Loving Helen (13 page)

“Spine straight. Don’t slouch,” Lady Sutherland barked. She walked around Helen, who stood perched on a chair while the dressmaker pinned the hem of the gown she was to wear to Grace’s wedding. The same day Mr. Preston had proposed to Grace, Lord Sutherland had proposed as well, and his offer she had accepted. In the week since the announcement of their decision to marry, Lady Sutherland had taken on the personality of a general preparing for war, determined to have everything and
everyone
exactly as she wished — or so it seemed to Helen. She’d born the particular brunt of Lady Sutherland’s rebukes, though Grace had endured her share as well.

“Do you want your gown to drag on the ground so that you trip and fall on it?” the dowager demanded. She stood with arms crossed in front of her, cheeks sucked in and lips puckered. “If you do not improve your posture, that is exactly what shall happen, and I shall be shamed in front of everyone who has come to see my son wed.”

“I’m sorry,” Helen murmured, ducking her head, then lifting it at once after realizing what she’d done.

If only Lady Sutherland understood that her criticisms make me want to shrink even more.

Helen wasn’t certain how Grace managed to tolerate her future mother-in-law with such … grace. But not only did her sister seem unfazed by Lady Sutherland’s remarks, she seemed to be developing an affection for the woman.

Remarkable, what love can do.

Apparently pleased with the dressmaker’s progress — or simply too put out to endure their company any longer — the dowager took her leave, snapping orders to the servants trailing behind her.

The door closed behind Lady Sutherland, and Helen shuddered, grateful to have escaped this latest confrontation with only a mild scolding.

“You’ll have to excuse her,” Grace called from across the room where she, too, stood on a stool as her gown was adjusted. “This is the last wedding she will ever plan, and doing so means a great deal to her.”

Helen merely nodded in response, not daring to say anything in front of the other women in the room.

Someone knocked once loudly. The door opened, and Christopher’s head appeared. “Still up here?”

“We’re getting close to being finished,” Grace said. “Another half hour, I’d think.”

Christopher pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped into the room. He looked from Grace to Helen as a grin spread across his face. “You two look quite fetching. I’m feeling rather grateful that you’re both attached, so I’ll not have to be watching out for you anymore. A brother does get tired of beating off the gentlemen who are after his sisters.”

“What do you mean we are
both
attached?” Grace asked, brows raised as she looked pointedly at Helen.

Helen shrugged. The only person she’d become attached to was little Beth.
And that has hardly resolved my difficulties regarding men.

“Lord Sutherland has just returned from London,” Christopher said, changing the subject, much to Helen’s relief.

“At last!” Grace exclaimed, as if the three and a half days he’d been gone had been thirty. She clasped her hands in front of her chin, only partially hiding a delighted smile that both warmed and wounded Helen.

I am glad she is so happy. I will miss her so much.
The past few days had been enough for Helen to realize she could not become a permanent resident at Sutherland Hall. It was too dark and dreary here, and she feared its other inhabitants too much.

“Tell him to come up — oh, wait. He cannot. My dress —” Grace looked down at the layers of lace flowing about her.

“Mademoiselle, hold still please,” the dressmaker admonished. Grace straightened and lowered her hands to her sides once more.

“He wishes to see all three of us, in his study,” Christopher said.

“Now?” Grace asked. She turned away from them as the dressmaker began work on the other side of her skirts.

“Ten minutes ago, actually,” Christopher said. “He made it sound rather urgent.”

“Is he in a mood?” Grace asked, her tone unconcerned.

“Perhaps,” Christopher said. “He’s serious, certainly.”

When is Lord Sutherland not in a mood?
Helen wondered. The only time she’d ever witnessed his smile was when he danced or conversed with Grace.

“He did not seem particularly jolly,” Christopher said. “But I’ll go down to meet him now. Come along when you can.”

“We will. And thank you,” Grace called.

“You should go too,” Helen said, fearful that a slow response from Grace might kindle whatever foul mood Lord Sutherland happened to be in. “Allow both seamstresses to finish your hem, and they can help me after you’ve gone.”

“Are you certain?” Grace asked, craning her neck, attempting to view Helen over her shoulder without moving too much. “You must be as tired of standing as I am.”

More,
Helen thought. It wasn’t her wedding or gown to be excited over. “I’ll be fine. Hurry now. Finish up and see your betrothed.”

“All right. Will you explain for me?” Grace asked.

Helen addressed the seamstresses. “S’il vous plaît, faites sa robe avant la mienne.”

Grace nodded her consent and sent Helen a look of gratitude.

“I could still teach you French, you know,” Helen offered, as the woman attending her moved across the room to do her bidding.

“I should probably let you.” Grace sighed wistfully. “My inability to communicate with Lady Sutherland’s seamstresses is yet one more fault she finds in me.”

Privately, Helen thought Lady Sutherland required much more than French lessons to improve
her
communication. Lessons in civility would be more fitting.

But to Grace she simply said, “You learned all you needed to at Grandfather’s. An earl has fallen in love with you, after all.”

“So he has …” Grace said, the same dreamy look upon her face that Helen had seen so frequently the past week. She tried, unsuccessfully, to keep her envy at bay.

French, music, painting, needlework … All the skills she possessed that Grace did not were not important to affairs of the heart. Yet Helen was happy for her sister and could think of no person more deserving of joy than Grace.

Helen waited patiently while the women finished the hem of Grace’s gown and helped her change.

“Merci,” Grace said when she was at last free of the delicate layers and dressed in her morning gown once more. “Thank you for waiting, sister,” she said to Helen as she practically ran from the room.

