“I hope…” Miss Venning stared at her cousin for a few moments before giving her head a tiny shake and returning her attention to Helena. “I hope our ball next week provides as much amusement as this evening.”
“I’m certain it will be spoken about for months afterward.” Helena rose and embraced Miss Venning.
“That would be lovely,” Miss Venning replied, returning her warm hug.
Standing, Miss Drummond scooted her body between Miss Venning and the table, blocking the view of her reticule, and said, “My brother may attend as well.”
“Truly?” Clapping her hands together, Miss Venning danced in a tiny circle. “I do hope Humphrey comes to visit. It’s been years since I’ve seen him.”
Miss Drummond stared at Helena, arched her eyebrows, and indicated her reticule with a flick of her eyes. “I’m expecting a letter from him tomorrow. He’s to confirm if he’ll be traveling to Wiltshire in the next few days.”
A soft gasp escaped from Helena. She ripped open her pouch’s drawstring, snatched up the two gold chains, and, in one swift moment, yanked her hand out of her reticule and stuffed the adornments into Miss Drummond’s, releasing the watch fobs.
Miss Venning grabbed her cousin’s arm and pulled Miss Drummond to her side. “You’ll let me know as soon as you hear from him.”
“I promise,” Miss Drummond replied, collecting her reticule from the table. “The moment I learn of his plans.”
Looping her arm through Miss Venning’s, Miss Drummond flashed Helena a brilliant smile, offered an elegant curtsy, and then escorted her cousin through the parlor toward the exit and their waiting coach.
Helena’s heart thrummed, her chest squeezing around the rapidly beating muscle. Humphrey couldn’t come here, not to Wiltshire, not where she’d built a new life for herself. She hoped Miss Drummond was lying, as she’d been given to doing in the past whenever it suited her needs, but Helena couldn’t risk being wrong. She couldn’t be one farthing short tonight.
She had to win.
“Tomorrow.” Miss Sinclair dove in front of Helena and grabbed her hands, squeezing tight.
“Pardon?” Helena asked, a tiny winkle carving its way across her forehead.
“We’re having tea tomorrow afternoon.” Her grip constricted, and she jerked Helena closer. “At four.”
“I would be delighted.” Unable to pull free from Miss Sinclair’s surprising iron grip, Helena offered her a reassuring smile. “I’ve never been to your home.”
“Oh!” Reddening, Miss Sinclair released Helena and took a step backward. “I meant for me to call upon you tomorrow for tea.”
“Is there something wrong with your house?” Helena asked, closing the distance between them and lowering her voice.
“My mother lives there.” Twisting away, Miss Sinclair covered her face with her hands, hung her head, and released a shuddering sob. “I’m a terrible daughter for saying such things.”
Helena reached out, her hand hovering over Miss Sinclair’s slight shoulder, but she didn’t touch the young woman, fearing the sudden contact would startle her.
“You are allowed to have an opinion,” Helena said, winding her fingers together. “Even when it doesn’t agree with what society deems appropriate.”
…and you’re forced to run from the only home you’ve known.
Dropping her arms, Miss Sinclair spun around and pushed her lower lip into a pout. “Not if I wish to find a suitable husband.”
“Any husband who demands his wife remain silent for the course of the marriage isn’t worthy of your time,” Helena replied, adding a succinct nod.
“A fine idea, but its pursuit may leave me penniless and alone.” Miss Sinclair’s eyes blinked rapidly, and she daubed her fingertips beneath her eyes. “Would you take me in if my circumstances worsened?”
“Absolutely!” Helena grabbed Miss Sinclair and enveloped her in a crushing embrace. “We will be a garden of wallflowers.”
Eyes shining, Miss Sinclair peeled herself away from Helena. “I cannot imagine a more perfect dream.”
“Are you certain you want to depart this evening?” Helena gestured toward the hallway. “There is an unclaimed chamber?—”
Miss Sinclair shook her head, peeking over at the riotous group gathered at the far end of the parlor. “Perhaps another time. Mother will be desperate without me.”
They both knew it was a lie, but Helena didn’t press the matter. Whatever reason Miss Sinclair had for declining the offer, she didn’t intend to share, and Helena possessed enough of her own secrets to know prying would only sour their burgeoning friendship.
