but he was unwell. I have been told that he suffers bouts of periodical sickness.’
‘Unfortunate for the poor fellow,’ Toby said and nodded. ‘Mama worried that I might have inherited Father’s weakness of the chest, but thus far I am hale and hearty.’
‘Nothing to fear as far as you are concerned,’ Max said and the strange look disappeared as he grinned. ‘If you were my heir, I should not be concerned for the future, Toby. As it is, I believe I must seriously consider marriage.’
‘As to that, there was some talk of your showing Miss Fitzherbert particular attention. I heard yesterday that she had accepted the Duke of Melbourn.’
‘I did consider it when we met at a house party at Christmas,’ Max replied. ‘However, after further consideration I decided we should not suit. Poor Jane did not find my sense of humour amusing. Indeed, she did not always realise when I was funning. I fear that I do have a rather irreverent humour and she is not alone in disapproving of levity. Nor would she approve of certain other activities of mine, I fear.’
‘Mr Bradwell was not amused by your humour last night,’ Toby said and arched his right eyebrow. ‘However, Miss Henderson seemed to approve of your actions over the donkey. I should have liked to see her when she pounced on that rogue, Max. From what you told me, she was very brave.’
‘Yes, very,’ Max confirmed. ‘I should not have told you had you not been so taken with that wretched donkey, Toby. You must not tell anyone else of her part in the affair. I would not wish to damage her reputation. She seems to be taking well at the moment.’
‘You need not have cautioned me,’ Toby said. ‘She sounds a good sort of person, Coleridge.’ He threw Max a mocking look. ‘Perhaps you should fix your interest with her before Bradwell does?’
‘Damned young pup!’ Max said and gave him a stare of mock severity. ‘I shall admit to you privately that I like her. However, these things should not be rushed.’
‘I’ll wager that Bradwell will ask her before the week’s out and be turned down,’ Toby said and grinned wickedly. ‘A hundred guineas she sends him away with a flea in his ear!’
‘It is most improper of you to take that young lady’s name in vain,’ Max said, but his eyes gleamed. ‘I’ll take you—but if word of this wager gets out I shall skin you alive!’
‘It is just between us,’ Toby said. ‘We must watch for the signs, Coleridge. They are both certain to be at the Marquis of Hindlesham’s ball this evening.’
‘Amelia was right about that colour,’ Mrs Henderson said as Helene came downstairs wearing her new gown that evening. ‘You look beautiful, my love.’ Helene’s hair had been dressed in a knot at the top of her head, and then allowed to fall to her shoulder in one elegant ringlet. Her hair was a dark, shining brown, her slightly olive-toned skin brought to life by the warmth of the deep peach silk. She was wearing a pendant of diamonds and pearls loaned to her by Amelia, and a matching pair of earrings. ‘I think you need a bracelet, my love. Wear this, Helene. Your papa gave it to me as my wedding gift.’ She handed Helene a small velvet pouch. Inside was a narrow bracelet of diamonds set in gold.
‘Mama, your bracelet,’ Helene said and hesitated. ‘Are you sure you wish to lend it to me? It is so precious to you—and I should be distressed if I lost it. Did you not say that the catch was loose?’
‘I have had the catch seen to,’ Mrs Henderson said. ‘Had your papa been a richer man, you might have had jewels of your own, Helene. I am sorry that I could not give them to you, but you may borrow my bracelet while we are in town.’
‘Oh, thank you, Mama,’ Helene said. ‘Will you fasten it for me, please? I shall take very good care of it, I promise.’
Helene admired the bracelet on her wrist. The stones looked well against the pristine white of her long evening gloves, but she was still a little apprehensive of wearing it, because she knew that her mama treasured the lovely thing. She had been forced to sell some of her jewellery since Papa died, but the bracelet was too precious to part with unless the necessity became too pressing. Helene tested the clasp by giving it a gentle tug. It held and she felt relieved, because it seemed that the fastening was now secure.
Amelia and Emily joined them at that moment. Emily admired the bracelet, complimenting Helene on her appearance.
‘That colour looks wonderful on you,’ she said. ‘So much better than the white Madame Dubois would have had you wear.’
‘I suppose she was thinking that white is generally favoured by young ladies,’ Mrs Henderson said. ‘However, I think Amelia was quite right to advise against it. I believe the carriage awaits—shall we go?’
In the carriage, Helene was careful not to sit on Amelia’s gown. It was quite a squash with four of them, but, by being considerate of each other, they managed to arrive with no damage to their gowns. A red carpet had been laid for the ladies to walk on, and there were linkboys everywhere with their torches and lanterns. Footmen were waiting to conduct the guests inside, and the ladies were greeted by smiling maids who took their evening cloaks. Directed by one of the footmen, they walked up a magnificent staircase to meet the Marquis and Marquise of Hindlesham.
The marquis was a large, portly man dressed in a dark puce coat, his wife a tiny woman, exquisitely lovely in a gown of sparkling silver. She must have been at least twenty years his junior and was now recovered from the birth of her first son. The grand ball was being given in celebration of her success in producing the heir; the magnificent diamonds around her throat were evidence of her husband’s delight at her cleverness.
Amelia congratulated both the marquis and his wife and received a kiss on the cheek from the young mother, who was not much above Helene’s own age. Helene curtsied and thanked her hostess for the invitation.
‘You are very welcome, Miss Henderson,’ the marquise replied and smiled. ‘Amelia Royston is a friend—any guests she cares to bring are always welcome to me. Perhaps we may talk later.’
Helene inclined her head and moved on, because there was a line of guests waiting to greet and be greeted by their hosts. She had thought there were a lot of guests at the soirée the previous evening, but this was clearly a much grander occasion. There were two large reception rooms, which were overflowing with guests. Footmen circled with trays of champagne and many people were content to linger here. However, Amelia was moving steadily through the crush, Emily, Mrs Henderson and Helene following in her wake. Beyond the two crowded reception rooms was a large, long room, which was where the ball was to be held. Helene could hear music playing and already a few couples had taken to the floor.
She looked about her, entranced by the theme. Yards and yards of some pale pink gauzy material had been draped over the stage where the musicians were grouped. Banks of pink roses and carnations were at the foot of the stage, and arranged tastefully in alcoves to either side.
‘Where on earth did they find so many roses?’ Helene asked of no one in particular and heard a throaty chuckle just behind her. Turning, she found herself staring up at Lord Coleridge. ‘My lord…’ She dipped a curtsy. ‘I was just admiring the flowers. There are such a profusion and it is a little early in the year, would you not agree?’
‘I believe they are all forced in a hothouse,’ Max told her, a gleam in his eyes. ‘Have you remarked that they have little scent? For myself I prefer a natural rose…one that is allowed to blossom in its own good time. Ours at Coleridge House begin to flower from May onwards in the most