“You’re welcome,” Helen called. To the dressmakers she added, “Ne pressez vous pas avec ma robe.” She hoped they would take a very long time to finish her gown. In contrast to Grace, she was in no rush to leave the protection of this room. The past three days with Lord Sutherland away had been somewhat less stressful. Like his mother, he made Helen nervous, and she still wasn’t quite certain how to act around him. Grace seemed to suffer none of these concerns.
But then, she brings out the best in him.

Harrison would be here with the carriage soon, and Helen looked forward to a delightful afternoon with Beth. She sighed inwardly, longing for the peaceful, happy weeks she’d enjoyed as Mr. Preston’s guest.

She wondered how he was faring, as she had not seen him in the days since Grace had refused him. Even during visits with Beth he had been conspicuously absent. Helen wished she could inquire after Mr. Preston’s well-being without arousing suspicion. She should not have been privy to that intimate and heart-wrenching conversation between the two of them. Indeed, she wished she had not. She could not seem to forget the hurt she’d felt both for Mr. Preston and herself.

All too soon, her gown was finished, and she was being helped from it. When her own dress was back in place, Helen lingered, anxious about going downstairs. She stood at the window, staring off into the distance, imagining that she sat at her window in the guesthouse, overlooking Mr. Preston’s glorious gardens. She remembered the day they’d taken flowers to his wife’s grave and the tender words he’d spoken.
How would it be to be loved so very much?

Could Lord Sutherland possibly love Grace as much as Mr. Preston had loved Elizabeth? Strangely, Helen believed he did. The way he’d waltzed with Grace at his ball, the affectionate looks she caught passing between the two of them at dinner, and even the way his gruff manner seemed to soften when he was around her, all indicated the depth of his caring.

He loves her. And more than anything, I am glad of that.

Raised voices in the hallway pulled Helen from her reminiscing. The door banged open, and Grace rushed in, followed closely by Miranda.

“Oh, Helen.” Grace ran toward her, meeting her halfway across the room. “He is sending me away.” Tears burst forth as she buried her head on Helen’s shoulder.

“What? What’s this?” Helen held Grace close. “You must be mistaken. Calm yourself, and tell me what happened.” She patted her back and spoke soothingly as she had with Beth the day she’d fallen and skinned her knee playing in the garden.

Miranda wagged her finger at the door, as if someone stood there. “No good, that man,” she said, being uncharacteristically vocal. “Knew it the first time I saw him.”

Grace momentarily composed herself. “Do not speak ill of Lord Sutherland. He
is
a good man. And I love him so.” Self-control spent, she burst into tears once more. “First Grandfather’s inheritance. And now Father is dead.”

“What?” Helen leaned back, holding Grace away from her. “Father — our father is —”

Grace nodded. “Dead, Helen. He shall trouble us no more. And worse, Nicholas knows of our inheritance.”

“Of course he does,” Helen said. “You wrote to me some weeks ago that you had told him. He agreed to help us, remember?” She wondered suddenly if Lord Sutherland’s assistance was what had finally swayed the court in their favor.

After weeks of unsuccessful attempts to obtain their inheritance, Christopher had quite suddenly and unexpectedly been awarded the full amount Grandfather had bequeathed.

“But what has any of that to do with you — with your wedding?”
Father is dead.

“There is to be
no
wedding,” Grace said, her breath coming in quick, short gasps. “Nic —Lord Sutherland wishes to free me from our betrothal. He thinks it
best
if I leave.”

Christopher stood before the fireplace in Samuel’s drawing room. “I blame myself. I should not have answered Lord Sutherland’s questions. I should have —”

“Been less than honest?” Samuel suggested. He brought a hand to his mouth as he considered Grace’s brother and the current problem. Nicholas had cried off, ending his betrothal to Grace, causing her to do little
but
cry for the past day and a half. Samuel could not have been more surprised when the five of them — Christopher, Grace, and Helen, along with Miranda and Harrison — had shown up on his doorstep yesterday afternoon, seeking refuge.

For lack of a better term
, Samuel thought bitterly. It had taken a hefty dose of self-control to refrain from marching over to Sutherland Hall, grabbing Nicholas by the front of his coat, and shaking some sense into him. It required even greater restraint now to not walk into his own guest house, gather Grace in his arms, and offer comfort as well as renew the proposal he’d given her just two weeks earlier.

“She still won’t see me?” Samuel asked Helen.

“No.” Helen gave a slight shake of her head but did not look up from her task — sewing something tiny and intricate, it appeared. “She wishes to leave Yorkshire as soon as possible and asks continually about the properties you found for us.”

“She needs time, is all,” Samuel said, as much to himself as to the others.

“She needs
him
.” Christopher turned from the fire to look at them. “All the time in the world will not stop her from loving Nicholas Sutherland.”

“Love he doesn’t deserve,” Samuel muttered.

“Perhaps, but it isn’t really the point,” Christopher continued. “What matters is that I fix this. Grace deserves to be happy, and Lord Sutherland is who she would be happy with. We must find a way to reunite them.”

Samuel scoffed. “You obviously have no idea the kind of grudges Nicholas is capable of. Once he develops prejudice against something — or some
one —
his mind is not easily changed.”

“He isn’t angry with Grace.” Christopher strode to the cabinet and helped himself to a drink. “Rather, I believe he feels hurt — by the discovery of her meetings with you all those weeks — and now he distrusts her. He feels that, had she been given another choice first, she would not have chosen him.”

“She
was
given another choice,” Samuel said. “Two, even — myself or a remote life in the country — and she refused both.” He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated with both his former brother-in-law and now — perhaps — his brother-in-law to be as well.

If only I could get a moment alone with Grace.
He’d offer her comfort — and marriage.
I know I could make her happy.

“Lord Sutherland does not realize that you proposed before he did,” Christopher said. “Neither did I, or I should have made it very clear to him that she had refused.”