Read Online A Home for Helena (The Lady P Chronicles Book 2) by Susana Ellis - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Susana Ellis
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home.”
Helena grinned. “You do know her!”
“I do indeed,” said Lady Pendleton, shaking her head. “Do continue. What did she say to you?”
Helena's gaze clouded. "It was so uncanny how she seemed to know what I was thinking. At first I thought it must be a trick—you know how these con artists who claim to be mind readers are just really good at interpreting non-verbal cues."
Lady Pendleton leaned in closer. "She knew what you were thinking, did she? Fascinating. Fortunately, she's never been able to read mine. Go on, Miss Lloyd."
Helena described her first encounter with Mrs. Herne and her decision to follow up the conversation at Gracechurch Street.
“I had nowhere else to go," she explained. "I was forced to leave my last position because the children’s father was constantly trying to seduce me. His wife turned a blind eye for awhile, but I-I—well, I’m not that sort of person. Even if I were attracted to him, which I'm not. But he was wealthy and apparently not used to being turned down, because he's been stalking me. I was seriously considering returning to the States, but it would deplete my savings… and I really don't have anywhere to go once I got there.” She stared down at her hands. "And I really wanted to stay in England. It's like something's been drawing me here all my life."
“Hmm.” Lady Pendleton's lip curled. “Some things never change, not even in the so-called 'enlightened' times of the twenty-first century."
She tilted her head to the side. "So you've always felt drawn to England. But coming to live there was not the answer you were seeking?"
Helena wrinkled her forehead. "No. Yes. Well, there were times when I felt close to it, when I rummaged through antique shops and touched certain objects, like the portrait."
She gave a brief explanation of the portrait she'd found in the antique shop in Covent Garden. "I wish I'd thought to bring it with me. I was in such a blasted hurry… at least I have the locket, and that's only because I wear it all the time."
Lady Pendleton sighed. "You have a great deal to learn, my dear Helena. Young ladies do not swear, you know." Then she brightened. "You have a locket?"
"I do, yes," Helena said, her pulse racing. "Mrs. Herne thought it might be a clue to finding my real parents." She unclasped it from around her neck. "I guess I forgot about it in all the excitement."
“My mother—the woman who was with me when the accident happened—had this in her pocket. That doesn't mean it's mine. After all, she could have stolen it."
She opened the locket to reveal the painted miniatures inside.
“An antiques expert dated it to be from the late 1780's, from a jeweler called Rundell & Bridge. Of course, there’s nothing suggesting Helena was my name. But that’s the name given to me by Children’s Services, before I went into foster care.”
She handed over the necklace to Lady Pendleton, who shook her head in sympathy. "I am familiar with the concept. That could not have been a pleasant experience, my dear."
Reaching into her pocket, Lady Pendleton pulled out a quizzing glass and studied the figures in the locket.
“The man reminds me of someone, but the name escapes me. The woman is quite lovely, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen her before." She locked eyes with Helena. "There is a very good chance we can discover the identity of these people, Miss Lloyd. The quality of the locket indicates an affluent family, possibly a noble one. But it might take time, particularly if they do not frequent London society."
Helena's hands trembled and she felt a bit lightheaded. “It is incredibly kind of you, my lady.”
Lady Pendleton waved her thanks away. “Save your gratitude for the day you and your family are reunited. In the meantime, we have a great deal to do.”
She frowned as she surveyed Helena’s tawdry gown. “Visit the modiste, of course. I cannot possibly chaperone a young lady in society dressed as you are. But first we
Helena grinned. “You do know her!”
“I do indeed,” said Lady Pendleton, shaking her head. “Do continue. What did she say to you?”
Helena's gaze clouded. "It was so uncanny how she seemed to know what I was thinking. At first I thought it must be a trick—you know how these con artists who claim to be mind readers are just really good at interpreting non-verbal cues."
Lady Pendleton leaned in closer. "She knew what you were thinking, did she? Fascinating. Fortunately, she's never been able to read mine. Go on, Miss Lloyd."
Helena described her first encounter with Mrs. Herne and her decision to follow up the conversation at Gracechurch Street.
“I had nowhere else to go," she explained. "I was forced to leave my last position because the children’s father was constantly trying to seduce me. His wife turned a blind eye for awhile, but I-I—well, I’m not that sort of person. Even if I were attracted to him, which I'm not. But he was wealthy and apparently not used to being turned down, because he's been stalking me. I was seriously considering returning to the States, but it would deplete my savings… and I really don't have anywhere to go once I got there.” She stared down at her hands. "And I really wanted to stay in England. It's like something's been drawing me here all my life."
“Hmm.” Lady Pendleton's lip curled. “Some things never change, not even in the so-called 'enlightened' times of the twenty-first century."
She tilted her head to the side. "So you've always felt drawn to England. But coming to live there was not the answer you were seeking?"
Helena wrinkled her forehead. "No. Yes. Well, there were times when I felt close to it, when I rummaged through antique shops and touched certain objects, like the portrait."
She gave a brief explanation of the portrait she'd found in the antique shop in Covent Garden. "I wish I'd thought to bring it with me. I was in such a blasted hurry… at least I have the locket, and that's only because I wear it all the time."
Lady Pendleton sighed. "You have a great deal to learn, my dear Helena. Young ladies do not swear, you know." Then she brightened. "You have a locket?"
"I do, yes," Helena said, her pulse racing. "Mrs. Herne thought it might be a clue to finding my real parents." She unclasped it from around her neck. "I guess I forgot about it in all the excitement."
“My mother—the woman who was with me when the accident happened—had this in her pocket. That doesn't mean it's mine. After all, she could have stolen it."
She opened the locket to reveal the painted miniatures inside.
“An antiques expert dated it to be from the late 1780's, from a jeweler called Rundell & Bridge. Of course, there’s nothing suggesting Helena was my name. But that’s the name given to me by Children’s Services, before I went into foster care.”
She handed over the necklace to Lady Pendleton, who shook her head in sympathy. "I am familiar with the concept. That could not have been a pleasant experience, my dear."
Reaching into her pocket, Lady Pendleton pulled out a quizzing glass and studied the figures in the locket.
“The man reminds me of someone, but the name escapes me. The woman is quite lovely, but I can’t say I’ve ever seen her before." She locked eyes with Helena. "There is a very good chance we can discover the identity of these people, Miss Lloyd. The quality of the locket indicates an affluent family, possibly a noble one. But it might take time, particularly if they do not frequent London society."
Helena's hands trembled and she felt a bit lightheaded. “It is incredibly kind of you, my lady.”
Lady Pendleton waved her thanks away. “Save your gratitude for the day you and your family are reunited. In the meantime, we have a great deal to do.”
She frowned as she surveyed Helena’s tawdry gown. “Visit the modiste, of course. I cannot possibly chaperone a young lady in society dressed as you are. But first we
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