A Duchess a Day (Awakened by a Kiss #1) - Charis Michaels Page 0,72
and plumage and women standing too close to candelabras while their headdresses catch flame. He could don any number of costumes and not be detected. Or, what’s more likely, he may infiltrate the ranks of the hosts’ footmen.”
“Oh, Lena. Forget your love for him. Obviously, he loves you.”
“You are too young to speak of love,” Helena said flippantly, dropping an arm over her eyes.
These were just words to say, of course. Perhaps Camille knew more of love than any of them. Their parents hadn’t properly modeled love, not the love she wanted.
Camille had no reply, and Helena regretted being dismissive. She tried again. “Shaw has some concerns about our differences in rank. Apparently.”
“I cannot say I am surprised,” Camille said. “I would be concerned if he did not.”
“Why?”
“Well, I’d regard him as a fortune hunter for one,” said Camille. “If he did not bring up rank, it might mean he intends to slide himself into the prosperity of Papa’s earldom. You know, sort of, Oh? Were you a fabulously wealthy earl’s daughter? Will marriage into your family position me for a life of luxury? I hadn’t noticed. When he resists, he’s acknowledging that being a lady is a significant part of your identity.”
“He has no intention of sliding,” Helena said. “I assure you. He doesn’t like aristocrats.”
“And also, it would be selfish and unfeeling of him not to question what your life will be like if you marry outside the peerage. He is, after all, a stable groom.”
“He is more than a groom actually.”
“Do tell.”
Helena shook her head. “Never you mind. What matters is the house left to me by Gran. And the orchard. They matter very much. I can provide for us both, no matter if he’s a servant or the man in the moon.”
“I’m not saying it’s impossible,” said Camille. “I’m simply glad he’s being honest. And asking you to consider the ramifications.”
Considering ramifications seemed like the only thing Declan wanted to do. They’d discussed it before they’d entered the museum. On the walk home. He’d sent a note by stable boy.
And Helena had thought about it, dismissing his reservations now as she had then.
“I’ve nothing more to say about the topic of Declan Shaw,” Helena told her sister, “except that, yes, we have specific things we want to accomplish, and I hope he will be nearby tonight. I’ve no other allies, and he will fortify me—if he does not actively help me. Which he may do. God only knows what will happen.” She picked up the butterfly mask and held it to her face.
“I’ve thought you’d done a very noble job, all on your own. These last five years.”
“I cannot run away forever,” said Helena. “And anyway, I need his help. But moreover, I simply want him.”
She didn’t say the rest, but she thought, I want to be with him more than any other combination of ways I can be. I want him more than I want to be alone. More than I want my family. More than I want to be in the forest.
She wanted him.
She loved him.
She could acknowledge that now. And Camille could guess it—clearly. Which was something she probably needed to address.
“Please don’t tell anyone, Cam,” said Helena, dropping the mask.
“I won’t. You have my word.” Camille smiled sadly at her sister. “I’m sorry Papa is selling you to gain shares in the duke’s limestone mine.”
“Yes,” sighed Helena. “So am I. But it’s not official until I walk down the aisle. So. There is still time.” She stepped to her sister. “And I appear to be acquiring unlikely allies right and left. Thank you for listening to me. For warning me.”
“Thank you for being true to yourself. All along.”
She was just about to embrace her when Meg bustled into the room with an armful of fresh flowers. “We’re in luck,” chirped the maid. “There were anemones. Oh, but I’ve learned some other news. The duke’s valet was polishing his boots belowstairs. He told me Lusk is going to the ball dressed as a man-shaped slab of Somerset limestone.”
Chapter Eighteen
Declan infiltrated the masquerade ball as the Huntsman.
It had been his father’s idea. With Helena occupied throughout the day, he’d asked Girdleston for a day off and gone to his father’s shop in Savile Row.
After an avalanche of questions from his sisters about Somerset, and Castle Wood, and if the village had assemblies of handsome men, the three of them worked together to construct a costume.
His “Huntsman” identity wasn’t known outside of military and security