Before the earl stole away with Lord Thorne’s fiancée. Everyone knew what had happened and talked about it freely, all except his loyal sister. How unfair that Lord Thorne should bear the brunt of a scandal he didn’t cause while Lord and Lady Ellis appeared mostly unscathed. But Lady Ellis had a large, influential family to stand beside her, and Lord Thorne only had his mother and an ostracized sister.
Helena sat up taller. Well, Eve had her now too, and with Olive’s support, Helena would see her new friend restored to her place in Society. Perhaps Lord Thorne would be judged less severely if his sister made a good match and proved what Helena already knew: there was nothing distasteful about the Thornes.
A small shiver traveled the length of her back when she recalled just how appealing she had found Lord Thorne as they had danced together.
It was difficult to believe he wanted to be her ally, but as far as she knew, he had begun his investigation last night with a visit to one of the most popular brothels. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, preferring not to think about his activities. Although she couldn’t help wondering what he had learned. About Lavinia, that is. He already seemed to know a lot about…activities and such. Unfortunately, she didn’t know when she would cross paths with him next.
She and Lord Thorne had agreed there could be no more meetings at her town house—after all, her reputation must remain intact to help anyone—but waiting for word and not knowing when it would come chipped at her patience.
She sat her cup aside. “How is your brother? Did you see him this morning?”
Eve’s brows arched over clever eyes so similar to her brother’s. “Sebastian is well. I think he was pleased when I told him of Lady Eldridge’s invitation to tea and the visit to Madame Girard’s dress shop, but he was racing out the door with the newssheet and did not say much.” She sighed. “I don’t think there is anything he wouldn’t do for Mama and me, but I want to wring his neck for stealing the newssheet every morning.”
“He steals the newssheet?”
Eve rolled her eyes. “He thinks he is shielding us from gossip, but if we venture from the house, we still hear whispers and notice the stares.”
Did he truly do that? Helena’s heart softened toward him a little more. He loved his family and wanted to protect them just like Helena wanted to protect hers. Perhaps she had misjudged him.
“I assume they are speaking about me again,” Eve said, sounding unexpectedly serene. “Heaven only knows why my story would be of interest after two years. It must be a slow Season.”
Helena studied the lady across from her. Eve smiled and sipped her tea. She truly didn’t know what the gossips were saying, did she? Well, Helena wasn’t going to be the one to tell her, especially when her brother made efforts to protect her.
Everyone said the former Lord Thorne suffered from madness, but it was obvious insanity didn’t run in the family as people claimed. Eve and her brother seemed well balanced, but there was usually some basis for rumors. Perhaps someday Eve would trust Helena enough to volunteer the information. Until then, she would mind her own affairs.
“People can be ignorant and cruel,” Helena said. “It is best to ignore them.”
“And some restore my faith, like you and Lady Eldridge.”
“Thank you,” she demurred.
Lady Thorne and Olive rejoined them moments later, and they passed the time pleasantly discussing upcoming entertainments until the mantel clock struck the half hour.
“We should leave if we want to make Miss Thorne’s appointment with Madame Girard,” Helena said.
Olive waved off the invitation. “I have correspondence demanding my attention. Shopping is a young ladies’ pastime. Go, enjoy yourselves.”
Lady Thorne nodded, smiling. “I couldn’t agree more, and quiet afternoons lying about are for old ladies. I have a fainting couch awaiting my return.”
Outside, Eve bid her mother farewell with a kiss to her cheek then eagerly climbed into the Prestwick coach with Helena for the short ride to Bond Street.
They climbed from the carriage and stood on the walk outside Madame Girard’s dress shop. It was snugly wedged between a haberdashery and a sweetshop. Harnesses rattled and struts squeaked as carriages carrying fashionable ladies traveled the busy thoroughfare. Helena closed her eyes for one moment to savor the scent of coffee hanging on the air from the coffeehouse across the street. Such a heavenly scent for such a foul-tasting brew.