The Duke of Nothing (The 1797 Club Book 5) Page 9

  Charity slid her fork along her empty plate. “I don’t know why I’d celebrate. The Duke of Sheffield showed no interest in me at his sister’s party last week. And his friend Tyndale is quite handsome, but he seemed more enamored of Helena.”

  Helena jolted at the very unfair accusation. “I promise you, Charity, Tyndale was only being polite to me. He has no interest whatsoever.”

  Her uncle glared at her. “Charity is correct, though, that you did draw the attention of the Duke of Tyndale for far too long. We shall go, Charity, for Sheffield is too important to turn down, and who knows who else shall be there for you to exhibit to.”

  Helena’s heart leapt. Go to Baldwin’s country estate? A week in his company? The thought was both thrilling and heartbreaking after their last encounter. And yet she longed to see him. They had not been at any of the same events in the seven days since their kiss, and she wanted to reach out to him. To ask him if he regretted his confession to her in the garden. To find out if she could help him in any way, even if she could never have anything more than a friendship with him.

  “Helena, you shall not attend,” her uncle said, his harsh tone interrupting her thoughts.

  She jerked her gaze to him in shock. “What? Uncle, you cannot mean that! I’m Charity’s companion, this is why you brought—”

  “Yes, but in the time we’ve been here you have only proven your own mother and father correct. You are becoming a liability, and I think you must be sent home before you ruin things for Charity as you ruined them for yourself.”

  Helena shoved her hands into her lap, praying that the hot tears that stung her eyes would not fall. Her uncle was so wrong about his accusations on her character, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except that he had decided she was unworthy and that was the end of it.

  “Papa!” Charity said, shaking her head. “You cannot send Helena home.”

  Helena glanced at her in surprise. Charity, defending her? That would be something new.

  “And why not?” Uncle Peter blustered.

  Charity folded her arms. “Ladies of style and grace need a companion. How humiliating would it be for me to have to explain we sent mine home? You don’t want me to look a fool do you? Helena will behave, especially now that she knows how serious you are.”

  Helena’s cheeks burned, but she said nothing as Uncle Peter pondered Charity’s words. Finally he nodded. “Paying a companion would be a waste of money at any rate. Fine, Helena, you shall stay and attend with us. But you will keep your mind focused on your duties. Is that clear?”

  Helena pushed at the stubborn streak in her. The one that wanted to scream at her uncle about what had really happened to cause her fall. About her value as a person. But she couldn’t do those things. Anything she said would fall on deaf ears anyway. He cared nothing for her.

  She straightened her shoulders and swallowed her pride. “Of course. I…apologize for anything untoward you think I’ve done. My focus is entirely on Charity. I will behave as you expect me to do.”

  He nodded and then turned to Charity to talk about landing dukes. Helena settled back in her chair with a deep sigh. Her uncle and cousin had no idea exactly how right she had to make her mind if she were going into Baldwin’s space.

  It would be a challenge like no other. One she had to pass in order to survive.

  CHAPTER TEN

  There had never been a week that passed so slowly, especially the final two days, which Helena had spent in the carriage, listening to her uncle drone on endlessly. But now as the vehicle rolled up the long, winding lanes of Baldwin’s estate, she couldn’t help but thrill. She and Charity stared out the window together, her cousin commenting on the pretty trees that lined the lane.

  But when the carriage turned, they both gasped, for there was Baldwin’s estate house, rising up before them. Not just a house, though, a castle! With high stone walls and turrets to make it complete. It was everything out of Arthurian legends that had enthralled her as a child in America.

  Whoever Baldwin married would be a princess, indeed, assuming she brought enough coin to keep the kingdom afloat.

  “He must be rolling in blunt,” Charity laughed.

  Helena pursed her lips with displeasure. That was the vision Baldwin wished to put forth, of course—that his situation was safe and secure. She knew better.

  “He won’t even need your money, Papa,” Charity continued with a giggle.

  Uncle Peter grunted and his expression was dark and grumpy, as usual. “He’ll take it, I’m sure. Now get ready, they’re coming to open the doors.”

  Helena held back, trying to calm her racing heart, as Baldwin’s servants opened the doors and helped down Charity and her father. Of course, the two of them started up the stairs without waiting for her, making clear once more her position in the family. Helena sighed and smiled at the footman who assisted her. Finally, she allowed herself to look up at the landing on the house.

  Baldwin was there, standing with his mother, Charlotte and the Duke of Donburrow. He was talking to her uncle and Charity, but he glanced down at her as she slowly mounted the stairs, and his dark eyes flowed over her until she felt warm from her head to her toes.

  Seeing him was just as powerful as she feared it would be. It brought back all the feelings she’d been telling herself she could stifle. And all the memories of the trust he’d put in her and the pain she’d seen during his desperate confession.

  She forced a smile in the hopes that it would ease any concerns he had about giving her his secrets. She would protect them well.

  As her uncle and cousin stepped away to say hello to the duchess, Baldwin came down to meet her. “Hello,” he said softly.

  She smiled again, but this time it felt so very much weaker. It was impossible to be strong when he was standing right there and he was so damned beautiful.

