of you to send her that oriental tea. I had it made up especially for this afternoon so that you could taste some. An excellent choice, I must say. Quite stimulating.”
Her mother paused for a breath, which gave Helaine time to rush in with the “correct” introductions. “Lord Redhill, please allow me to introduce my mother, Mrs. Appleton.” Appleton was her maiden name, and Helaine hoped that by speaking it so clearly, the woman would remember that she was no longer Lady Chelmorton. Sadly, it had no obvious effect. Her mother simply smiled and sat down in the chair Helaine had just vacated. That, of course, forced Helaine to sit beside his lordship on the settee, which had no doubt been exactly her design.
“It is a lovely day, is it not, my lord?” her mother began as she waved for Helaine to serve the tea. “I vow the summer will be here before we know it. Why, Helaine was remarking on that just the other day.”
Lord Redhill answered exactly as one would expect, moving smoothly into the polite social banter one exchanges with a debutante’s mother. Helaine tried to participate. She even managed to comment once or twice, but the whole time she was on pins and needles praying that her mother didn’t slip up, that Lord Redhill remained blissfully ignorant of how bizarre it was to take tea with a dressmaker’s mother, and yet all the while secretly pleased that her mother could have this one moment of her former glory. One afternoon’s tea wherein she got to be the lady of the manor again. One short twenty minutes of what should have been her life.
And then, thank God, it was done. Her mother gasped in mock horror at the time and pushed to her feet. “I’m terribly sorry, my lord, but I must beg your indulgence. Penny has been upstairs with that rapscallion all this time, and she really needs help with the boy. Please, do excuse me.”
Lord Redhill stood and bowed over her hand. “It has been a pleasure, Mrs. Appleton. I hope that I may call more often.”
“Of course, of course! And now you really must excuse me. That boy, you know.” And off she went. She even left the door to the back staircase open just as any good chaperone would do if she were stepping out of a parlor for a moment.
Helaine released a sigh of relief. Her mother had enjoyed her moment of remembered glory and no harm had come of it. Or so she thought, until she turned to look back at Lord Redhill. She should have realized he was too intelligent to be fooled. She should have barred her mother from joining them, because one look at his thoughtful face told her that he was seconds from figuring it out. Not exactly who she was, but that her parentage was much more elevated than any dressmaker’s.
“My lord,” she began, not even knowing what she wanted to say but she had to distract him somehow.
He turned his chocolate eyes her way and all her words disappeared. He knew. She could see it in the way he kept his expression extremely neutral, and yet his eyes seemed to sparkle with a secret understanding. He didn’t say anything and neither did she. She was too busy fighting panic to formulate any thought at all. Finally he spoke, his words confirming her fears.
“Your mother is lovely, but sad. As if she has suffered a great loss.” He tilted his head. “If I might ask, what happened to your father?”
“Gone,” she said, the words choking her. “Many years now.”
“I’m sorry. How did he die?”
Helaine shook her head. “Not dead. Just gone. We don’t even know where. Just…gone.”
His eyes widened as he worked through the implications of that. “But what of his money? His employer or… or other income?”
Like from his lands? Unlike most earldoms, the land had not been entailed, as Helaine’s grandfather had been as irresponsible as her father. The paperwork had never been filed, which meant the land was free to sell. And it had been, shortly before Helaine’s fourteenth birthday. At the time, it had been great fun. They left the moldering old estate for a set of rooms in London. But without any income at all, the money steadily disappeared. A year after her father had disappeared, there was nothing left and creditors were banging on the door.
“We had nothing, my lord, except what I could manage here.”
His eyes roved the small shop, taking in the wallpaper that was beginning to yellow, the cheapness of the furnishing. He was likely remembering that the mirror in the back required resilvering and that she usually kept the very cheap tea for herself.
“You’ve had a difficult time of it, haven’t you?”
She looked at her hands, ashamed of the tears that burned her eyes. Things were going well for them. Lady Gwen’s order alone would see them through much of the winter, or so she hoped. This was not the time or place to become weepy.
She felt his hand caressing her cheek, the slow stroke of his thumb across a tear that had escaped. She pulled away.
“Forgive me,” she said. “I’m afraid it has been a long day.”
He did not pursue her, but neither did he pull away. He simply let his hand drop from her face to land on the settee near hers. Not touching, but the merest shift would bring them into contact.
“No,” he said softly. “Forgive me. I believe I have upset your life more than I realized. You have a business to run, and yet I am here taking up your time with tea and chats with your mother.”
Helaine released a sad snort at that statement. “As you can see, we are overflowing with customers right now. They are lined up around the block.” Obviously it was a lie. Sadly, they had no more appointments for another few days. It had all been a downward spiral the moment the fabric sellers had refused them credit. From then, they’d needed to request prepayment from their customers, which had many of them fleeing to other dressmakers. Helaine’s only hope was for Lady Gwen to look so excellent that she pulled in more customers from her references.
“Then let me pay you for your advice. Please, allow me to take you to dinner somewhere. We can talk as we eat.”
She shook her head. “My lord, that is not appropriate—”
“I can hardly discuss what I want with your mother upstairs and more people in the back likely to walk in at any moment.”
Strangely enough, Wendy was
“Please, I really could use your advice,” he said.
“I can’t imagine that I could be of any assistance. You were speaking about mining.”
He nodded. “Well, yes, this is rather unusual. Which is why I should like our discussion to be discreet.”
She looked at him then, studying his face for clues. Obviously this was yet another attempt at seduction, but in a most unusual manner. He had come discussing coal mining.
“A meal at an inn I know. Excellent fare, quiet conversation, that is all. I shall return you home by ten.”
“It hardly seems appropriate.”
“Of course it’s not appropriate. A future earl asking the advice of a dressmaker? Good God, I would be the laughingstock of London. If it got out, I would be banned from my clubs, even spit on in the streets.”
He sounded so aggrieved that she couldn’t keep from smiling. “My goodness. Put like that, it’s a wonder you did not appear at the door with a bag over your head.”
“I considered it, believe me. Though more because I thought you would bar the door to me than any other reason.”
“Yes, well, that was a reasonable fear. Fortunately for you, Tommy had a firm grip on your finger and dragged you inside against my will.”
“Thank God for Tommy.”
“Yes—”
“And thank God that you are an understanding sort, kind and compassionate. You will not tell a soul of what I am asking. And you will allow me to pay for your excellent advice with a meal of very hearty stew.”
“But—”
“Please, Helaine, do not make me beg. My grandfather is already rolling over in his grave as it is.”
It was his expression that finally swayed her. Part teasing, part desperate, and wholly delightful. He was not commanding her, he was charming her. And he had just given quite a gift to her mother in that twenty minutes of polite tea. The two combined made for a potent package. Plus, she had to admit to a great deal of curiosity about what advice he could possibly want from her. But she couldn’t give in yet.
“I have a great deal to do this evening,” she said. “I am learning to keep my own books, and that takes time
