Read Online A Home for Helena (The Lady P Chronicles Book 2) by Susana Ellis - Free Book Online
Authors: Susana Ellis
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explain her presence. How to begin without seeming to be a lunatic?
“If you are here to apply for the position of upstairs maid, you are most unsuitably dressed, girl.”
Helena swallowed. “I-I-uh-I've come to see Lady Pendleton. Mrs. Herne sent me. She thought Her Ladyship might be willing to help me.”
The woman's mouth fell open. “Mrs. Herne? Ethelberta Herne? From Gracechurch Street? How did you happen to meet her?”
Helena felt a sudden release of tension. “In London. At the sandwich shop across fromthe street from the Museum of London.” She peered beyond the woman into the elegant foyer. “May I sit down while I wait to see Lady Pendleton? I'm feeling a bit faint.” Her thoughts were jumbled and she had the beginnings of a headache. Caffeine withdrawal. She hadn't had her usual java before setting off on this wild, impulsive journey.
Suddenly all concern, the woman opened the door and waved her into the foyer.
“Of course, my dear. Do come in. I am Lady Pendleton."
Helena grinned. "I knew you weren't the housekeeper," she said triumphantly as she followed Her Ladyship down the hall to a lovely receiving room with sage green walls decorated with paintings. It reminded her of the gallery at Osterley Park, although it was much smaller.
"No indeed," her hostess said with a wide grin. "I don't usually answer the door, but the fact is, I am all alone here after I gave the servants the day off." She gave Helena a speculative look. "It's a holiday, you know. They all wished to see the dedication of the new bridge. Although I believe the real attraction was the carnival in the park."
She waved Helena to an armchair covered in bottle-green velvet.
"I would offer you a cup of tea, but I couldn't begin to manage Mrs. Hunt's stove. I can offer a glass of sherry, however. You do drink sherry, do you not, Miss-uh—?”
“Lloyd,” Helena responded. “Helena Lloyd. And yes, a glass of sherry would be most welcome, Lady Pendleton." And while she waited: "I suppose you did not wish to see the dedication yourself, my lady?"
Her Ladyship shrugged as she finished pouring the sherry into two glasses. "A bridge is a bridge. And as much as I enjoy the privilege of having servants cook my food and launder my clothing, there are times when I long for a bit of solitude. I wonder if you can relate to that, Miss Lloyd?"
Helena could. "There's nothing like a quiet evening with a book and a cup of hot chocolate," she offered.
"With marshmallows," Lady Pendleton agreed as she seated herself on a pale yellow settee and set her glass down on the table nearby.
"Yes." Did marshmallows exist in the nineteenth century?
“Miss Lloyd, let us get to the point. Where have you come from and why has Ethelberta sent you here? I detect an American accent, but I sense that it is more than that."
Helena pushed her shoulders back. "You are correct, my lady. I am American and I have come from the twenty-first century in search of my family. My true family. You see, I believe it is quite possible that I was born in this time period and somehow transported to the future."
----
“ I was a baby when my mother—or the woman I’ve always thought was my mother—was killed in a car accident in Tampa. That’s in Florida,” Helena added as an afterthought.
“Yes, yes, I am familiar with Florida…,” said Lady Pendleton in a sharp tone. “Do go on, my dear. I am anxious to know how you came into contact with Ethelberta there, of all places.”
“Oh it wasn’t there,” explained Helena. “It wasn’t until recently that I met her, in London. I had just left my position as a nanny and was trying to decide what to do next when this woman—a gypsy lady—approached me in a sandwich shop. What she said to me was quite intriguing, so I bought her some food and we had a most interesting chat.”
“Yes, that sounds like her,” said Lady Pendleton, pursuing her lips. “No doubt she purported to have left her reticule at
“If you are here to apply for the position of upstairs maid, you are most unsuitably dressed, girl.”
Helena swallowed. “I-I-uh-I've come to see Lady Pendleton. Mrs. Herne sent me. She thought Her Ladyship might be willing to help me.”
The woman's mouth fell open. “Mrs. Herne? Ethelberta Herne? From Gracechurch Street? How did you happen to meet her?”
Helena felt a sudden release of tension. “In London. At the sandwich shop across fromthe street from the Museum of London.” She peered beyond the woman into the elegant foyer. “May I sit down while I wait to see Lady Pendleton? I'm feeling a bit faint.” Her thoughts were jumbled and she had the beginnings of a headache. Caffeine withdrawal. She hadn't had her usual java before setting off on this wild, impulsive journey.
Suddenly all concern, the woman opened the door and waved her into the foyer.
“Of course, my dear. Do come in. I am Lady Pendleton."
Helena grinned. "I knew you weren't the housekeeper," she said triumphantly as she followed Her Ladyship down the hall to a lovely receiving room with sage green walls decorated with paintings. It reminded her of the gallery at Osterley Park, although it was much smaller.
"No indeed," her hostess said with a wide grin. "I don't usually answer the door, but the fact is, I am all alone here after I gave the servants the day off." She gave Helena a speculative look. "It's a holiday, you know. They all wished to see the dedication of the new bridge. Although I believe the real attraction was the carnival in the park."
She waved Helena to an armchair covered in bottle-green velvet.
"I would offer you a cup of tea, but I couldn't begin to manage Mrs. Hunt's stove. I can offer a glass of sherry, however. You do drink sherry, do you not, Miss-uh—?”
“Lloyd,” Helena responded. “Helena Lloyd. And yes, a glass of sherry would be most welcome, Lady Pendleton." And while she waited: "I suppose you did not wish to see the dedication yourself, my lady?"
Her Ladyship shrugged as she finished pouring the sherry into two glasses. "A bridge is a bridge. And as much as I enjoy the privilege of having servants cook my food and launder my clothing, there are times when I long for a bit of solitude. I wonder if you can relate to that, Miss Lloyd?"
Helena could. "There's nothing like a quiet evening with a book and a cup of hot chocolate," she offered.
"With marshmallows," Lady Pendleton agreed as she seated herself on a pale yellow settee and set her glass down on the table nearby.
"Yes." Did marshmallows exist in the nineteenth century?
“Miss Lloyd, let us get to the point. Where have you come from and why has Ethelberta sent you here? I detect an American accent, but I sense that it is more than that."
Helena pushed her shoulders back. "You are correct, my lady. I am American and I have come from the twenty-first century in search of my family. My true family. You see, I believe it is quite possible that I was born in this time period and somehow transported to the future."
----
“ I was a baby when my mother—or the woman I’ve always thought was my mother—was killed in a car accident in Tampa. That’s in Florida,” Helena added as an afterthought.
“Yes, yes, I am familiar with Florida…,” said Lady Pendleton in a sharp tone. “Do go on, my dear. I am anxious to know how you came into contact with Ethelberta there, of all places.”
“Oh it wasn’t there,” explained Helena. “It wasn’t until recently that I met her, in London. I had just left my position as a nanny and was trying to decide what to do next when this woman—a gypsy lady—approached me in a sandwich shop. What she said to me was quite intriguing, so I bought her some food and we had a most interesting chat.”
“Yes, that sounds like her,” said Lady Pendleton, pursuing her lips. “No doubt she purported to have left her reticule at
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