  “Your Grace,” she said. “Your home is lovely.”

  He glanced up and she saw that flicker of trouble cross his expression. Only now she knew exactly why he feared. Why he hesitated. Why he frowned so often.

  “Thank you, Helena,” he replied at last. “I’m glad you could come.”

  “I’m glad to be here,” she assured him.

  She wanted to take his hand. Her own actually twitched like it would move of its own accord, and she had to fist it at her side to keep that from happening. He never moved, just stood looking at her. The moment stretched between them, just a bit too long, and she forced herself to step away.

  “Helena!” Charlotte called out with a wide smile.

  Helena glanced at Baldwin one last time, then moved toward her friend. She was surprised that Charlotte pulled her in for a hug and Ewan squeezed her hand gently as they chatted. But before she could get too involved with them, Uncle Peter barked, “Helena, come along. Your cousin needs your help!”

  “I’m sorry, excuse me,” she muttered with a blush, then scurried up the stairs to fall in step beside Charity. She didn’t dare look back at either Charlotte or Baldwin. She feared they’d both be watching her. One with pity or even judgment. One with heat.

  She could bear neither in that moment.

  The servants took them to the top of the stairs and down the hall. Uncle Peter was taken to one room, while Charity and Helena were taken to another. As the butler drew the door open, Helena gasped. It was beautiful, with a view that looked over the expansive garden and a huge four-poster bed.

  “Fit for a queen,” Charity giggled as Walker excused himself and left them alone for a moment. She moved to the bed and flopped herself across the intricately stitched coverlet. “Or a duchess. This must be the nicest room in the house—I hope it means he likes me more than he’s let on.”

  Helena shifted. It truly was a beautiful space. There were so many greens in the tasteful décor all around them. It was lovely and soothing.

  “Or maybe it’s you he likes.”

  Helena froze at the window, staring out into the garden. She swallowed hard, trying
to make her expression serene as she looked back at her cousin at last. “I have no idea what you are talking about. The Duke of Sheffield like me?”

  Charity folded her arms. “I haven’t said anything, but I saw you two sneak out together from the Donburrow party last week.”

  Helena’s lips parted. That no one had seemed to notice their brief absence had been the greatest of reliefs. She’d never known Charity to be discreet about anything, so she was shocked her cousin had kept that secret.

  It could not bode well.

  “Add that to when I found you alone in his home in London,” Charity continued, ticking evidence of Helena’s sins off on her fingers. “Then today when you came up the stairs and he met you? I saw some kind of…connection between you.”

  Helena’s heart throbbed. The last thing she needed was for Charity to report whatever she believed to her father. He’d already threatened Helena once. She didn’t need more of the same.

  “I’m certain you’re seeing things. The man is polite, that is all.” Helena’s tone was breathless even though she didn’t want it to be.

  Her cousin moved on her, bright eyes flashing with annoyance. “As Papa said so many times, you’re here for me. I defended you before, but I won’t do it again if you insist on putting yourself where you don’t belong.”

  Helena swallowed. “Of course.”

  Charity bobbed her head with another glare. “I see there’s a connecting room here. It’s likely to my sitting room. If there is a settee there, you can sleep on it. I don’t feel like sharing the big bed. Now I intend to take a nap until my things arrive and then you can help me pick my clothes for the supper tonight.”

  Helena sighed and backed from the room into the connecting sitting room. “Very well.”

  She shut the door and stuck out her tongue at it the way she wished she could do to her cousin’s face. But she couldn’t. She stomped to the settee that would apparently be her bed and flopped down on it. At least it was comfortable and it was angled so she could see out the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked another fine view of Baldwin’s gardens.

  Her mind turned as she lay there looking at that wonderful sea of green. In a way, Charity was right. Helena had no right to connect with a duke who had made it clear he could not pursue her, even if they both felt the connection between them.

  But that didn’t mean the connection melted away. She’d felt it in Baldwin’s stare, in the way he’d come to her on the stairs. In the way her body had responded to him even when she didn’t want it to do so.

  And it also didn’t mean that she didn’t still feel a driving desire to offer him support. Thanks to how jealously he’d guarded his secrets from everyone else in his life, she was likely the only one he could turn to.

  So despite her cousin’s warnings and her uncle’s bluster, she knew that at some point during this weeklong gathering, she was going to reach out to Baldwin. As a friend and a confidante.

  And there was nothing they could do to stop her.

  All Baldwin had to do was stay away from Helena. He’d been reminding himself of that fact since their awkward exchange on the landing, when he’d very nearly caught her in his arms and kissed her until she couldn’t breathe. That moment of sharp desire had been a reminder that he couldn’t control himself.

  So avoidance was the key.

  Except now, as he stood in his ballroom, surrounded by spinning couples and longtime friends, his vow seemed impossible to keep. Helena was everywhere. When he looked into the crowd, he found her standing with her cousin. Or worse, with his friends, where she laughed and smiled and looked like she fit perfectly.

  When he turned to speak to a servant, there she was, collecting drinks for her horrible family, who treated her like she was less than a lady.

