The Untamed Heiress

The library at Lambarth Castle had contained atlases of the globe. Surely there were maps of this city, as well. She made a mental note to obtain one on her next excursion.

For the trip to the Darnell town house, she’d put back on the stiff leather shoes she’d worn from Lambarth—which she intended to remove at the first opportunity and feed to the fire. And though the blue dress she now wore was softer and warmer than the rag she’d arrived in, she anticipated with great eagerness being able to enter an elegant shop like the ones they were now passing and order a whole wardrobe of shoes and gowns made to fit her alone.

The humiliation she had forbidden herself to feel when Lord Darnell first saw her, revulsion writ clear on his face, heated her now. She’d not see him again, she vowed, until she looked presentable. Or at least as presentable as someone of her thin, bony frame and plain face could.

Although the first purchase she made would be a comb and brush, she decided, fingering the twisted mat of hair beneath the straw bonnet. After deciding to declare his daughter “mad,” to further bolster that claim, her father had thrown her mother’s silver set off the cliffs.

With a bittersweet smile, she remembered her disappointment the first time she’d managed to escape the castle and make her way to Mad Sally’s hovel. She’d hoped to tidy herself, but found the old woman was as much a stranger to grooming as Helena had been forced to become.

Small wonder the villagers had stared when she stumbled into their midst a short time later.

Undoubtedly her aunt also possessed a tub in which she could bathe, as had Mama. Oh, to feel truly clean again! Whatever the cost of having servants bring up the necessary containers of heated water, she would pay gladly.

She was still imagining the delights of hot water and scented soap when Lord Darnell’s voice interrupted her.

“We’re arriving now in St. James Square,” he said as he signaled his horses to a walk. “Darnell House is third from the left on the northwest side.”

Despite her brave resolutions, Helena’s stomach dipped as she studied the brick building with its elegant inset pilasters. A moment later Lord Darnell pulled up the horses, a livried servant coming to their heads.

After a footman helped her to alight, Helena took the arm Lord Darnell offered her and ascended the steps to the front door—which was opened before they touched the handle by yet another servant attired in formal black dress.

“This is Harrison,” Lord Darnell said as the man bowed them in. “Without his supervision, our household would cease to function.”

“Thank you, my lord, and welcome, Miss Lambarth. The ladies are expecting you in the south parlor.”

While Helena marveled at the quantity of servants employed in the Darnell household, an older lady bearing a vague resemblance to Mama rushed into the hall. “Oh, Adam, I just couldn’t wait—”

Catching sight of her, the woman stopped in mid-phrase. As her gaze traveled down Helena from the cheap straw bonnet to the stiff leather shoes, her smile faded, her cheeks paled and her eyes widened.

“Lord in Heaven!” she exclaimed. Then she swayed, her eyes fluttering shut, and crumpled to the floor.

It was a scene out of Helena’s worst fears: Lord Darnell leaping to catch his stepmother before she hit the marble paving, Harrison calling out for assistance, an elegant young lady who must be Lord Darnell’s sister rushing into the hallway to stop short in dismay.

Perhaps the sister will swoon, too, Helena thought, trying to ignore the pain that lanced through her as her vague hopes of a warm reception dissolved like Lady Darnell’s welcoming smile.

Crossing her arms over her bosom, Helena looked at Adam, staggering under the burden of his semiconscious stepmother, and raised her eyebrows. “Are you still sure you wish to offer me a home, Lord Darnell?”

CHAPTER FIVE

THE YOUNG LADY, WHO HAD pale blond curls and her brother’s warm green eyes, turned to her. “Of course he does! I’m Charis, Lord Darnell’s sister. Let me escort you out of this confusion while Adam attends to Bellemere.”

There was no mistaking the sincerity of the girl’s tone. Prepared to offer a waspish reply, Helena was left with nothing to say. A gratitude she didn’t want to feel warmed her chest and angrily she blinked back tears.

Promising herself she would exit this dwelling as soon as possible and make her way back to Mr. Pendenning’s office, Helena let the girl escort her into the parlor.

“Please, will you not sit? Though I shouldn’t wonder at your wishing to bolt for the door, thinking you’d arrived at a house out of bedlam!”

There seeming nothing else to do; Helena took a chair.

