Page 22 of The Duke’s Lance (The Duke’s Guard #12)

H elen smiled at her soon-to-be sister-in-law, Caro—short for Caroline. She’d noticed the scar on the woman’s face, but did not remark on it, nor did she stare. Though she did touch her fingertips to the bandage around her neck. Somehow it felt as if their bond would be stronger because they’d been scarred, and rescued, by the O’Malley brothers… Not just brothers, Helen remembered— twins .

Caro was such a strong woman, as was Prudence, Garahan’s wife, and the baroness—Lady Phoebe—for that matter.

“You’re awfully quiet, Miss Helen,” the baroness remarked. “Would you rather lie down for a few hours and rest? No one would blame you if you did.”

“Just a bit overwhelmed by your kindness and acceptance.” Helen smoothed her hand on the fabric of her borrowed gown and felt tears well in her eyes. “Your generosity knows no bounds. I would not have minded wearing my other dress…though that gown was borrowed, too, from another kind soul, the Widow Dawson. She was the one who suggested the abandoned hunting lodge to O’Malley, where he found me. The widow took extra care cleaning my wound…”

When she fell silent, Caro said, “We are not afraid to hear whatever you wish to share with us. We have all been there…not victims, because we chose not to be. We have all been lucky enough to have been rescued or protected by the duke’s guard—even Lady Phoebe. Isn’t that right?”

The baroness set her teacup on her saucer and smiled. “Caro would know, as I am quite sure she has heard how her husband tried to protect me when I was staying with my sister-in-law’s mother.”

Helen was trying to remember if she had heard a connection and couldn’t.

Lady Phoebe added, “Lady Persephone is married to my brother Jared—the duke. Her mother is Lady Farnsworth, who was kind enough to chaperone me for a part of my first Season. My brother assigned Thomas O’Malley as my guard when we traveled to London…although things did not quite go according to plan.” She smiled. “That is a story for another time.”

“You were speaking about Thomas?” Caro said.

The baroness laughed. “I promised Thomas that I would stay put. When I received the ransom note for Marcus, how could I not follow my heart and the man I loved?”

“Marcus?” Helen asked.

“Baron Summerfield, my husband, though he wasn’t at the time.”

“I would have done the same,” Helen told her.

Lady Phoebe’s expression was one of determination. “Nothing and no one—not even Jared or my other brother Edward—would stop me!”

Intrigued, Helen had to ask, “What happened?”

“I did not have the coin, but was determined to rescue Marcus.”

“Were you now, my darling?”

The deep voice had all heads turning, and the women gathered in the sitting room sighing. “You know I was,” Lady Phoebe replied. Before she could rise to her feet, the baron strode across the room and took her hand in his. Ignoring his audience, the baron kissed her hand lavishly, and Helen noticed that the color of his eyes—so similar to Phoebe’s—turned a deep, dark blue.

Her heart raced at the thought that O’Malley pulled a similar reaction from her when his lips touched her hand, her face, or her mouth. In that moment she truly believed there was indeed one special person that was destined to find you, no matter what trials and tribulations they had to endure.

When he found you—as Eamon O’Malley had found her—nothing and no one, not even her own foolish self, could keep you apart. Not even circumstances you felt beyond your control.

Helen sighed and reached for her teacup, and nearly bobbled it. The sound broke the tension in the room.

Lady Phoebe laughed delightedly. “You are a rogue, Marcus.”

The baron bowed and released her hand. “But you would not have me any other way, would you?” He smiled. “Enjoy your tea, ladies. Mrs. Green’s frosted teacakes are coveted by more than the twin rogues-in-training who have found a place in our hearts.”

The baroness agreed. “They have brought such joy to us at a time when we did not think anything possibly could. Despite causing more than one uproar in the kitchens over those teacakes in the last few months.”

Before Helen could ask, the baron nodded to them and strode from the room. She turned back and noticed the baroness studying her.

“I’ve seen the way Eamon looks at you, Helen. What warms my heart is that you watch him as if you cannot believe he would care for you. Trust him,” she advised. “Trust and follow your heart.”

Lady Phoebe reached for her teacup, sipped and asked, “Shall I order another pot of tea, or something stronger? Mrs. Green keeps a medicinal supply of Irish whiskey—mostly for the duke’s men. I have been known to sip whiskey or brandy when the occasion calls for something to fortify one’s nerves.”

Helen did not know what to say, so she remained silent.

The baroness asked, “Is there something weighing heavy on your mind about tonight that you’d like to ask, Helen? I am quite sure Caro, Prudence, and I would be happy to answer any of your questions.”

Helen felt as if the baroness had hugged her. “Both Emily and I lost our mothers when we were young. Lord Montrose’s housekeeper and cook took Emily aside when his lordship first made rumblings about finding her a husband. They were quite insistent that I be a part of the conversation that they had with her, and went into great detail…explaining things.” She was embarrassed to even think of what the women who had been married for a number of years had spoken of. “Things they felt we should know before marrying. They are such kind women, both married for some time before losing their husbands.”

“I lost my mother when I was young, too,” Lady Phoebe said. “I was fortunate that my sisters-in-law, Persephone and Aurelia—who for some reason fell head over heels for my irritating older brothers—felt the same, and explained far more than I thought was possible about the marriage bed.”

Josina patted Jeanette’s hand. “If you do not mind, your ladyship, my sister and I would like to rest our eyes for a bit. Thank you in advance for having a heart-to-heart with Helen.”

“Of course,” the baroness replied. “Beth, would you mind escorting the ladies to their rooms?”

“Yes, your ladyship,” her maid replied.

