Julia Justiss (29 page)

Thank heavens for Lady Seagrave’s invitation. Only the width of an ocean between them could guarantee that she would keep her distance from Adam, let him lead the life his honor required.

When she tiptoed quietly into the entry, to her surprise, the butler directed her to Lady Seagrave’s book
room, saying the mistress had been up for several hours and was eager to meet with her. Trying to summon a pleasant expression, she knocked at the door and entered.

“Good morning, Helena,” Lady Seagrave said. “Let me finish these instructions and…” Her words trailed off and her welcoming smile dimmed as she examined Helena’s face. “Oh, my poor dear. Saying goodbye was difficult?”

“Yes,” Helena replied shortly.

“Then I hope my news will cheer you. When I visited Gavin’s office yesterday, I found one of his most experienced captains there. He was to rejoin his ship in Falmouth once the rest of his cargo arrived, but when I told him who would be traveling with me, he proposed we sail immediately. He has been with Gavin long enough to know that bringing him his beloved daughter a week sooner would be worth far more to Gavin than a thousand bottles of Spanish wine. We can set out today—if you are ready?”

Even the prospect of meeting her father could not lift her spirits. Still, she knew she ought to leave London without delay. “I am quite ready.”

“Excellent! I’ll have Stephen put your trunks in the coach.” She came over to pat Helena’s cheek, concern in her wise eyes. “Do not grieve, my sweet. Everything will turn out all right in the end.”

Helena managed a smile. But though she was about to embark on the sort of adventure she’d always dreamed about, she couldn’t see how anything would ever be right again.

’T
WAS WELL AFTER NOON
when Adam finally woke. He crossed his arms behind his head, his body satiated and his spirits bursting with excitement and optimism.

He couldn’t recall when he’d last stayed abed so late. But Helena had been so inventive, so marvelously eager, that he’d not wished to waste in sleep more than the time necessary to recover his vigor before loving her again.

He still couldn’t quite believe she’d had the boldness to seduce him. But she was Helena, that unique creature who marched to no rules but her own. And in truth, he hadn’t tried too hard to resist her. Not when she rose to greet him, her curves lushly outlined by that silk night rail, reminding him of their first night in the library. The embodiment of the fantasy he’d dreamed so often, her untutored, instinctive sensuality had touched him far more deeply than any practiced courtesan ever could.

Who was he, for the sake of a few lines scribbled in a parish register, to deny her what her passionate spirit yearned for? Especially not when he’d already decided that regardless of the stain on his honor or the
embarrassment to Priscilla, he simply couldn’t let Helena go.

The decision to terminate his engagement had been taking shape for a long time. But after witnessing Priscilla’s behavior at the musicale two nights ago, he had known that, even if he’d not fallen in love with Helena, he could not marry a lady who seemed ready to do anything—even forfeit his respect by betraying his trust—to discredit the girl she saw as her rival.

Though he would like to hear her explanation, his decision to end things between them was firm. And though their interview this afternoon was likely to be unpleasant, he was almost looking forward to it. For once it concluded, he meant to head directly to Lady Seagrave’s house.

He’d almost broken and blurted out his intentions this morning—until Helena had asked to become his mistress, reminding him before he blundered into the proposal he was not yet free to make of her determination never to marry.

He would have to court her carefully, cleverly, for he would be satisfied with nothing less than persuading her to become his bride. Given her unconventional nature, perhaps he could use some seduction of his own, he thought, happily envisioning such a scene. And after he’d rendered her replete with satisfaction, maybe she could be induced to accept his suit without a murmur.

Seduction aside, he knew he’d begun to win her trust. He need only continue showing her he was worthy of her
heart and hand…and she would be his, legally and forever.

A huge grin split his face. The London ton be damned. If they chose to shun him for jilting Priscilla and marrying his scandal of a bride, so be it. His immediate family, he knew, would support his choice. With them, Claygate and Helena, he’d have all he could wish to make him happy for the rest of his life.

Suddenly ravenous, he yanked the bellpull. He’d order a beefsteak and some ale, get his man to tog him out in his best, rid himself of Priscilla—and then seek out Helena.

Would she scan his body boldly when he called, smiling as they silently acknowledged what they’d shared in the night? Or, her mouth still swollen from his kisses, would she blush and look away with the maid’s shyness that was also part of the complex character he loved so much?

