Page 68 of The Rise of a Forsaken Lady
Lady Chatham’s home was a four-story brick townhouse with tended hedges and cut grass in front. They were received by an ancient butler who though stooped and bent at the shoulders had eyes as sharp as a hawk.
He had taken her card a moment ago, leaving her, Martha and Heath to linger in the richly-furnished drawing room. While she and Martha sat, Heath stood stiffly, with his hands clasped behind his back and head shifting from side to side with an analytical eye, surveying the room.
“Lady Cheltenham will see you now, Lady Dawson,” the Butler bowed just as the lady glided into the room. She and Martha stood and greeted her.
Helena smiled and sat on the snow-white chaise longue, the skirts of her tulle blue dress fluttering gracefully around her like petals in the wind. “Lady Penelope, how nice to see you.”
Taking in a shuddering breath, Penelope shoved the real reason she had come to discuss aside, introducing Martha and Mr. Moore and began with safe topics like the recent books she had read and the local balls coming up.
Lady Cheltenham spoke easily for a while before she cocked her head to the side, “Lady Penelope, would you accompany me for a moment?”
With a quick confirming look to Martha and Heath, she stood and followed Helena out of the room. They came to a stop a few rooms away from the drawing room and entered a small room where Helena tugged her to a nearby seat. “So, what are you truly here about?”
Penelope would have wanted to laugh that the lady had seen right through her but opted to shake her head instead. “I…I had come to ask you about Edward. I know you have better prospects when it comes to money and status but…Edward truly loves you, Helena. Mayhap it’s the romantic in me that thinks you cannot swap those things for true happiness, and I know you’d find it with Edward.”
Helena’s blue eyes dimmed. “I know but…I cannot go against my parents. Marrying beneath the level they want from me would be equal to eloping. They would never forgive me.”
“But…?”
“But what?” Helena asked.
“But what about love?” Penelope pressed. “Would they not relent for something as precious as that?”
“I don’t know if my parents believe in the validity of a love match,” Helena said wryly.
Sitting back and nibbling on her lip, Penelope wondered what she could do to press the issue but didn’t find a way to do so. She looked quickly at Helena, saw a patient look in her eyes and felt, inordinately, that the lady was…waiting? Had she read that correctly? Was she waiting and for what? Moreover, how could anyone not see the soundness of a love match?
“It's much easier to settle for money and being taken care of,” Helena said with dry mirth. It was only then Penelope realized she had spoken it out loud and promptly blushed.
Helena then leaned forward. “Do you know what love is, Penelope, dear?”
“Apart from what I’ve seen in books, no,” she replied ashamedly.
“You should look closer than that,” Helena smiled, “over your shoulder, close.”
Penelope startled, over my shoulder…what on earth does she mean by that? Then she remembered, Heath had stood over her shoulder. Had he looked at her that way? That was not known of him, his face was normally expressionless.
“W-what do you mean?”
“Mr. Moore,” Helena said while sitting back. “I saw it when he looks at you. You may not know it, but he is very…protective of you. I don’t know what you did, but you have earned his loyalty.”
How had the conversation spun to her after she had come to speak about Helena and Edward? “Thank you?”
Helena’s musical laugh mollified her anxiety. She had not expected Heath to come up in the conversation, but Helena had. “He is uncommonly handsome for a footman though a good part of their job requirement is to be so.”
“Do you not see it?” Helena‘s eyebrows were up. “He looks at you with such tenderness in his eyes and a fierce protectiveness too.”
Squirming in her seat, Penelope tried to form words, any words to stop Helena’s almost Oracle-insight into her life with Heath further but her hesitance was enough ammunition for her friend.
“You have!” Helena said delightedly.
“He kissed me,” Penelope blurted out before mortifications lit her chest afire. Her hand clamped over her wayward mouth, but her words had already taken effect. Helena gasped out a noise between a shriek and a squeal. Penelope hurriedly went to quiet her.
“Shhh,” she shushed with red lancing over her face, while stifling the urge to throw guilt-laced looks over her shoulder. “Please. You cannot tell anyone, please. Edward might sell me off to the highest bidder faster than it would take me to blink.”
A delicate hand waved in her face, “I won’t tell a soul, I promise.”
Breathing out, Penelope sagged back and said balefully. “We’re a pair, aren’t we? Both stopped because of status concerns.”