“Let me apologize for so appalling a welcome,” Miss Darnell continued as she seated herself. “Lady Darnell has the sweetest of temperaments, but a very nervous disposition that sometimes overwhelms her—and she has been beside herself all afternoon with impatience for your arrival. Pray, do pardon her! When she recovers, she will be mortified at having made such a scene.”

Not sure what she should answer, Helena simply nodded.

“Should you like some tea? We didn’t know whether you would be hungry when you arrived.”

“Mr. Pendenning gave me refreshments at his office.”

“Are you tired, then? Adam said you had a very long journey—from Cornwall, was it? Oh, but here I am, chattering on when you must be wishing only to rest until dinner. Shall we go upstairs, then?”

Not sure she could bear an interview with the “recovered” Lady Darnell, Helena knew she should take her leave immediately. But the short nap at Mr. Pendenning’s office had refreshed her very little. The idea of having a place to temporarily lay her head held such appeal she was not able to refuse it.

“I should like to rest,” she admitted.

“Let me take you up straightaway, then. Adam is the most delightful of brothers,” Miss Darnell continued as they left the room and began mounting the stairs, “but he is a man.” Miss Darnell glanced back at Helena with a mischievous look. “I’ve often longed for a sister. Oh, I do hope we shall become great friends!”

Though Helena returned her gaze searchingly, once again she could read nothing but sincerity in the girl’s open manner and friendly smile. Too weary to worry over the matter any further, she entered the bedchamber to which Miss Darnell conducted her, conscious only of the clarion call of sleep.

“Ring the bell when you’re ready and a maid will escort you back downstairs,” Miss Darnell said as she pulled the curtains closed. “Now, rest well, for I warn you, when you join us again, I shall be full of questions!”

To which, Helena thought as she sank gratefully down on a bed as soft as Lord Darnell had promised, she was not sure she had any answers acceptable for the ears of a sheltered young maiden.

THOUGH HELENA HAD INTENDED only to close her eyes for a few moments, when she reached consciousness again, she was dismayed to find the room in almost total darkness. She sprang up, a little fear darting through her. If what happened in the next few minutes solidified her determination to leave, would she be able to find her way back through the tangle of streets to Mr. Pendenning’s office? Would anyone even be there at such an hour?

Before she could decide whether or not to tug the bellpull, her chamber door opened and a maid peeped in.

Spotting Helena standing by the bed, the girl bobbed a curtsey. “Begging your pardon, miss, but mistress wished me to see if you was awake yet. The ladies be waiting for you downstairs. If ye be ready, I’ll show you the way.”

“Mistress” presumably being Lady Darnell, Helena hesitated. She might as well get the meeting over with. If ’twas unpleasant…well, she’d already determined to leave. But she would do so properly, after expressing her gratitude to Mama’s cousin for her courtesy—not sneaking out like a prisoner breaking parole.

Mentally armoring herself for the confrontation, Helena followed, then paused on the threshold while the girl announced her. Taking a deep breath, she walked in.

She found Charis Darnell sitting on the sofa beside her mother’s cousin. Before Helena could utter a word, Lady Darnell jumped up and hurried to her.

“My dear Helena, please forgive me! My wretched nerves. I had worked myself into such a state waiting for Adam to return with you that when I perceived you at last, such a look of poor Diana about you, I was quite overcome!” Lady Darnell held out her hands. “Please tell me you’ll pardon an old woman’s foolishness and let us start over.”

Hesitantly, Helena offered her hands. To her surprise, the woman seized them and pulled her into a hug.

The soft brush of blond curls against her cheek…a scent of roses…the warmth of a rounded female form holding her close…All these touched something deep within her, flooding her with memories of a loving embrace.

After a moment of shocked surprise, Helena returned the pressure of the older woman’s arms. She clung fiercely to Lady Darnell, the contact fulfilling a craving for closeness she was only just realizing she possessed.

After several moments Lady Darnell loosened her grip and moved Helena to arm’s length, gazing with loving intensity at her face. “You do have the look of Diana about you,” she said softly.

“Do I? I always thought I looked nothing like her. I am so dark and she was fair, like you.”

“’Tis not so much coloring as in the way you carry yourself, your profile, the tilt of your chin.”

Still not quite sure she dared believe it, Helena said, “You do want me to live with you, Lady Darnell?”