Read Online A Home for Helena (The Lady P Chronicles Book 2) by Susana Ellis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susana Ellis
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shall have to come up with a socially-acceptable background for you, one that can be used to explain your absence from your family once your true identity is discovered. We must do that now, before the servants return from their holiday. You know how servants gossip, my dear. Even mine are susceptible, and they are the most loyal servants around.”
It was decided that Helena would be the daughter of one of Lady Pendleton’s school friends—“because no one will remember that far back in the past”—who married an American and sent her daughter to London to seek a husband.
When Helena balked at that last, Lady Pendleton insisted that no mother worth her salt would send her daughter to a virtual stranger for any other reason. “It’s true that you are older than the usual debutante, but you are still youthful in appearance and pretty enough to attract gentlemen, particularly when we make it known that you are an heiress.”
“An heiress?” Helena thought she must have heard incorrectly. “Absolutely not! I did not come here to find a husband, and I will certainly not make up stuff to get one!”
Lady Pendleton sighed. “No, of course not. I forgot that ladies of the future were so—independent. There is so much more for women to do there; no doubt that is why I feel drawn to visit the future so often. Still,” she said, turning to Helena, shoulders set, “you must become accustomed to the fact that there is little for ladies to do here outside of marriage. If you decide to remain here, of course.”
Helena felt a slight heaviness in her stomach. “I don’t know. It all depends…” Would she find her family? Would they accept her? Would she like them? Could she adapt to their way of living? Would the charm Mrs. Herne gave her to return even work? Helena suddenly felt very tired.
It must have shown in her eyes, because Lady Pendleton patted her hands and smiled sympathetically.
“What am I thinking, to grill you so relentlessly so soon after the ordeal of the journey through time? I am always exceedingly tired that first day. You need to rest, my dear. As soon as the servants return, I’ll have them prepare a bath for you. In the meantime, you may rest in my bedchamber.”
She guided Helena up the stairs, where she helped her out of her clothing and into a lavender silk nightgown. “That color looks well on you. I shall remember to inform Madame Fouchier when we visit her shop tomorrow. Although I think you would look well in apple-green. Maybe even pumpkin?”
“Pumpkin? Oh no! I look dreadful in orange!” Helena protested. “Why not blue… or pink?”
Lady Pendleton shook her head. “Oh dear me no, not with those green eyes!”
They argued good-naturedly until Lady Pendleton pulled the covers over her. “Rest, my dear. When you awake, the servants will be returned and I’ll have a tray sent up to you. And this"—she said retrieving the red gown from a chair—“will be relegated to the rag bag.”
Too tired to protest, Helena curled up on her side and was asleep almost before her hostess closed the door behind her.
----
H elena awoke to an unfamiliar room and the hand of a stranger gently shaking her shoulder. About her own age, the young woman wore a gray-striped uniform and had a white mobcap over her light brown curls.
“Time to wake, miss. Cook has sent up a cold supper.” At Helena’s startled expression, she added, “I’m Izzy Peters. Lady Pendleton's abigail.”
Helena took a deep breath as her memory returned. Thiswas not a dream. She really had traveled back in time to the nineteenth century.
“What time is it, Izzy?” It was still daylight, but Helena knew that in summer it was daylight until nearly ten in London.
“Around half-past eight, miss. Her Ladyship checked on you mid-afternoon and said you was sleepin’ real sound-like. She thought you’d be hungry when you woke and ordered a cold collation as soon as Cook came through the door.”
Her Ladyship. Lady
It was decided that Helena would be the daughter of one of Lady Pendleton’s school friends—“because no one will remember that far back in the past”—who married an American and sent her daughter to London to seek a husband.
When Helena balked at that last, Lady Pendleton insisted that no mother worth her salt would send her daughter to a virtual stranger for any other reason. “It’s true that you are older than the usual debutante, but you are still youthful in appearance and pretty enough to attract gentlemen, particularly when we make it known that you are an heiress.”
“An heiress?” Helena thought she must have heard incorrectly. “Absolutely not! I did not come here to find a husband, and I will certainly not make up stuff to get one!”
Lady Pendleton sighed. “No, of course not. I forgot that ladies of the future were so—independent. There is so much more for women to do there; no doubt that is why I feel drawn to visit the future so often. Still,” she said, turning to Helena, shoulders set, “you must become accustomed to the fact that there is little for ladies to do here outside of marriage. If you decide to remain here, of course.”
Helena felt a slight heaviness in her stomach. “I don’t know. It all depends…” Would she find her family? Would they accept her? Would she like them? Could she adapt to their way of living? Would the charm Mrs. Herne gave her to return even work? Helena suddenly felt very tired.
It must have shown in her eyes, because Lady Pendleton patted her hands and smiled sympathetically.
“What am I thinking, to grill you so relentlessly so soon after the ordeal of the journey through time? I am always exceedingly tired that first day. You need to rest, my dear. As soon as the servants return, I’ll have them prepare a bath for you. In the meantime, you may rest in my bedchamber.”
She guided Helena up the stairs, where she helped her out of her clothing and into a lavender silk nightgown. “That color looks well on you. I shall remember to inform Madame Fouchier when we visit her shop tomorrow. Although I think you would look well in apple-green. Maybe even pumpkin?”
“Pumpkin? Oh no! I look dreadful in orange!” Helena protested. “Why not blue… or pink?”
Lady Pendleton shook her head. “Oh dear me no, not with those green eyes!”
They argued good-naturedly until Lady Pendleton pulled the covers over her. “Rest, my dear. When you awake, the servants will be returned and I’ll have a tray sent up to you. And this"—she said retrieving the red gown from a chair—“will be relegated to the rag bag.”
Too tired to protest, Helena curled up on her side and was asleep almost before her hostess closed the door behind her.
----
H elena awoke to an unfamiliar room and the hand of a stranger gently shaking her shoulder. About her own age, the young woman wore a gray-striped uniform and had a white mobcap over her light brown curls.
“Time to wake, miss. Cook has sent up a cold supper.” At Helena’s startled expression, she added, “I’m Izzy Peters. Lady Pendleton's abigail.”
Helena took a deep breath as her memory returned. Thiswas not a dream. She really had traveled back in time to the nineteenth century.
“What time is it, Izzy?” It was still daylight, but Helena knew that in summer it was daylight until nearly ten in London.
“Around half-past eight, miss. Her Ladyship checked on you mid-afternoon and said you was sleepin’ real sound-like. She thought you’d be hungry when you woke and ordered a cold collation as soon as Cook came through the door.”
Her Ladyship. Lady
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