Page 23 of Never Besmirch a Wallflower: Dukes and Wallflowers

Choking, Helena forced the burning medicine down her throat. She coughed for several minutes, then wiped the tears streaming from her eyes.

“You’ll be right in a moment.” Mrs. Hawkins tucked the bottle into her pocket and swept from the room.

The crackling fire drawing her attention, Helena glided closer to the warmth, mesmerized by the flickering flames. Reaching out, she pressed her hand to the grate, marveling at how the blaze stretched toward her skin.

She was supposed to do something…

A loud rap echoes through the house.

The guests!

Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs forming across her brain, Helena turned and glided across the floor, aiming for the doorway. She grabbed the door frame, swung into the hallway, and floated down the staircase.

Her body numb and her mind blissfully blank, the terror of the blackmail note subverted by the dose of laudanum, Helena wrestled open the door to welcome her first visitor, Miss Octavia Sinclair, whom Helena had grown close to during and after the Duke of Lennox’s Christmas party.

“Miss Rowe!” Miss Sinclair flung her arms around Helena, coating her in a light shower of snowflakes. “I was honored to receive an invitation to tonight’s event.”

“I could never forget you.” Helena’s tongue tripped over the words, her lips mashing the sentence into a garbled mess.

A tiny frown appeared on Miss Sinclair’s forehead, but instead of commenting on Helena’s sluggish speech, she asked, “Am I late?”

“Actually,”—Helena looped her arm through Miss Sinclair’s, leading her toward the parlor—“you are the first to arrive.”

“Oh, no!” Her face paling, Miss Sinclair’s free hand whipped to her mouth. “I should leave and return in an hour after more guests have come.”

“You shall do no such thing!” Helena tightened her hold on Miss Sinclair, wobbling slightly as they maneuvered through the parlor doorway. “If you catch a chill from the evening’s air, I will hold myself responsible.”

Miss Fernsby-Webb glanced up from shuffling a deck of cards. “Why does Miss Sinclair wish to go outside?”

“She believes herself to have arrived too early,” Helena replied, gently squeezing Miss Sinclair’s arm.

“Impossible.” Miss Fernsby-Webb waved her hand, then jerked her head toward a steaming bowl of negus on the refreshment table and winked. “May I suggest something strong to warm yourself?”

Relief flashed across Miss Sinclair’s face as though the appearance of the alcoholic punch had dissipated her concern for Helena’s odd behavior, and she nodded. “I could definitely be tempted.”

“An excellent proposal,” Helena said, releasing Miss Sinclair’s arm when a knock sounded in the hallway. “If you would excuse me for a moment.”

Turning, Helena glided into the corridor, floating toward the door as though she were walking on a cloud.

Everything would work out. Somehow. She may not even need to resort to theft.

Helena smiled, warmed by the giddy feeling coursing through her veins. She opened the door and gasped, grabbing hold of the wooden edge to steady herself.

On the snow-dusted doorstep stood Miss Arabella Venning, her black hair peeking out from beneath a fur-lined hooded cape, accompanied by the specter that had haunted Helena since that morning when she shoved aside the Duke of Lennox to chase down a hallucination—Miss Selina Drummond.

Except this woman wasn’t a delusion…

“What a beautiful dress,” Miss Venning said, unaware of the effect her companion had on Helena. “Did you purchase it from Mrs. Talbot’s shop?”

“I-I did,” Helena said, her fingers turning white from her grip on the door.

“I’m ever so grateful to Miss Fernsby-Webb for suggesting I bring my cousin tonight.” Miss Venning gestured behind her. “She arrived just a week ago, and I didn’t want to leave her with no one to keep her entertained but my father.”

Miss Venning glanced back at Miss Drummond, flashing an apologetic grimace.

“Of course, any family of yours is welcome.” Swallowing the nervous lump growing in her throat, Helena curtsied, then moved aside. “Do come in.”

“Miss Rowe,” Miss Venning said, removing her cape, “I’d like to introduce you to my cousin, Miss Selina Drummond.”