An Exquisite Marriage by Darcie Wilde

Now. What do you think of that?”
    â€œI think a man must have very good reasons for turning down the offer of such a post,” said Helene.
    â€œWhat reasons could they be? I would like to know.”
    â€œMy dear . . .” began Rutherford.
    â€œI’m afraid you must ask Lord Windford,” Helene told her. “He has not taken me into his confidence.”
    â€œHas he not?” said Lady Rutherford archly. “A man who will carry an umbrella for a lady will also frequently carry a confidence.”
    It was not possible she was blushing. She did not blush. Ever. “Alas, our friendship has not progressed that far.”
    â€œWell.” Lady Rutherford smiled archly, “I’m sure that he’s entirely to blame for that.”
    Fortunately, after this, Lord Rutherford was able to lead the conversation away from personal topics, and the four of them enjoyed polite and blessedly intelligent conversation about current events and the prospects of the most recent reform bills. As a result, it did not feel long at all before the Rutherfords’ carriage pulled up in front of No. 48.
    â€œWell, good-bye, Lady Helene,” said Lady Rutherford as the driver opened the door. “It has been most interesting meeting you. Tell me, are you at home at all this next week?”
    â€œI’m afraid not, Lady Rutherford.” She was certainly not going to attempt to entertain Lady Rutherford, or anyone else, at Anandale House. “However, I shall surely be calling on Mrs. Kearsely and Lady Adele this Friday around three. Perhaps our paths might cross there?”
    â€œYes, indeed. I have been meaning to call on Mrs. Kearsely. I shall send round my card.”
    They made their farewells, and the Rutherfords drove away, leaving Helene and Marcus facing each other in front of Miss Sewell’s stoop.
    â€œI feel I should apologize for Lady Rutherford,” said Marcus. “Being drawn into speculation about my behaviors can’t have been comfortable.”
    Not as uncomfortable as seeing her speculate on our behaviors together.
Helene shrugged. “I’ve endured worse.”
    â€œDoes that make it easier?”
    â€œA little.” She paused. She should say good-bye. She should not be standing here in the street with this man. Someone might see, for one thing. For another, it was cold, and her coat was not as thick as it should be. But he had walked her a long way, and had been the means of her introduction to a lady who might prove very useful, and the end of his nose was quite red with the cold, and . . . and . . .
    And she did not want to say good-bye. This was irrational, and it was dangerous. As dangerous as dancing. As dangerous as staring, which was what she was doing now.
    It also seemed she wasn’t going to stop herself.
    â€œLord Windford, this is not entirely proper, as my chaperone is not home, but would you care to come in for a cup of coffee?” Not only was Miss Sewell not at home, but Madelene was off sitting for Lord Benedict for the portrait they had commissioned, and Adele was at the modiste’s. They would be quite alone inside for at least another hour.
    Dangerous, Helene, and foolish beyond words.
    Lord Windford cocked his head toward the house. “Miss Sewell isn’t home, and you can still invite me in?”
    â€œWe’ve all been given keys and permission to treat the house as our own.”
    â€œHave you, b’gahd?” he murmured. “What interesting ideas about chaperonage this lady has.”
    â€œI promise you I am keeping a strict eye on your sister. None of us can afford a scandal.”
    â€œWell,” he said with a smile, “as long as you are keeping an eye on things, Lady Helene, I will accept with pleasure.”
    Warmth pooled in Helene’s chest as he followed her up the steps. She did her best to ignore it.
    Fortunately, Miss Sewell’s housekeeper had