He couldn’t wait to see Helena again. He felt as giddy as one of the lovelorn characters in the silly novels he used to chide Charis for reading. Remembering how he’d dismissed her contention that love should be so much more than the mutual respect and admiration he’d been extolling, he had to laugh at what an ignorant ass he’d been.

He could only be grateful that Providence—and Helena—had intervened before he’d condemned himself to a marriage so much less than marriage was meant to be.

But the right marriage was not yet a certainty. Ready to begin making it so, he jumped from the bed.

A
S IT TURNED OUT
, A
DAM WAS
not forced to storm his betrothed’s bedchamber. Upon arriving at the Standish mansion, he found Priscilla already in the parlor.

For a moment he simply stared at her, wondering how he could have let a few favorable impressions, flattery and public opinion push him to a declaration before he’d truly reacquainted himself with her character. Or would her true character not have been revealed if she’d not found herself confronted with a rival she was determined to crush?

She returned his stare coolly, but as the seconds passed in silence, she at last looked away, her cheeks coloring. “Won’t you sit, Darnell?”

Still regarding her gravely, he took a seat.

“Well,” she said, evidently unable to bear the silence any longer. “I might suppose you would inquire about my health, as I’d not been feeling well yesterday.”

“And I might suppose that you would begin by explaining why you broke my trust. I explicitly remember obtaining your promise that you would not divulge Miss Lambarth’s misconduct to anyone. Yet you confided it to Lady Cordelia—and then abetted her in revealing it in such a way as to cause the maximum damage to my stepmother’s ward.”

“I never dreamed Cordelia would reveal it! I did try to make light of it, but Miss Lambarth herself confirmed its truth. You cannot blame me for that!”

“You can’t deny you have taken every opportunity of late to belittle her or to draw attention to her supposed deficiencies. That episode in the park, for instance. My groom tells me a thorn had been inserted
into her saddle blanket—and Francis had to be the one who planted it.”

“I had nothing to do with that!” she cried, confirming the truth of what he’d suspected. “Though I admit, when Francis encouraged me to invite her to the park, I may have hoped that she would appear to less advantage in the press of vehicles than she apparently is while riding that showy beast for her admirers in the early morning.”

“Even setting aside your flaunting of my trust, how could you be so petty to a girl who had none of the advantages of the cultivated upbringing you received?”

“I might have known you would defend
her
—just as you always do. Have you never considered how
I
must feel? I’ve seen the way men look at her. The way
you
look at her. Everyone notices the partiality you display for her company. Am I to endure people saying you mean to set up a mistress before we are even wed?”

Though she might have grounds for jealousy, that she would impugn his honor, especially given how tenaciously he’d had to fight to cling to it, infuriated him. “I would have expected you to ask
me
about it, not listen to malicious gossip…from your friend Lady Cordelia, perhaps?”

Priscilla tossed her head, her color heightening. “Is it idle gossip? I’m not disposed to offer my hand and fortune to a man who takes my money while he has eyes for no one but that wild, unprincipled creature.”

For a moment genuine curiosity tempered his anger. “Why
did
you bestow your hand on me?”

“You were the hero of my childhood! If I had
known then how…how dead to genteel behavior you can be, I would have not been so precipitous in accepting you!”

“Then we are in agreement at last. For I’ve discovered I have much more regard for that ‘wild, unprincipled creature,’ who tried her best to fit into a world she was never trained to enter, than I have for a jealous manipulator with a taste for sly cruelty.”

Priscilla gasped. “How…how dare you! She has cast her spell over you, the witch, with her outrageous gowns and shameless behavior. Has she lured you to her bed yet? Cordelia said she would! I just hope you’ll remember later, when you discover you’re sharing her with half the men of the ton, that I warned—”

In one quick move, Adam reached her side and pressed a hand over her mouth. “I think you’ve said quite enough,” he said softly, resisting the urge to grab her shoulders and shake her until her teeth rattled.

While she clawed at his hand, he continued, “We are agreed, then, on ending this mistake of an engagement? You have my leave to abuse my character to whoever will listen, but if I hear another ugly word about Helena Lambarth, I will know who originated it. And remember, I could spread abroad some facts about Francis that would not redound to his credit.”

He removed his hand and stepped back. “May I wish you good health and happiness in the future, Miss Standish?”

Fingers touching her lips, as if she could not believe what he’d just done, she simply gaped at him.

