Helena startled at her question. “I…uh… Well, I cannot speak to such things.”
Lady Norwick’s smile was too sweet and innocent while her chocolate brown eyes sparked with mischief. “Can’t you, my dear? What a pity. I thought for certain you were woolgathering about a particular gentleman a moment ago.”
Eve covered a giggle with her hand.
“I wasn’t woolgathering.” Helena fanned herself with her free hand, her body aflame now. “I was thinking.”
The countess and Eve burst into laughter.
“Not about Lord Thorne,” she blurted and winced. “I mean, I was considering what gown to wear to Almack’s next week.”
Eve linked arms and hugged Helena to her side. “Don’t be embarrassed. I would be pleased to call you my sister.”
Even as she shook her head to dispel any notions of a future with Sebastian, warm tingles radiated within her chest. How she would love to have a lasting relationship with him and claim Eve as family, but it couldn’t be. Not unless she abandoned her dream of finding her sisters and providing a better life for them. And she would rather die than give it up.
Eve gasped, startling her from her reverie. “It’s Sir Jonathan. What is he doing here?”
“Enjoying this lovely weather, I imagine.” Lady Norwick gave her a nudge. “You may go greet him, Miss Thorne, as long as he remains a respectable distance.”
Eve didn’t require further encouragement and hurried ahead while Lady Norwick and Helena slowed their steps.
“I’ve known Sir Jonathan since I was a girl,” Lady Norwick said, “and I’ve never seen him as taken with a young lady as he is with Miss Thorne.”
“He seems like a decent man.” Sir Jonathan was untroubled by Eve’s broken betrothal and even less so by her unladylike curiosity. Helena appreciated that about him.
“He is one of the better ones, I must admit. I felt certain he and Miss Thorne would get on if only they made each others’ acquaintance.”
Helena stopped in the middle of the path, as did Lady Norwick. “You played matchmaker for Eve?”
The countess shrugged one shoulder and a pleasant pink color tinged her cheeks.
Lady Norwick had a reputation for being a force to respect, but rarely did anyone speak of her gracious spirit.
Helena brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Please don’t be offended, my lady, but what led you to help a young woman you had never met until recently?”
“I could ask you the same, Helena.”
A heated blush swept over her face. She resumed walking to avoid answering. She couldn’t admit to her agreement with Sebastian.
Lady Norwick matched her pace and entwined their arms. “Forgive me if I was too forward. Naturally, I assumed we had similar motives. I know what it’s like to be judged by others, but whereas I earned my reputation for being bad ton, Miss Thorne did not. If I was given a second chance, how much more deserving is she? Everyone deserves a second chance at happiness, don’t you agree?”
Tears pricked Helena’s eyes. The countess likely had no idea how much her words meant to Helena. Suddenly, she felt as if she had someone to confide in about her sisters. Someone who would understand and not judge. Yet, Eve needed Lady Norwick more than Helena did.
“Yes,” she said on a breath. “Eve deserves a second chance.”
And Helena could be a liability. If Society learned of her past, Helena’s association with Eve could make her an outcast again.
She shook her head slightly. She couldn’t do that to her friend.
Sebastian should know the truth about the woman he was seeking, and if he chose to withdraw his help, Helena must understand. She was willing to put her sisters above her happiness. If Sebastian put his sister ahead of Helena, she had no cause to complain.
But the prospect still hurt.
Eighteen
After a bit of assistance from his servants, Sebastian learned the town house on Walpole Street belonged to the Marquess of St. Ambrose, a bachelor every marriage-minded mother dreamed of snagging for her daughter. It wasn’t the home where he resided—St. Ambrose lived in a grander house on Park Street bordering Hyde Park—but it was rumored the marquess paid calls to the young woman letting the town house.