughts, knowing them unworthy.
“How did you know?” Jo asked.
“You made it quite apparent the day I suggested Helena use Decker to cause a scandal,” Callie said gently, returning to her seat. “That is wonderful, dearest! I know this marriage was a bit rushed, but I am relieved to hear the two of you are in love.”
“Not the two of us,” Jo said. “I fear I am alone in my feelings.”
A hated state Helena knew all too well. Still, she had seen the manner in which Mr. Elijah Decker, the handsome businessman Jo had so recently wed, looked at his wife. If only Huntingdon would gaze at her with such longing in his eyes, rather than with disgust over his lack of gentlemanly decorum.
“But the way he looks at you,” Helena argued, shaking herself from the unworthy thought, “I would be willing to wager you are wrong.”
“I fear not.” Jo sighed heavily. “He has never hinted at the slightest bit of feelings, and for a man of his reputation…”
That, too, sounded familiar. Huntingdon had never admitted to caring for her or for possessing any tender emotions toward her in the slightest. Of course he did not love her. Could not love her.
And yet, the idea was still there. The unwanted notion. Tempting. Taunting.
Did she dare? All this time, she had been attempting to ruin herself with other gentlemen, and the only one she had managed to behave scandalously with was the man she loved. And if she was faced with having no choice other than to marry Lord Hamish, could she truly be desperate enough to use Huntingdon’s actions in the lady’s withdrawing room against him?
She looked inside herself and the answer was undeniable: yes. She was.
They discussed Decker’s past for a few minutes, and Helena was grateful for the diversion. Until the conversation turned back to her.
“Enough about me, if you please,” Lady Jo said. “I am certain it shall all untangle itself as it ought. How is your campaign against the odious Lord Hamish going, my dear?”
Compromising herself to avoid marrying Lord Hamish had been an idea she and her friends had developed together. Heat crept over Helena’s cheeks.
Here was her opportunity to consult her friends and see what opinions they held on the matter. “I do believe I may have convinced someone to aid me in my quest to be ruined.”
“Tell us everything,” Callie demanded.
A knock at the door heralded the arrival of a maid.
“After I arrange for my biscuits, cakes, and quail eggs, of course,” she amended, grinning.
Helena waited for her friend to make her unusual request to the kitchens before explaining everything that had happened to her thus far, detailing Huntingdon’s successful attempts to keep her from other gentlemen, up until the kiss they had shared.
“He seems dreadfully invested for a man who has recently celebrated his betrothal to another lady,” Callie pointed out shrewdly.
The reminder of Lady Beatrice nettled.
“He does,” she agreed miserably. “He had insisted he considered his actions a duty on account of his friendship with Shelbourne. And I believed him until…”
Lady Jo leaned forward in her chair. “Until? Do not leave us in suspense.”
“Until he kissed me,” she admitted, her cheeks going hotter as she made the revelation. Not because she was embarrassed, but because she could not help but to recall Huntingdon’s kisses. “I had arranged to meet the Marquess of Dorset at the Duke and Duchess of Bainbridge’s ball, and Huntingdon somehow discovered and met me in the library himself. I had arranged for Lady Clementine Hammond to walk in upon us and solidify my ruination. I scarcely had enough time to send Huntingdon out the door before Lady Clementine arrived.”
