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The Untamed Heiress. Julia JustissЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Untamed Heiress - Julia Justiss


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in a more cheerful direction. The rest of the afternoon passed agreeably in that endeavor, with Madame agreeing to have several designs completed for Helena within the week.

      After the dressmaker’s departure, Harrison brought in the tea tray, bending low to murmur to Lady Darnell before bowing himself out. Frowning, her aunt turned to Helena.

      “My dear, Harrison just told me you paid a visit to the kitchens today in search of a temporary maid.”

      She was about to be chastised for her sins, Helena thought, armoring herself against the coming scold and resentful of Harrison for immediately reporting her breach of decorum. But then, what had she expected?

      A frisson of dismay dissipated her annoyance. Having once again demonstrated just how untutored she was, would Aunt Lillian’s warm affection for her cool?

      Ready to suffer any punishment to retain her aunt’s good will, she replied in her most penitent tone, “Yes, ma’am, I did, and I do apologize. From the staff’s reaction, I saw immediately that I had made an error.”

      “You should have let Harrison handle it.”

      “So Mrs. Baxtor informed me. I tried to leave as quickly as I could once I realized my error, but I’m afraid the housekeeper must think me rather odd. I am sorry, Aunt Lillian. I didn’t mean to upset the household.”

      To Helena’s immense relief, Lady Darnell patted her hand. “Don’t refine too much upon it, my dear! I suppose it must have seemed quite logical for you to inquire about it yourself. But such things are not done directly.”

      “So the housekeeper also informed me,” Helena said.

      Lady Darnell chuckled. “Mrs. Baxtor is a bit tart-tongued, but vastly efficient! You must treat servants fairly and with respect, but at a distance. Although it might seem otherwise, if you are too familiar, they will think you do not know your place and disdain you for it.”

      Helena smiled wryly. “They are right. I do not.”

      “But you soon will! Harrison said you made quite a good recovery. You mustn’t fault him for reporting the matter to me, for if you had not already won his respect, he would not have done so! He told me that with a bit of guidance, he expects you will make an excellent mistress. Which is quite a tribute, my dear, considering you have been with us barely a day.”

      “I hope I will ever follow your guidance.”

      “I am sure you will,” Lady Darnell replied, squeezing Helena’s hand. “Now, shall we have our tea?”

      Having armed herself to suffer serious chastisement, it took Helena a moment to realize that Lady Darnell considered the matter settled. Still rattled by the encounter, Helena sipped her tea silently, unable to remember when she’d last made any error for which she’d not been severely punished. A bit more of the hard shell in which she’d had to encase her emotions softened as a wave of gratitude flooded her.

      While she pondered the marvel of her aunt’s forbearance, Charis and Lady Darnell discussed the various entertainments offered by the Season and how much Helena would enjoy them when, several weeks hence, she was gowned, coifed and confident enough about her mastery of ton etiquette to attend. A riot of contending emotions roiled in her chest as she listened—awe at the easy dismissal of her error, surprise at Harrison’s unexpected championship, relief that she had not altered Lady Darnell’s affection.

      Just then Charis mentioned a dinner the two ladies were to attend that coming Thursday. Recalling what she had planned for that day, Helena felt a pang of guilt.

      A moment’s reflection, though, convinced her that it was essential she follow through with her engagement. ’Twas fortunate, then, she reflected as she sipped the rest of her tea, that she’d had years to perfect her skill at evasion, for if Lady Darnell were to discover the nature of this coming excursion, her sympathetic aunt would doubtless be much less understanding.

      

      WHILE THE LADIES WERE TAKING tea, Adam was calling in Grosvenor Square to take Miss Standish to the park.

      The lady first impressed him by keeping him waiting only a few minutes. Then, garbed in an unadorned carriage dress of medium blue that intensified the hue of her eyes, blond curls peeping out from under a fetching bonnet that framed her oval face, her understated elegance and modest demeanor again elicited both his admiration and approval.

      After he’d handed her up and remounted himself, he signaled the horses to start and turned to her. “I must thank you for overlooking the impetuosity of my request and agreeing to drive out with me anyway. You would have been quite justified in putting this upstart in his place by refusing, if only to gratify your other suitors.”

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