Page 8 of A Suitable New Year’s Revenge (Ladies’ Wagering Whist Society #42)

Pine prowled around the drawing room of his parents’ London home. He wasn’t entirely certain why he didn’t just return to his own rooms—only that it was quiet and lonely there.

“I am ready,” his mother said, entering the room. She’d changed from her traveling gown to one more appropriate for Town and was now pulling on her gloves.

“You are ready for what, Mama?” he asked.

She stopped and looked at him in surprise. “To pay a visit to Miss Lawson, what else? Shall we go? I ordered the town coach before I went up to change. It should be waiting outside.”

Pine could feel his heart pounding in his chest. She wanted him to visit with Helena? But what was he to say to her? She’d hurt him—but only because of misunderstandings. He knew he needed to explain things to her, but… He needed to tell her that he loved her, but… Pine swallowed hard. “It is too late to visit, Mother. It’s nearly six.”

“I’m certain Miss Lawson will forgive us, especially when she hears that we are merely there to inquire about her father.” She turned and headed out the door. “Come along.”

“Mama! I... I can’t,” Pine called after her. His heartbeat doubled.

She paused in the door. “Of course you can, my love. You’re going to have to face her sooner or later. I’m not suggesting you have a deep discussion just now, but it would be too rude not to visit now that we’re in town.” With that, she finally left the room.

Pine had no choice but to follow her. How had he not realized before now how infuriating his mother could be?

A quarter of an hour later, they were being shown into a slightly shabby but very comfortable sitting room. The yellow striped settee had dulled to a burnished gold, and the yellow and red floral carpet looked well-worn in spots.

Helena, herself, stood out among the faded colors of the room. She was a brilliant star in a dark sky. Her pale-blue gown brought out the blue of her eyes and the lovely blonde highlights in her hair. Pine was struck by her easy beauty, feeling as if it had been weeks since he’d seen her rather than days.

She stood and curtsied to them as they entered the room. “My lady, what a lovely surprise. I hadn’t realized you were coming to Town.”

“It was a rather last-minute decision,” Pine’s mother admitted. “After you left, I remembered we’d been invited to Lady Wickford’s ball, and I thought it would be such a lovely diversion.”

“Are Ash and Marigold with you?” she asked, looking toward the door as if they would suddenly appear. Since they didn’t, she gestured for Lady Hazelton and Pine to seat themselves.

“No. Marigold hasn’t been presented yet, so I asked Ash to stay and keep his sisters’ company. Lord Hazelton came with us but needed to see to some business this evening, unfortunately.”

Pine nearly laughed. His father’s business was to reacquaint himself with Powell’s Club for Gentlemen and the very fine rum to be found there in particular.

“Of course,” Helena said.

Pine wasn’t certain, but he thought she might deliberately be ignoring him.

“Tell us how your dear father is doing,” Lady Hazelton asked, leaning forward.

Helena gave the first smile he had seen on her lips since they’d arrived. “I am very pleased to say that he has rallied somewhat. Dr. Colburne insists it is my presence which bolstered him, but whatever it is, he is doing better.”

“Oh, I am so very glad to hear that. How wonderful,” Lady Hazelton said. She then put a hand to her cheek and said, “I wonder if I might go and pay my respects? We met quite a few years ago, and it would be lovely to renew our acquaintance.”

Helena frowned. “I don’t know if that would be a good idea, my lady. He has rallied, as I said, but he is far from well.”

“Oh, I am certain I won’t tire him, I promise. I’ll stay only for a minute or so.” She rose and Helena followed suit. “No need to show me the way. The footman or a maid can do so,” she said, breezing out the door.

Helena chased after her. “We have only the maid, I’m afraid.”

“That’s fine.”

Pine stood and saw that his mother had stopped the maid who’d greeted them at the door. She looked to be bringing some broth to his lordship.

“Would you please show me the way to Lord Cumnor?” Lady Hazelton asked.

The girl looked to her mistress. Pine couldn’t see Helena’s expression since her back was to him, but he saw a brief rise and fall of her shoulders.

