welcome to him. No, the marker is for an old woman, Sally—I don’t know her last name. She was a healer, and my…my friend,” Helena concluded, her voice breaking.
The lawyer’s face softened. “I know this must have been a terrible shock to you, leaving the only place you’ve ever known and traveling so far, only to find the one you were seeking forever lost to you. We’ve spoken of financial matters, but nothing specifically of what you will do today, tomorrow and in the coming weeks. Will you allow me to make some suggestions?”
Suddenly, Helena felt the weight of the long hours of travel with little sleep and less food. Swaying, she put a hand on the lawyer’s desk to steady herself. “I…I would be grateful,” she murmured.
Mr. Pendenning poured a glass of wine from a crystal decanter on his desk. “Here, sip some of this. I’ll touch briefly on what I think you should do, and then you must rest.”
Helena took the glass with trembling hands. “Thank you. I should be glad of some rest.”
“Your mother left quite specific instructions, should all the personages she mentioned be living and amenable to her wishes. After so many years confined by your father, she wanted you to be able to travel. To study with the best tutors whatever subject you wished—music, dance, art, literature. But most especially, she wanted you to reclaim a place in Society as part of a loving family, the sort of family your mother remembered from her own childhood.”
Helena’s throat tightened. “While Mama was with me, we were a loving family.”
The lawyer smiled. “From all that your mother wrote me and the tender regard she displayed for you all these years, I am sure you were. She would like you to have that closeness again. And so she wished for you to go live with her cousin and childhood friend, Lillian Forester.”
Helena’s eyes brightened. “Cousin Lillian! I remember Mama speaking of her when I was a little girl.”
“She felt she could entrust her cousin—she’s Lady Darnell now, by the way—to advise you on the purchase of a suitable wardrobe, to arrange whatever tutoring you might wish and, in general, to smooth your way into Society as the cultured, independent young woman she knew you would be.”
To have a home…with a woman who had been dear to her mother, had known her growing up…Helena blinked back the sudden burn of tears. It would never fill the awful void left by her mother’s loss, but the terrible loneliness that had devastated her when she learned of her mother’s death eased a fraction.
“I think I should like that. However, what if…if Lady Darnell does not wish to take me in, or we find we do not suit?” She gave the lawyer a small smile. “I have been alone so long, I may not make a…comfortable guest. In that case, do I have funds enough to set up my own household?”
“Should it come to that, you have funds enough to set up a household in every city in England! But I don’t think that shall be necessary. I took the liberty of notifying Lady Darnell that you were on your way to London. After we finish chatting, I shall send her another note letting her know you’ve arrived. I expect she’ll immediately dispatch her stepson, Lord Darnell, to welcome you into the family.”
Helena stiffened. “Lord Darnell? Why would cousin Lillian not come herself?”
The solicitor sent her a cautious look. “I expect you will not be pleased to learn this after your experiences, but in English law and custom, nearly all matters relating to wealth and family are handled for ladies by the masculine head of their household. In Lady Darnell’s case, that would be Lord Darnell, the eldest son of her late husband. She resides with him.”
Helena’s rosy vision of a congenial family unit faded. “In that case, I should like you to advise me on setting up my own establishment. I do not wish to be part of any man’s household ever again.”
The lawyer nodded sympathetically. “Though I can appreciate your caution, I assure you Lord Darnell is an excellent young man—a well-respected former army officer who served during the Peninsular Wars and at Waterloo, where he performed with great gallantry. You should at least meet him before refusing out of hand the possibility of living with your cousin. It is what your mama wanted.”
But for that fact, Helena would have rejected the suggestion without further consideration. She sat in silence for a long moment, frowning, torn between the wistful hope of recapturing something of her mother—and the hard-earned dread of being under any man’s control.
“If I meet him, even agree to live under his roof, and later change my mind, I will be free to leave at any time?”
“Of course. From now forward, you are mistress of your own life.”
After a moment Helena nodded reluctantly. “I suppose I can at least meet him, since that was what Mama wished.”
“Excellent.” Mr. Pendenning nodded his approval. “Now, I’ve saved the most special part for last. All the years of your separation, your mother wrote you frequently. Knowing your father would likely destroy the letters if she sent them to you, she forwarded them to me for safekeeping.”
From a drawer in his desk, the lawyer removed a wooden box. “I have them all here, kept for you just as she wished. On top is her last letter, written when she knew she would never have the joy of seeing you again. In her final note to me, she asked that you read that one first.”
He reached beside him to tug on the bellpull. “My assistant will show you to a room where you can be private. I’ll rejoin you with Lord Darnell when he arrives. Now, can I offer you anything else?”
Numbly, Helena shook her head. “No, thank you. You’ve been very kind. May I have them?” She held out her hands.
Smiling, Mr. Pendenning handed her the box. “Enjoy them, my dear. Your mother loved you very much.”
The precious box clasped in her hands, Helena followed the young man almost without seeing him, her heart too full of anguish, joy and confusion to speak.
Mama was lost to her forever…but her voice had not been silenced. In her hands Helena held tangible proof of the never-failing affection she’d believed in with all her heart through ten long years of separation. A priceless treasure trove of love, enclosed in a simple wooden box.
She could scarcely breathe for the emotion weighing on her chest. Tears threatened, but she held them back.
She had a story of devotion to read and she wanted to see every word clearly.
Once alone in the room to which the clerk directed her, she sat in a corner chair by the window, set the box on a table nearby and drew out the topmost letter.
My dearest Helena, I can hardly write this for the grief I feel, knowing most likely I shall never again set eyes on your precious face, clasp you in my arms or feel the beat of your heart against my breast. But I must stem my distress and persevere, for as great a burden as it is to know I will be forever parted from you, my dearest child, still more terrible would it be for you to win your freedom and have no word from me to ease your sorrow when you discover that I am gone. And so, my darling, let me tell you what I would say now, if we could be together…
By the time Helena reached the end of the letter, the words were blurring on the page and her hands shook too badly for her to refold the sheet. Somehow she managed to place the note back in the box on top of the others, stacks and stacks of letters tied in bunches with string.
Only then did she allow the anguish to wash over her in a flood of the tears she’d suppressed for so long. She wept until, limp, exhausted and desolate, she craved only rest. After tugging the curtains from their holders, she tucked her feet up under her skirts in the quiet of the now-darkened room, curled herself into a ball, buried her face under her arm and slept.
CHAPTER TWO
ADDING THE BILL TO the stack on his desk, Adam Darnell dragged his fingers through his chestnut-brown locks. He’d almost rather be back with Wellington, preparing to charge the French lines,