Helen’s heart ached for the sisters as she watched them rise and bid the other ladies goodbye. “They were both engaged to be married,” she said after they had gone. “Herman Standish was Miss Josina’s intended, and Samuel Standish was Miss Jeanette’s… They were brothers.”

“What happened?” Lady Phoebe asked.

“They bought their colors and fought bravely in their regiment.” Helen’s voice broke, and she had to pause to compose herself. “They bravely fought for king and country, and died with honor on the battlefield—on the same day.”

“And they have never married?” Caro asked.

“I haven’t asked them,” Helen admitted. “But from the way they speak of them, I would say not.”

“You are so fortunate to have made the acquaintance of the Hinkle sisters, even more so that they offered to stand in as chaperones. It is what Lady Farnsworth did for me. I will always be grateful, though I am quite sure there were times when Persephone’s mother questioned her decision.”

Helen smiled, thinking of how the Hinkle sisters’ offering to chaperone her came about. “O’Malley can be very persuasive.”

Caro laughed. “Sounds like Thomas. I have yet to meet their other brothers, Sean and Michael. But I have corresponded with their wives—Mignonette was working as a seamstress for the famed modiste Madame Beaudoine when Sean rescued her, and Harry, or Harriet, was rescued by Michael when she was defending her tenant farm from attack.”

“One would wonder what this world was coming to,” Lady Phoebe remarked, “when women are still used as bargaining chips, wagers, or a possession. Thankfully, there are men of strength and honor who have fought to free us from those with ill intent.”

Helen was not surprised when Caro and Prudence heartily agreed.

Lady Phoebe continued, “Now that it is just the four of us, is there anything you would like to know? I can see that you are worrying about something. I promise we will be frank and truthful in our answers. There are things I wished I had known to ask.”

Helen dug deep for the required courage and found it. “I know to expect pain, and cannot help but be concerned that I will not be able to bring myself to do what is expected of me. What if I faint, or worse, stare at his…manly parts in horror?” The delighted laughter of the three women was not what she’d expected. “You find my fears amusing?”

“Not at all,” Lady Phoebe assured her. “I was remembering how patient Marcus was with me, and the questions I asked that had him tongue-tied. Particularly the part when I asked him how in the bloody hell did he expect me not to panic when I saw him naked for the first time. His manly parts, as you referred to them, were huge and intimidating, and seemed to lead the way as he walked toward me.”

“I had a similar experience,” Caro admitted. “Beyond intimidating.”

Prudence flushed, and added, “Mesmerizing.”

That caused another round of laughter from the married ladies, prompting Helen to ask, “So it was not painful?”

“It was,” Lady Phoebe replied. “But there was also pleasure. The right man—and I do believe Eamon O’Malley is the right man for you—will be patient and understanding, and bring you pleasure such as you cannot begin to imagine.” The baroness flushed, smiled, and rasped, “With just his hands, his lips, and his tongue.”

Helen picked up her napkin and fanned her face, while Caro and Prudence murmured their agreement. “It would seem there is a good deal that Emily’s housekeeper and cook left out of their telling.”

“Quite understandable,” Lady Phoebe said. “Given the age difference, and the fact that not all men are as instinctively sensual as the others.”

Helen picked up her teacup and drained it in one swallow. Thank goodness it was tepid and had a cooling effect.

Lady Phoebe got up, walked to the corner of the room, and tugged on the bellpull. “I believe it is time for a sip of something medicinal to calm your nerves.” A few moments later, there was a knock on the door. “Come in.”

A footman stood in the doorway. “You rang, your ladyship?”

“Would you please remove our tea things and ask Mrs. Green for her bottle of medicinal Irish whiskey?”

The footman did not bat an eyelash at the request. “Of course, your ladyship. Anything else?”

“Yes, the decanter of brandy from the library.”

“At once.” The footman gathered the remnants of their tea, placed it on the tray, and picked it up, promising to return momentarily.

“Now then,” Lady Phoebe began, “whatever you do, trust me when I advise you to ask your husband if you are worried or confused about…well, anything.”

“He may sound gruff,” Caro added, “but if Eamon is anything like his brother, he will be struggling to control his need to make love with you.”

Prudence nodded. “But he will be patient, and may even ask you to tell him when something feels good, and something doesn’t. We all have the same lady parts, though not everyone reacts the same way when touched intimately.”

Helen realized her mouth had gaped open. She snapped it shut and wondered if the lush carpet in the room would oblige her and swallow her whole to avoid further embarrassment. Her next thought was that she was addlepated and should be thanking these women for their honesty and advice.

By the time she had her thoughts in order, the footman returned with the requested decanters. He appeared to be embarrassed, and Helen wondered if he had been outside the door when Prudence had been giving her advice. He set the tray on the table, bowed, and retreated. Rather than worry about it, she accepted a glass of brandy when Lady Phoebe offered it.

The baroness raised her glass in a toast. “To Helen and Eamon’s happiness.” When everyone had sipped from their glasses, she said, “Just one more thing, Helen.”

“Yes?”

“Nothing that happens between you and your husband is wrong. No matter what you hear—and people will talk as they are wont to do—what is between the two of you remains between the two of you, unless you are asked to share your experiences in confidence, as we have here today with you.”

Helen was moved by Lady Phoebe’s care and concern for her feelings and worries. That she, Caro, and Prudence would take the time to ease her fears endeared the women to her. “If there is ever anything I can do for any of you, please, just let me know. I can never repay your kindness, nor thank you enough.”

Lady Phoebe glanced at Caro and Prudence, and slowly smiled. “Be happy.”