Delia shook her head. ‘I cannot agree. It seems unfair to me. He says you must think for yourself, and yet when you do, you are admonished. He should be easier upon you while you are learning.’
Helen opened her mouth to defend his lordship, then closed it again. Her friend had a point. His lordship had become far more hot-tempered since they had arrived in Brighton. A worrying situation, considering the vestige darkness within him.
‘His lordship never promised me an easy time,’ she said dryly. ‘In fact, he promised me the opposite.’
‘It still does not seem fair to me. Even so, for all his bad temper, he is very handsome.’ She glanced sideways at Helen. ‘And an Earl.’
Was Delia setting her cap at Lord Carlston? A flash of the previous night caught Helen in the chest: Delia dressed in white, playing for him.
‘You do know that he is still considered to be married?’ she said. ‘The law will not declare Lady Elise deceased for another three years.’
Delia tilted her head, clearly perplexed. ‘Oh!’ she said, coming to some realisation. ‘You goose! I was not thinking of myself. I thought you were developing a tendresse for him. And he for you.’
‘No,’ Helen said quickly. ‘You are mistaken.’ So even Delia, a newcomer, could see the energy between them.
‘Are you sure?’
‘I am certain,’ Helen said firmly.
‘Then I will say no more upon it.’ Delia folded Pug’s invitation, pensively running the edge between her thumb and forefinger. ‘You know it is my dearest wish to help you as much as possible, but I must admit I am not sure what I am supposed to do as your aide. Do you wish me to report things that I have noted?’
‘Noted about what?’ Helen asked, still distracted by her visceral response to her friend’s question about Lord Carlston. Clearly she was failing miserably to quell her attraction.
‘Well …’ Delia shifted, the bed creaking under the movement. ‘It is not so much noted as overheard.’
That snapped Helen’s attention back to her friend. ‘Delia! You have been eavesdropping again. You promised me you would stop!’
Her friend raised pale palms in contrition. ‘I know, and I am sorry, but I think you should hear what Lady Margaret said.’
‘I do not wish to hear what she said.’
‘I think you do.’
The warning note in Delia’s voice stopped Helen’s next protest. She studied her friend’s face, which was sincerely troubled. ‘If you must.’
Delia looked over her shoulder at the closed door, then leaned closer. ‘Last night, Lady Margaret was talking to Lord Carlston in the drawing room before you returned from Lewes. She said that Darby and Mr Quinn were “becoming very close” and that Darby might not be the best choice of Terrene for you. She said a young maid of such low origin could not be relied upon to choose duty over love.’
Helen drew back. ‘I can assure you, Darby is very mindful of her duty.’
‘It was not my remark, Helen. It was Lady Margaret’s. And his lordship agreed.’
‘He agreed?’
‘Yes.’
Helen dug her fingertips into the silk bedcover. Did they intend to replace Darby? No, she would not allow it. Especially not with Lowry lurking in the background.
‘I know that you think Darby very loyal, but is it possible that Lady Margaret is correct?’ Delia asked. ‘From my own experience with Mr Trent, I know when it came to a choice between love and duty, I chose love without hesitation. To my own detriment, of course.’ She pressed the back of her hand against her throat; a gesture of embarrassment that Helen recognised from their school days. ‘I could not see past him, even though I was heading to my own ruin. The Natural Philosophers tell us that finding a mate and producing offspring is the most basic drive amongst animals. Do you think that Darby and Mr Quinn can resist that drive?’
Helen regarded her friend with narrowed eyes. ‘I hope you are not intimating that Darby’s station in life or Mr Quinn’s race make them more like animals.’
‘Of course not!’ Delia waved away the suggestion with a flap of her hand. ‘But if Darby decides she wants the comfort of family and wishes to marry Mr Quinn, would you insist upon her staying with you?’
Helen wanted to say yes, but knew she could never countenance such a cruel separation. She sighed and settled for, ‘I don’t know. Probably not.’
‘Of course it may all come to nothing,’ Delia said. ‘The course of love is never straight. I just thought it would be prudent for you to consider other possibilities before his lordship takes the decision out of your hands.’ She stared into the distance for a moment, lips pursed. ‘Mr Hammond would be a good alternative, don’t you think? He is steady and reliable, and although not large, he would be quick.’ She leaned over and squeezed Helen’s hand. ‘Or even myself, although I know I would not be your first choice. Too thin and scrawny now. However, if it comes to it, do not hesitate to ask.’
Helen forced herself to smile. ‘Thank you.’
‘You do not hold it against me for telling you?’
‘Of course not.’
‘But you look so stricken.’
Helen shook her head, her fingernails clawed deep into the silk cover, anchoring her panic. ‘As you say,’ she said calmly, ‘it may never happen.’
Midway through breakfast, Garner entered the morning room and made his stately way to Lady Margaret’s side.
‘Lord Carlston has arrived,’ he reported. ‘He has elected to go directly to the salon to await Lady Helen’s convenience.’
Delia paused in buttering a roll and asked Helen, ‘Do you think he is still angry?’
‘Lord Carlston does not nurse his anger,’ Mr Hammond said. He glanced at his sister. ‘Unlike others.’
Ignoring her brother, Lady Margaret asked, ‘Did you pass on my invitation for his lordship to take breakfast with us, Garner?’
Helen met Delia’s eyes: Something seems to have occurred between the siblings. Delia drew her mouth down — I do not know — and returned to her buttering.
‘His lordship declined the invitation with thanks, my lady,’ Garner answered.
Helen placed her teacup back onto its saucer and crammed the last bite of her third piece of seed cake into her mouth. His lordship may not hold on to his anger, but she did not want to irritate him all over again by making him wait. And she needed to settle the question of Darby’s Terrene status as soon as possible.
‘I’ll go now,’ she said around the mouthful. ‘His lordship will want to start training as soon as possible.’
Besides, when they were training, he could not keep his distance. The unbidden — and unwanted — thought stopped her mid-chew.
Lady Margaret wrinkled her nose. ‘Please, close your mouth, Lady Helen. You may need to eat as much as a man now, but you do not have to chew like one at our private table.’
Helen swallowed the cake. ‘I do apologise. Excuse me.’