would be assessing her competence at performing this mundane but vital function.
Fortunately, from the slight smile that appeared on Lady Isobel’s lips as Helena placed the cup and saucer carefully on to the small table at her hostess’s right hand, it would seem that the dowager had been able to find nothing of which to disapprove.
‘It would appear that your mother taught you well, my dear.’ Inclining her head, the countess indicated her satisfaction. ‘Perhaps I have been overly harsh in my appraisal of you—your manners clearly leave nothing to be desired. In point of fact, it does seem to me that you would have very little trouble in passing yourself off amongst the beau monde. Come now, Helena, what do you have to say? An offer such as this is hardly likely to come your way again.’
Helena gave a brisk nod. ‘I am prepared to go along with what you suggest, ma’am. Shall we say for a period of two or three weeks, perhaps?’
The countess threw up her hands in astonishment. ‘Two or three weeks, child! If we are to make any sort of an impact, it will require two months, at the very least!’
‘I had not intended that I should make an impact, your ladyship,’ replied Helena, dismayed. ‘I assure you that I would be perfectly content to attend the occasional assembly and, possibly, a couple of visits to the theatre.’
‘That might satisfy you, miss,’ countered the dowager, with some asperity, ‘but it would hardly serve our purpose. For this scheme to have any effect, you and Markfield will need to be seen together everywhere—at the opera house, in the park, at Almack’s—in fact, at any worthwhile social function to which I can procure an invite. Make no mistake, my gel, entry into society is by no means as simple as you seem to suppose!’
‘I had not supposed it to be simple, ma’am,’ protested Helena, growing more and more apprehensive by the minute. What had started out as a straightforward ploy to protect her father from unnecessary stress was beginning to turn into a predicament of a rather different nature. With the strings of control now firmly in the countess’s hands, Helena was conscious that it would take a good deal of ingenuity on her part to find a way to extricate herself from this entanglement.
‘And if Lord Markfield does not agree?’ she ventured, clutching at straws.
‘With what might I not agree?’
With a guilty start, Helena spun round to see Markfield himself crossing the room. Uncomfortably aware that she had now entered into yet another pact, a faint flush spread across her cheeks. Would Lady Isobel divulge the details of their recent conversation to her grandson, she wondered but, more to the point, would he let slip that the scheme to which he had already given his agreement committed him to a far shorter duration than that which the dowager was demanding? Crossing her fingers, she forced a smile.
‘Her ladyship has been making some suggestions as to how we might proceed,’ she said lightly, turning again to the countess. ‘Perhaps you would care to elaborate, ma’am?’
‘Mere details,’ replied the dowager, shrugging diffidently. ‘However, it has just this minute occurred to me that, had I chosen to keep up my acquaintance with the Ashingtons, Miss Wheatley’s mother, Louisa—who, you must remember, was a peeress in her own right—could well have been my goddaughter. Since it is highly improbable that there is still anyone around who might be likely to dispute this point, I believe that this is the story we should put about.’
He frowned. ‘Surely a good many of your acquaintances may well wonder why this fact has never come to light before?’
Lady Isobel glared at him and pursed her lips. ‘Do stop being so difficult, Richard!’ she retorted. ‘You really cannot expect someone of my advanced age to keep a track of every one of her numerous godchildren! It was only when Miss Wheatley’s name was drawn to my attention that I recalled the connection. That this should have occurred at the same time as you succeeded to the title is pure coincidence.’
For one moment, Helena wondered if she could have misunderstood the countess’s words for, if she had not, it would appear that her ladyship was already well into the process of believing her own fabrication. Stifling a smile, she could not resist glancing up at Markfield, in order to gauge his reaction to his grandmother’s performance. To her astonishment, the earl, too, seemed to be having some difficulty in controlling his own mirth. But then, as he caught her eye on him, he winked and gave her a quick grin, causing a sudden quiver of agitation to cascade through her. Blushing, she dropped her eyes and tried to concentrate on the countess’s continuing remarks.
‘In any event,’ her ladyship was saying, ‘it is hardly as though anyone would take it upon themselves to challenge me!’
‘That’s certainly true,’ chuckled her grandson. ‘Who would dare? I swear I have seen both dukes and generals quail at one word of disapproval from you!’
‘Enough of your sauce, my lad!’ Eyeing him balefully, the countess wagged an imperious finger at him. ‘If you have a better idea, then I am sure that both Helena and I would be glad to hear it.’
His lips still twitching, Richard shook his head and held up his hands in a playful gesture of surrender. ‘Consider me at your command, ma’am. In matters such as these, I bow to your greater expertise.’
After eyeing him suspiciously for a moment or two, the countess turned her attention back to Helena, who had been watching the interplay between Markfield and his grandparent with increased interest. It seemed clear to her that, despite the light-hearted sparring that went on between them, the two of them had considerable respect and affection for one another. This rather surprising discovery had the effect of strengthening her growing belief that this particular aristocrat was something of a cut above the likes of the motley crew with whom she had had the misfortune to associate previously. All things considered, she decided, a few weeks in his company could scarcely do her any harm and would certainly afford her father plenty of time to recover from his latest attack. Deep in contemplation, she suddenly became aware that Lady Isobel was addressing her once more.
‘You do ride, I take it?’
Helena barely had time to nod her head before the countess was firing other questions at her, concerning her ability to converse in French, stitch a sampler, play the pianoforte and dance a waltz.
‘Not that you will be allowed to do so to begin with, of course,’ added her ladyship, of the last, which Helena was obliged to admit that she had not come across, since dancing, along with the rest of her tuition, had virtually ceased at her mother’s death.
‘No matter—when the time comes, Markfield shall instruct you.’
Flicking another glance at the now-seated earl, Helena found, to her surprise, that his eyes were fixed searchingly upon her face, no doubt trying to gauge her reaction to his grandparent’s intense barrage. At his clearly concerned expression, her lips curved in an involuntary smile. Their eyes locked and, for one breathless moment, during which time the whole world seemed to shudder to a standstill, she found herself incapable of rational thought. Her heart pounding, she forced herself to tear her eyes away from his mesmerising gaze, furious with herself for having been so foolish as to allow her carefully constructed guard to drop.
All at once, Richard’s spirits rose. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed and, leaning back in his seat, reasoned that the future did not, after all, look nearly as bleak as it had a few hours earlier. Indeed, in the light of the extraordinary discovery that his grandmother appeared to be somewhat taken with her stock-broker’s rather unusual daughter, it was becoming increasingly clear that the bulk of his
