Page 74 of From Rakes to Riches

“I didn’t imagine anything at all!” But she should have. Steeple Cross was only an hour’s carriage ride from Hawke’s Run, and hence it was part of the same neighborhood. She should have known her sister and Lord Cross would appear tonight.

“Quite an oversight on your part, I should say, but perhaps you were distracted on account of your being in love with Lord Hawke. Love tends to sweep all before it, doesn’t it?” Juliet brushed past Helena, entered the stables and plopped herself down on top of a hay bale. “Sit, Helena.” She nodded at the bale beside hers.

“I’m not a hunting dog,” Helena muttered crossly, but a childhood spent doing as her elder sisters bid her made her sit down beside Juliet, hay tickling her backside. “You’ll ruin your gown, you know.”

Juliet didn’t reply, but regarded her in silence just long enough to make Helena squirm before at last letting out a long sigh. “I expected to find you in the ballroom this evening, Helena.”

“I don’t know why you should have. I’m thegoverness, Juliet, not the countess. Governesses don’t attend balls.”

“I did not expect,” Juliet went on, ignoring Helena’s comment, “to find you hiding behind a screen on the balcony with Ryan and Etienne, gazing down at Lord Hawke and looking as if you were about to burst into tears.”

“Yousawus?” But she’d taken such care to make certain they were out of sight! Dear God, had Lord Hawke seen them, as well?

“I did, yes, but I don’t think anyone else did. I only spotted you because I knew to look there. You remember the balls at Hambleden Manor, don’t you?”

“I do, yes.” Whenever their parents used to have balls at home, she, Juliet and Phee would hide on the balcony and spy on the proceedings, marveling at the pretty silk gowns and the handsome gentlemen. Of course, that had been before their mother’s scandal, back when they’d still had friends. “And Iwasn’tabout to burst into tears.”

Juliet sat quietly, toying with the heavy stones around her neck. When she did speak, her voice was far gentler than it had been before. “You act as if you think you can fool me, Helena. Do you suppose I can’t tell when your heart is breaking? I’m your sister, dearest. I only had to glance at you to see it. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Helena slumped atop her hay bale, all her righteous anger draining from her in an instant, leaving her shaking. There was no hiding anything from Juliet, or any of her sisters. There never had been. “I didn’t tell you because it doesn’t matter, Juliet. Lord Hawke is…well, he’s Lord Hawke, isn’t he? He’s an earl, and I’m a governess, not to mention one of the scandalous Templeton sisters.”

“My goodness, Helena, with two sisters so recently married to earls, I would think you’d understand by now that such things as titles and fortunes and scandals are no match for love.”

“I might be a royal heiress with a spotless reputation, Juliet, and it wouldn’t make any difference. Have you forgotten I’m leaving Hawke’s Run? One of us has to return to Hambleden Manor, for Phee’s sake.”

“I asked you to return to HerefordshirebeforeI knew you were in love with Lord Hawke, Helena. It changes everything. Surely, you must see that? We’ll think of something else, some other way to?—”

“There isn’t another way. We’ve already been over this, and in any case, you forget one thing, Juliet.” Tears threatened, but she held them back and met her sister’s eyes. “I may be in love with Lord Hawke, buthe’snot in love withme.”

“That remains to be seen. He’s not in love with Lady Anne, if that’s what you’re thinking. Anyone can see they’re friends only, nothing more.”

Not anyone. Helena couldn’t see it. What she saw was two people whose mutual fondness for each other was a kiss away from blossoming into love. “I hope you’re wrong. Ryan and Etienne need a mother, and Adrian—Lord Hawke—is far more likely to choose Hawke’s Run over London if he marries Lady Anne.”

Juliet’s gaze sharpened. “Ah, now I see this for what it is. You’re matchmaking Lord Hawke and Lady Anne!”

“What if I am? You needn’t sound so scandalized about it. You dabbled in matchmaking yourself, if you recall.”

“Oh, I recall it. Ifyourecall, I was meant to go to London and marry Lord Melrose, only he took one look at Emmeline and fell madly in love with her, and I fell madly in love with Miles, the very last man in England any of us would have considered a proper match for me.” Juliet reached between them and took Helena’s hand. “Love can’t be managed, dearest. It has its own way in the end.”

Perhaps it did, but so did fate, and by the way Adrian and Lady Anne had gazed at each other tonight, it seemed fate had already made up her mind.

Gently, Helena drew her hand from Juliet’s and rose from her hay bale. “There’s nothing to be done, Juliet. Now, if you’ll pardon me, I’ve a pregnant cat to see to before I take myself off to bed.”

She didn’t wait for Juliet’s answer, but one came anyway, after Juliet had left the stables and closed the door behind her.“Nothing to be done, indeed. Very well, Helena, you stubborn thing. I’ll just have to see to this myself, won’t I?”

A thousand yearshad passed since this ball began, one moment crawling after the next, and eternity unfolding only to reveal another eternity looming behind it.

It was rather like he’d always imagined hell to be. God knew it was hot enough in here to be mistaken for hell, and surely there was no punishment more severe than endless quadrilles?

The supper had been served rather late—the prawns were exquisite, so he’d taken a few for Hecate—but none of the guests seemed at all inclined to go home to their beds. Some of the more sedate among the company had adjourned to the card room, while the younger people had all rushed back to the ballroom for more dancing and flirting.

Did all balls drag on as interminably as this one? Why wouldn’t everyone just go home, for God’s sake?

But he seemed to be the only person in the ballroom who wished the festivities to be over. He’d hardly seen Ryan and Etienne at all during the past few days of furious fete preparations, and wanted nothing more at the moment than to see their flushed, sleeping faces.

And then there was Helena.

He’d embarked on this evening wishing for her, had spent every moment since the first dance thinking of her, and it seemed he was to end the evening just as he’d begun it—pining for her like a besotted schoolboy. The idea of going to his bed tonight without seeing her was unbearable, but unless he intended to storm her bedchamber, there wasn’t much…

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