Loving Helen by Michele Paige Holmes Read Free Book Online

Boulangere, how to properly carry a reticule and use a fan, and how to address members of the gentry — all so Grace might be considered an accomplished young woman. Helen and Christopher had received instruction, too, but not in the same urgent and rushed manner as Grace. And because of the attention initially focused on her, the younger siblings had been allowed hours of freedom and idleness, for the first time in their lives.
    Remembering those times with much fondness, and missing her siblings, Helen crossed beneath the arch and into Mr. Preston’s garden for the second time that day. At least one good thing had come of her meeting this morning — Mr. Preston had invited her to enjoy the garden whenever she wished. She intended to avail herself of that offer before the weather forced her indoors for a season — a season sure to be dreary without either Grace or Christopher for company. And now she’d lost her hopes of Mr. Preston’s companionship as well.
    The day had not gone at all as she’d expected, and Helen realized the fault was hers. For all her preparations at gaining Mr. Preston’s attention with her appearance, she had not taken the same pains thinking over what to say to him. Admiring him from afar was one thing; being near him, as she had discovered today, was entirely different. It had not been unpleasant — she still fancied him as much as ever — but she realized that she did not know the first thing about conversing with a gentleman,
    If only Christopher were here. He might have had some suggestions. But his sojourn in London seemed never-ending, as did the fight for their inheritance.
    She followed the path to the courtyard where she’d discovered Mr. Preston that morning. In addition to not thinking through what she might say to him earlier, she hadn’t considered what his feelings might be, either. It had not previously occurred to her that he might still be grieving his deceased wife.
    When her mother died, Helen had been too young to remember whether their father had been sorrowful, but she very much doubted it, other than mourning the income Mother had brought in.
    But Mr. Preston seemed as opposite a man as one could be from her father, and Helen felt she ought to have known that his heart would still be tender. She knew it now and never would forget the forlorn sight of him this morning.
    Instead of continuing around the house, Helen took the second path, taking care with her bare feet and admiring the colors and fragrances of the garden as she walked. Somewhere this direction was the wall separating Mr. Preston’s property from Lord Sutherland’s.
    Grace is on the other side. A longing for her sister filled Helen.
    But Mr. Preston had asked that Helen not let Grace know of her proximity. He did not wish Grace to know her family was so close. At first Helen had believed this to be terribly cruel, but then he had explained himself. He wanted to give Lord Sutherland and Grace every opportunity to work their situation out on their own, even to fall in love with each other — a very real possibility, he believed.
    From Grace’s letters, Helen could see it happening already. In spite of their differences — in spite of Lord Sutherland’s ogre-like nature — Grace was coming to care for him.
    Helen followed the path around another corner and came to the end of both the gate and the stone path as she nearly ran into the very wall she’d been thinking of.
    I didn’t realize I was so close. Mr. Preston might be upset to find me here. But Mr. Preston himself sat perched on the wall only a short distance away, his manner quite different from what it had been when she’d discovered him in the courtyard. He sat casually, folded arms propped on his bent knee, his other leg swinging in time to his whistling as he looked down upon — Grace! She stood on the opposite side of the fence, her head just visible above it.
    “I think I shall lose my mind if I don’t find something more to do