“I see. And Lady Cerise? Did his lordship leave word for her as well?”
“He did not see fit to leave one. You may explain the situation to Lady Cerise since she is in your care until Lord Galway’s return.”
Wonderful. Her father’s unexplained departure and the mooning over Roxboro was bound to put Cerise in a mood.
Helen opened the missive, keeping her features smooth. An urgent business matter at one of Galway’s estates required his immediate attention. He would be gone for at least a week, possibly a fortnight.
Helen had to contain her enthusiasm, especially with the butler studying her. “Is there anything else, Parker?”
“No, Miss Cosgrove.” He bowed, leaving her to read the remainder of Galway’s note. More instructions on how Cerise was to conduct herself in his absence.
Lowell may call upon Lady Cerise, but only once. No other gentlemen are to be admitted.
Unsurprising. Helen assumed Lowell had already been chosen as Cerise’s future husband by Galway. Good. She felt terrible when considering the fate awaiting Lowell, but Cerise’s marriage also meant Helen’s freedom from this house.
You may take her to the modiste, or a stroll in the park. Nothing else.
Cerise would grouse at that. So Helen could look forward to a great deal of sulking.
Turn away Lady Hester. She is a poor influence.
Helen strongly doubted that could be accomplished. The two were as thick as thieves. Cerise would throw a tantrum if she couldn’t see her friend and the end result would be the same. Hester would eventually be seated in the drawing room with a cup of tea.
Cerise would be unhappy at her father’s abandonment, especially since he hadn’t even deigned to leave her a note. At times such as these, Helen felt a great deal of sympathy for Cerise. She knew, more than most, what it was like to feel more like a possession, than a person, albeit Helen was a possession no one ever wanted. Lord Galway’s affection for his daughter, if one could call it that, was based on Cerise’s ability make a splendid match, one that would enhance his own connections. He was proud of her beauty, her bearing, and her pedigree. But little else.
“Miss Cosgrove.” Cerise came back down the stairs, saw the note, and snatched it from Helen’s hand. Reading her father’s words, she became red-faced and furious. “Let us have tea in the drawing room,” she snapped.
Helen inclined her head and followed. She could read Cerise’s moods well after so long. Tea was sure to be a trial, full of pouting and complaints.
Once Parker shut the drawing room door, Cerise turned on Helen, eyes full of determination.
“Compose a note.” She paced back and forth.
Not the first time Cerise had ordered her to do so. The girl had poor handwriting and Helen was often tasked with hercorrespondence. “To Lord Galway?” She went to the writing desk and pulled out a crisp piece of paper.
“No, to Roxboro.” She made a self-satisfied sound. “I wish to invite him to call upon me. Insist he must. Immediately. Or I will be forced to wed Lord Lowell.”
“My lady—”
“This instant. Lord Galway is not at home; thus, it is the perfect time for Roxboro to call. We will discuss plans to break his betrothal so that he might wed me. We can…elope to Gretna Green. Or find an amiable vicar in the country. I’m sure the duke has one at his estate.”
“I think, my lady—”
“You are not paid to think, Miss Cosgrove,” replied Cerise. “You take orders and this is one. Roxboromustcall upon me or I will wed Lowell.” She lifted her chin. “Now, write exactly what I dictate.”
An hour later, Helen looked down at the ridiculous, flowery prose Cerise had spouted. Good lord, not even Lowell would be swayed by such nonsense. The list of reasons why Roxboro should wed her, most having to do with Cerise’s high opinion of herself, were laughable. Helen wanted to remind her charge that ladies of good family did not invite notorious dukes who are about to wed another woman, to call upon them. But her chastisement would fall on deaf ears.
Cerise retired to her rooms shortly after, smug and far too full of herself, after reminding Helen several times to discreetly send the note, lest Parker find out.
Parker would remain unaware of Cerise’s antics, as would Roxboro. As soon as Cerise left the drawing room and Helen heard the click of her bedroom door, the note was tossed into the fire. If Lord Galway ever found out Helen had written such tripe, and he would, or abetted Cerise in her behavior, Helen would besacked. No bonus for her labors these last few years would be forthcoming.
You make my mouth water.
She could still hear Roxboro’s words as she made her way up the stairs to her own room, ignoring the part where she was compared to drippings. Felt the press of his mouth on hers, the sensuous glide of his lips. Images of the duke, the hum along her skin, stayed with her even while composing Cerise’s stupid note. He had made her…feelfor the first time in her life and no matter if he was a libertine and a cad, there would be no forgetting Roxboro. Not for Helen.
The following morning, Cerise came down the stairs, regal as any queen. Dressed exquisitely, her hair absolute perfection, she perched on a chair by the window, anticipating Roxboro’s arrival.
But no one called. Not even Lowell, whom Helen had expected. Or Lady Hester.