“You stay here and keep Pine company. I’ll be back momentarily,” his mother said, and then followed the maid up the stairs.

Helena returned to the drawing room, looking a little bewildered.

“She always manages to get what she wants. No one is entirely sure how she does it,” he said.

Helena gave a little smile. “So I see.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure she won’t overtax him. She’s very good with patients,” he added just to reassure her.

Helena nodded and resumed her seat.

They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, then Helena asked, “How was your journey to Town?”

“Slow but fine. I think the weather warmed a bit since you came down. The roads were merely slushy but not impassable.”

She nodded. ‘‘The more traveled roads were as well when I rode down.”

He nodded, and they lapsed into silence again. Helena looked toward the door, probably wondering when his mother would return.

“Are you going to Lady Wickford’s ball?” he asked.

Her eyes snapped back to him. “I don’t believe so. I don’t know that it would be appropriate.”

“That what would be appropriate, my dear?” Lady Hazelton asked as she breezed back into the room.

“Oh! Er, going to the ball,” Helena explained. She was grateful the lady had done as she’d promised and only just visited for a very short time.

“I’m certain there could be no harm in it. In fact, I just mentioned to your father that I hoped you would be able to attend, and he agreed it would be a good thing.”

“He did?” Helena asked skeptically.

“I’m not certain it would be appropriate for you to dance, perhaps, but you should certainly attend.”

After seeing Pine and Lady Hazelton out, Helena went up to check on her father.

He was slowly sipping at his broth, which Mary had put into a cup to make it easier for him.

“He’s not wanting much,” Mary said as Helena joined her at her father’s bedside.

“Not hungry,” her father mumbled, not even opening his eyes.

Mary held the cup to his lips again. “Another sip, my lord.” She held a napkin to his chin to catch the drips.

After she took the cup from his lips, he opened his eyes and looked at Helena. “Lady Hazel...” His voice trailed off as if it were too much effort to speak.

Helena nodded. “She insisted on seeing you. I’m terribly sorry, Papa. I didn’t know how to stop her.”

He gave a little shake of his head. “I like her,” he said, his voice raspy.

“You do?”

He gave a little smile. “I remember... met her in my youth.” He paused to catch his breath. “A beauty. Full of life and...” He took another breath. “Vigor. Felt... felt sorry for...” Another pause. “Whoever married her.” He gave a little chuckle. “Smart, though.”

Helena couldn’t help but laugh. “She is very smart, and very determined, I believe.”

He nodded, pushing away the cup Mary was trying to encourage him to drink from. “Said you should go...” He began coughing. Mary put the napkin to his lips, and he spit into it. “To the ball,” he finished after a moment.

“I don’t think so, Papa, I—”

“Go!” he said more forcefully than she had thought him capable of.

Before she could respond, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Dear Sirs,

It has come to my attention that the work pertaining to the plays of Sophocles—Antigone and Electra—published by Lord Cumnor were not actually his work at all. The rigorous study and remarkable conclusions drawn from it were, in fact, the work of Lord Cumnor’s daughter, Miss Helena Lawson. I am ashamed and appalled that the excellent work of this young lady had to be hidden behind the name of a man in order to be taken seriously. Our country has been blessed by a good number of lady scientists and brilliant thinkers. It is a travesty in this modern age to still believe the fairer sex does not have the mental acuity for such thought-provoking work.

Because of this bias, one of the great intellectuals and scholars of ancient Greek theatre will lose her voice upon the sad occurrence of her father’s passing. Do you truly wish to silence this voice and those of many other female intellectuals because of outdated prejudice?

It is my sincere hope that you do not. I encourage you to reprint Miss Lawson’s work under her own name and thereby encourage other women to publish their own work as well, no longer feeling the need to hide behind false male names or male members of their families.

We are most sincerely,

Lord Hazelton and Mr. Pine Teviot, under consultation from Lord Cumnor

This is a copy of a letter sent to the esteemed institution of sciences, the Royal Society of London, by the above-mentioned gentlemen.