The Secret Wallflower Society - Jillian Eaton Page 0,50
huddled in an alley. She’d been soaked to the skin, her face covered in bruises, courtesy of her husband’s violent temper. Helena hadn’t hesitated in her decision to take the duchess into her home, and she’d been looking after Percy ever since.
Collectively, the three ladies had formed what they’d named the Secret Wallflower Society. A formal name for an informal group of women who had bonded over old hurts and unconventional eccentricities that set them apart from the rest of the ton.
“It’s just a dress,” Calliope said even as she blushed with pleasure from the compliments. “Do you think Leo will like it?”
“He’s going to love it,” Helena promised. “You’re still leaving for Scotland right after the ceremony?”
Calliope held up her arms as the modiste started to remove the pins she’d placed after making a few small, last minute adjustments. “Yes. Leo is very eager to spend some time alone.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Helena said, a mischievous smirk dancing around the corners of her mouth. Then she thought of her own wedding night, and the smirk abruptly disappeared.
The consummation of her marriage was something she hadn’t shared with anyone. At least not in its entirety. It was an ugly secret she’d put in a box and locked away. A secret shame she couldn’t even think of without experiencing an unpleasant flush at the back of her neck and a queasy tightening to her stomach.
“It’s going to be so very romantic,” Percy sighed. “Just the two of you in a charming little cottage in the middle of the woods. Like something out a fairytale.”
“As long as we’re not eaten by a bear,” Calliope grimaced.
“A bear wouldn’t dare.” Swallowing hard, Helena shoved all her memories of Cambridge, and that night, back into the box where they belonged. “And if it did, he’d have me to reckon with.”
“And me,” Percy added loyally.
Calliope smiled at her friends. “I can’t believe the day is finally here.”
“Almost here,” Helena corrected. “We still have to get you to the estate.”
The wedding was to take place in a small village church within walking distance of Winchester Manor. As the sprawling country estate was only a two-hour journey from London by carriage, the women had decided to remain in town until tomorrow so as not to risk Leo seeing his bride before the nuptials. They were all spending the night with Helena, then making the short trip together first thing in the morning.
After Calliope and Leo departed for their honeymoon, Percy and Helena were going to remain at the manor for a short holiday, as neither of them had a home in the country. Well, a home they could openly visit, anyway.
As the Duchess of Glastonbury, Percy had her very own castle in Sussex. But she couldn’t go there. Not unless she wanted her husband to discover her whereabouts. Which she didn’t.
None of them did.
It was risky business, hiding a duchess from one of the most powerful men in all of England. But what choice did they have? Helena refused to let Percy go back to the duke. Not after she’d seen the bruises that had taken weeks to fade. And the fear that still flickered in the depths of the duchess’s eyes whenever a man she didn’t know entered the room, or an unexpected sound startled her, or someone knocked on the door.
Percy put on a brave front. But while her bruises had faded, it was clear that injuries still existed beneath the surface. Injuries born from years of pain and fear and abuse at the cruel hands of a man who should have been her protector.
So, Helena would protect her now. For as long as necessary, she would stand between Percy and the monster in duke’s clothing. And if anyone ever asked her why she would do such a thing, the answer was simple: it was what she wished someone had done for her.
Before she’d been forced to take matters in her own hands.
“–Told us what you’re wearing yet.” Calliope looked at Helena expectedly, and too late Helena realized she’d stopped following the conversation.
“What?” she asked, feigning a sudden interest in a bolt of rich velvet fabric.
“You haven’t told us what you’re wearing yet. To the wedding. Tomorrow.” Calliope frowned. “Is everything all right? You’ve seemed…uncharacteristically distracted.”
That was one way to put it.
“I’m fine.” Summoning a smile, Helena buttoned her pelisse and picked up her reticule. “As to what I’m wearing, it pales in comparison to your magnificent gown. Leo isn’t going to be able to take