  When he walked through the crowd, he had to dodge her, stepping out of his way to stay out of hers.

  She was everywhere, both physically and in his addled mind, and there seemed to be nothing he could do to lessen the pulsing desire he felt for her. Even as he danced with each and every prospect his mother had brought here for him, the only thing he thought about when they were in his arms was that not a one of them was Helena Monroe.

  “I think Charity Shephard is next.”

  He jumped, for he had not realized his mother had approached him as he stood, staring off toward Helena and brooding about the lack of fairness in this bloody situation.

  “Charity?” he repeated as he glanced at the duchess.

  She tilted her head in confusion. “You’ve danced with all the rest. Charity is the last of the prospects.”

  His stomach turned. Not only did he not particularly like Charity Shephard after watching how she treated Helena, but the idea of pursuing her was the worst thing he had ever pondered. What would he do, marry Charity and have Helena come into his home as her companion? Spend his life in the arms of one woman while the one he really wanted traipsed through his halls being…her?

  Fifty thousand pounds would create more problems than it solved at that point.

  But there was no saying that to his mother, so he bobbed his head. “Of course. It looks like she’s just finishing a turn with the Earl of Grifford at present. Once they have finished, I will see if her dance card is open for the next.”

  She reached out to catch his arm as he began to walk away, and he turned his attention back to her. “You are pale,” she said softly. “Is everything well? Did you like any of the young ladies?”

  He almost laughed, but he bit it back and tried to put a serene expression on his face. “Certainly they are all lovely ladies.”

  Her expression pinched, like she didn’t like that vague praise, but she released him so he could go to the last on his hated list.

  The song ended, and Charity and her partner left the floor together. He watched as the earl bowed over her hand. To his surprise, she actually tittered as she said farewell to him. But at last she was left standing alone. He was grateful to have caught her between dances. Her father was even worse than she was, a blustering fool who thought his money gave him class when it certainly did not. Baldwin had no desire to talk to him.

  She smiled as he approached, and there was a moment when he could admit she was lovely. She had blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Her gown was perfection, not too revealing but still alluring.

  Yes, she would make a pretty piece on any man’s arm. And with her fortune to boot, a hundred mercenaries would soon be knocking at her door.

  Baldwin hated that he had to be one of them.

  “Good evening, Miss Shephard,” he said with a stiff bow as he reached her side.

  “Your Grace,” she said with a coy smile. There was nothing real about it—it was all put on for a show. Unlike Helena, who was only real. “I wondered when you would seek me out.”

  He blinked at the playful forwardness of her words. “Did you?”

  “I saw that you have danced with all the eligible young ladies in the room.”

  He frowned. Well, he could add observant to this young woman’s list of qualities, such as they were. Something he’d have to be aware of.

  “I have saved the best for last, it seems,” he said, and hated how untrue the words sounded. But Charity liked them, for she blushed. “Is the next song open on your dance card?”

  She nodded, and took his arm to allow him to lead her to their places. He stared at her as they waited and others took the floor. He could think of nothing to say to this woman. Nothing he wanted to know.

  It was beastly of him, of course, not to give a damn. But how could he dare when he knew what would happen if Charity became the focused object of his pursuit?

  The music swelled and he let out a soft breath. A damned waltz. Of course it was. She stepped up into his embrace and they began to turn around the floor in what felt far too close proximity.

  “Your home is lovely,” she said, pulling him from his thoughts and reminding him once again how rude he was being.

  “Thank yo
u,” he said.

  “I can’t imagine you prefer it to London, though,” she continued.

  He shrugged. “They both have their advantages.”

  She laughed. “Do they? London is so exciting. There is always some adventure to be had there, some new shop to find or thing to see.”

  “I suppose,” he said. Honestly, he had not thought of London in that way in a very long time. It was a place where creditors could show up on one’s doors without warning and make a scene that would someday bring everything down around him.

  “My father has always been obsessed with this country,” she continued. “He liked your side better in the revolution, though he never talks about it much at home, for obvious reasons.”

  “Yes, I assume that would have him counted as a traitor,” Baldwin drawled.

  She didn’t seem to take offense. “Oh, yes, he must keep his sentiments to himself. Whisper them to others who think as he does while he plays patriot in public so that he can continue to draw in funds.”

  Baldwin’s stomach turned at such duplicity. But then, he was hardly better. All that he was doing was false, meant to keep his family afloat.

  Charity was oblivious to his feelings and continued, “When he said he was bringing us here for a Season, I was hesitant, but I suppose I’m glad now. It got Helena and me out of boring old Boston!”

  Baldwin glanced down at her. He had not wanted to dance with her, but now he saw a unique opportunity in doing so. He could ask her questions and find out more about Helena.

  “It must be helpful to have a companion in your travels,” he suggested carefully.

  “I suppose,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Although Helena was not much of a companion on the trip. She spent most of the crossing casting up her accounts on the prow of the boat.”

  Baldwin stifled a smile at that tidbit. Though he didn’t like to hear of her suffering, he could file that information away about her. No boats.