She mumbled her thanks, uncertain if her dry mouth had formed the correct words.
He urged her closer as they twirled, her head spinning just as fast. She caught a glimpse of Eve laughing with Sir Jonathan.
“Eve may have an offer soon,” she said. “Did you learn anything about the gentleman?”
“He seems aboveboard. Although he has been out of the country much of the time, his estate is in good condition and yields a decent yearly income. He is not squandering his fortune with his travels.”
“It sounds as if you’ve made a decision already.”
He shrugged. “It’s not my decision to make. If Eve chooses to accept him, I would have no qualms about negotiating a contract with the gentleman.”
Her eyebrows shot up. It was hard to imagine a man who would allow his sister a choice, and yet he met her gaze directly. There was no guile behind his dark eyes. Her heart skipped.
Helena had been given no choice when Wickie had come to their door to claim her. She had been fifteen and acting as a mother to her four younger sisters. Her father woke early that morning, stumbling into the kitchen looking like Lazarus raised from the dead. In a rare show of kindness, he had smiled at her. She should have known then something was amiss. Instead, she had returned to stirring the morning porridge with Little Gracie on her hip. Her baby sister had been teething and fussy, and refused to allow anyone but Helena to hold her.
Lavinia, Cora, and Pearl’s happy chatter at the battered kitchen table had stopped when their father entered the room. Cora and Pearl had watched him with distrust in their almost identical blue eyes.
When the knock came at their front door, bile had risen in her throat. It was the same every time her father played at the tables. She had beaten her father to the door, eager to bargain with the debt collector to save their meager belongings, but it wasn’t their usual type of visitor.
The pain slicing into her heart had nearly doubled her over when she learned what her father had done. With tears blurring her vision, she had turned to Lord Prestwick before climbing into his travel coach. Please, if I cannot stay, could my sisters come too?
He’d lightly grasped her chin and smiled sadly. I only need one of you, Miss Kendrick. You will have a better life with me. You’ll have no regrets.
Wickie had lied, of course. Or perhaps he didn’t know the meaning of regret. Or family. Or heartbreaking grief that stripped one of hope. It felt like the ultimate betrayal that she had grown to care for him in the end.
Sebastian’s lips gently touched her ear. “The music has ended, love.”
“Oh!” She blinked, embarrassed to have been lost in her thoughts and feeling awkward just standing there, gripping his hand as if he were her lifeline.
***
Sebastian didn’t want to release Helena. She had the most haunted look on her face, and it took every bit of his self-discipline to refrain from pulling her into his arms. He recognized that look. His father had gotten a similar look when anyone mentioned the Irish Rebellion. Only once had Father spoken to Sebastian of his days in the cavalry. Sebastian’s grandfather had been boasting of his son being a war hero and Father pulled Sebastian aside.
I’m no hero, Son.
Sebastian still recalled the haunted vacancy in his father’s stare.
What terrible things could have happened to Helena to account for that same vacant look? His thumb brushed against the bare curve of her shoulder blade, slowly bringing her back from wherever her mind had taken her. “Let’s take refreshment.”
She nodded and dropped hands, but he retrieved hers and slipped it through the crook of his elbow. He worried she might need the support to stay on her feet. He led her toward a smaller sitting room off the great room where Lady Chattington served punch in silver cups and sweets on delicate china plates. Sebastian retrieved two drinks, handed one to Helena, then guided her to a vacant settee in the corner.
People entered and left the refreshment room in a steady stream, too caught up in their own goings-on to pay attention to them.
His knuckles grazed her leg. “Do you wish to talk about what is troubling you?”
She crossed her arms tightly across her waist as if creating a shield around herself. Something was definitely out of sorts this evening. He held his tongue while he waited for her to determine if she wanted to confide in him. Her eyes cleared and she offered a slight smile. “Forgive me for being such poor company, my lord.”