“A good day to you, then.” With a bow, feeling as if a tremendous weight had been lifted, Adam strode out.

S
O EXCITED HE WAS TEMPTED
to race all the way to North Audley Street, Adam could hardly contain his impatience as he tooled his curricle the short distance from Grosvenor Square. He tried to focus his euphoric mind on thinking of something clever to say when he saw her again. Something other than “I adore you! Marry me this minute,” which was all that filled his head at present.

Scarcely waiting until the vehicle halted at Lady Seagrave’s town house before jumping down, he took the stairs two at a time and pounded the knocker. Cutting off the footman who opened the door before the servant could speak, he said, “I must see Miss Lambarth at once! I’m Darnell,” he continued impatiently, offering the man his card. “I must see Miss Lambarth immediately on a family matter of utmost urgency.”

The footman glanced at his card and bowed. “If you will follow me to the parlor, my lord.”

After five minutes of pacing Lady Seagrave’s elegant salon, Adam was about to storm the stairs and initiate a room-to-room search when the door opened. His spirits soared, then plummeted as instead of her lithe form and lovely face, he saw another livried minion.

The man bowed. “I’m Chambers, Lady Seagrave’s butler. Thomas tells me you are seeking Miss Lambarth?”

“Yes,” Adam replied, ready to grind his teeth in frustration. “Are the ladies at home? As I told the footman, I must speak with Miss Lambarth at once.”

“I am sorry, my lord. The ladies have already gone.”

“Gone? Gone where?”

“I am not sure that I am at liberty to divulge—however,” he added quickly, his eyes widening in alarm as Adam stepped toward him with a growl, “since you are a family member, I suppose I can tell you that the ladies left this morning to sail to St. Kitts on a visit to Lady Seagrave’s son. My mistress told me not to expect her return for at least six months.”

“Six months!” Adam echoed, aghast. “They left…this morning, you say? From what port is the ship sailing?”

The butler shook his head. “I’m sorry, my lord, I don’t know. However, someone at Mr. Seagrave’s shipping office in the city might.”

“Where in the city?” Adam was out the door and heading for the stairs practically before the last syllables of the address had left the man’s lips.

A stop at Gavin’s office revealed that the packet taking the ladies to meet their ship in Falmouth set sail from Portsmouth. Scribbling a note to inform Lady Darnell and Charis of his plans, Adam hired a vehicle and left without even a change of clothes.

But though he pressed the hired teams to their limits and paused only as long as it took the ostlers to get a fresh team harnessed, quaffing a mug of ale as they worked, when he arrived at the dock in Portsmouth the following day, mud-spattered and weary, he found the ship’s berth
empty. Captain Blackman’s packet, one of the sailors from a nearby ship confirmed, had sailed on the morning tide.

S
IX WEEKS LATER
, H
ELENA SAT
fanning herself on a bench in her mother’s garden at Gavin Seagrave’s estate. The manor and its grounds, carved from the hills overlooking the harbor at St. Kitt’s, offered panoramic views of the sea below and the peak of Mt. Liamuiga in the distance. Her father and grandmother were in the house, planning tonight’s dinner to introduce her to more of the island residents.

The month-long crossing had been stormy. But except for the time she spent tending poor Lady Seagrave, who along with Nell and Dickon had been extremely unwell, Helena remained on deck, huddled on a cargo chest out of the way of the sailors, the howling wind and crashing seas well matching her mood. Her indifference to the pitching deck and torrents of rain led Captain Blackman to remark to Lady Seagrave later that Helena had taken to the sea so well, ’twas proof enough she was Gavin’s daughter.

During the journey, Captain Blackman had regaled her with tales of Gavin Seagrave’s exploits as a privateer. Recalling some of her own excursions at Lambarth in the dark of night, Helena realized she had quite a bit in common with her rogue of a father. The one warm spot in the mostly desolate landscape of her heart was the immediate connection that had formed between her and Gavin Seagrave the moment he’d greeted them in St. Kitts.

Despite having seen his portrait, it had been a shock to finally meet him, to see gazing back at her the same eyes she saw when she looked in the mirror. Lady Seagrave’s gasp when she saw the two of them side by side reinforced how striking was the resemblance.

In the two weeks since she’d arrived, she’d quickly grown fond of the man who had won her mother’s heart. But it was her own heartache that finally melted the last of the resentment she’d harbored for the lover she had always half blamed for luring her mother away from her.