Charity sighed and motioned to Helena. “Come on then.”
Helena got up and followed her from the room. She was all but bouncing as she did so. She would have a whole day to herself to read and relax, to be free of the oppressive bonds put on her by her position. And perhaps her uncle would be more right than he knew. A day away would likely put her in a better mind to rededicate herself to her duties.
After all, she had no other choice in the matter.
“I beg your pardon, Miss Monroe.”
Helena looked up from her book and smiled at her uncle’s butler, Aniston. He was rather a kind man—she had noted that he always treated her with the same consideration as he did Charity, despite their disparate positions.
“What is it?” she asked, setting her book aside and rising.
“You have guests, miss.”
She drew back. “Guests? Who is it?”
“The Duchesses Abernathe, Crestwood, Northfield and Donburrow,” he explained while wringing his hands gently before him.
Her lips parted in shock. “I—oh! That is surprising. I wasn’t expecting anyone, certainly not anyone of such stature.”
“Shall I tell the ladies you are not in residence?” he asked.
She pondered the question a moment. It was an excuse to hide, to protect herself. But then she thought of the Duchess of Crestwood and of Baldwin’s sister, the Duchess of Dunborrow. They’d both been very friendly and kind at the garden party the previous day. They’d know she’d refused them if Aniston returned to say she was not at home.
She didn’t want to hurt any feelings, nor incur any more of her uncle’s wrath than she already had. She could well imagine his reaction if she sent four duchesses away.
“Of course I am in residence. Will you show them in and send for tea for us if they stay?”
He nodded, and within moments returned with the four ladies. Helena couldn’t help but pause as they came into the parlor. They were all so beautiful, though in very different ways. Dark and light, shy and outgoing. Of course, all their gowns were perfection, which made her more conscious of her own worn one that she’d inherited from Charity and had to alter.
“Good afternoon,” she said, forcing herself to come forward with a smile. “I’m so sorry if I forgot you were calling.”
The Duchess of Donburrow caught her hands, squeezing them gently. “You didn’t, dear Helena. We were out shopping together and drove by. It was a very rude thing to do, dropping in on you uninvited, but I so wanted to see you and introduce you to my friends.” She motioned to the others. “You know Meg, of course, from my brother’s party the other day. This is Emma, Duchess of Abernathe, and Adelaide, the Duchess of Northfield.”
Helena swallowed. “Good afternoon to you all. Welcome, though I’m afraid my uncle and my cousin are not home at present to receive you.”
To her surprise, the Duchess of Crestwood’s eyes lit up. “Oh, such a shame,” she said, but there was no mistaking the sarcasm that laced her tone.
The Duchess of Abernathe sent her a side look. “We knew, actually. We were at the apothecary and overheard a friend saying that your uncle was out and about with your cousin making calls. We came because we wanted to see you.”
“Me?” Helena gasped.
“Yes,” the Duchess of Northfield said with a warm smile. “Meg and Charlotte spoke so very highly of you, Emma and I wanted to meet you straight away.”
Warmth washed over Helena, both the stinging kind that came from embarrassment and the pleasurable kind that came from joy. She had very much liked Baldwin’s sister and the Duchess of Crestwood. That they liked her in return was very nice, indeed.
“I—well, come and sit, Your—Your Graces? Your Grace, Your—”
“Oh dear!” the Duchess of Crestwood interrupted. “That will not do. When we’re all in a room together, it is far too confusing to go by title or to Your Grace. We’re friends, or we shall soon be, I wager. Why don’t we go by first names?”
Helena hesitated. Her uncle had drilled the importance of rank into her and her cousin. She’d been taught that those with titles always liked to be called by them, that to do otherwise was considered impertinent, but that had been disproven first by Baldwin and now by these ladies. “I don’t know…”
“We do!” Adelaide said with a laugh. “It is Emma, Meg, Adelaide and Charlotte, and you shall be Helena and that is the end of it!”
Helena laughed along with the other women. It was impossible to do otherwise. She nodded at last. “It will make it easier, I suppose. Please sit. Aniston is bringing tea as we speak.”
“Excellent,” Charlotte said, coming around to sit in one of the chairs.
They each took their place with Helena back on the settee, flanked by Adelaide and Emma. Emma picked up the book that had slid between the cushions when Helena was interrupted, and smiled.
“Oh, this is a favorite of mine!” she said, thumbing the pages gently. “What part are you on?”
Helena blushed. “Just to where she climbs out the window.”
Emma nodded with enthusiasm. “Do you like Lord Evans better or Lord Winter?”
“Lord Winter, obviously. He’s quite devilish.”
“A girl after all our hearts,” Adelaide laughed. “I think we’re all proof that devilish men are best.”
Charlotte folded her arms in mock upset. “My Ewan is only devilish when it is appropriate.”
“Your Ewan is a devil in disguise, I think,” Meg teased.
Helena watched it all with surprise. She had expected ladies of such rank to be stuffy. These women were anything but. They laughed and teased and she never felt left out of it, even though it was obvious the foursome were fast friends. It was the first time she’d felt comfortable in…well, a very long time.
“But we’re not here to talk about devilish husbands,” Emma said, blushing prettily. “That is not a proper subject, no matter how pleasing it is. We came here to get to know you, Helena.”
At that moment, a maid entered and Helena got to her feet to help arrange the sideboard. When the servant had left, she began to pour the tea. She was surprised when Charlotte came and helped her, sweetening as her friends liked and handing out the cups.
“You are under no obligation to answer our brazen questions,” Charlotte reassured her as they returned to the group at last.
Helena shifted under their regard. “I’m not certain you’ve asked any yet. What is it you’d like to know?”
“Boston is a long way from here,” Emma said. “Do you miss home?”
Helena let out a sigh. “In truth, not much. I was not very happy there as of late. I see this as an adventure.”
Adelaide smiled. “I like that attitude. Since your name is different, I assume your uncle is…”
“From my mother’s side,” Helena said with a nod. “He’s my mother’s older brother. He, er, well, he took me in.”
Not exactly true, but far less humiliating than saying what had really happened. She caught Adelaide and Emma exchanging a brief look, and blushed.