Helena could not bear to sit in her room another minute. But to go downstairs too soon would seem eager. What if the Duke of Durham heard her playing her harp long before their rendezvous? He would know then, that she had arrived early and had been waiting for him for some time. Yet the harp was the very thing that would relax her now.

She picked up several books and tried to read to no avail. She even tried to take a nap, which proved disastrous. She dozed lightly, only to be awakened when a servant girl came in with wood for her fire, startling them both. Helena had sat up, groggy and disoriented and sent the girl running.

Ever the beast, she thought grimly. I truly must ... must make an effort to change.

Finally, she could bear it no longer. Perhaps she could spend some time with Bridget in the kitchen watching her work the way she had as a child. She had not done so in such a long time, that she remembered the warmth of the workspace now with a particular fondness. Besides, then they could go together to the parlor, though Bridget had promised to be there right at the appointed time, despite the busyness of the kitchen.

“I shall have Maureen manage the serving up. Do not worry yourself, old Bridget will be there,” she had promised then gone back to supervising the peeling of the vegetables for the night’s stew.

Helena slipped out of her room and was halfway to the stairs when she heard a door open behind her. It was the voice of her aunt that stopped her. Helena almost automatically scratched at the lesion on her wrist through her glove as she turned to face Phoebe, who looked none too happy to be there.

“Yes, Aunt Phoebe?” she asked pleasantly, wishing she were better skilled in subterfuge for surely it had to be written upon her face that she was going to a secret meeting with her would-be lover.

“Why are you out of your room? I thought I told you clearly you were not to leave until dinner as punishment for your actions last night,” Phoebe said, her eyes narrowed in the way that they always had when Helena had been caught in some mischief as a child.

She had forgotten. She had actually forgotten that her father’s punishment was to stay in her room today, but for meals until dinner, at which point she would be allowed to entertain their guest after dinner by playing something ‘pleasant’ upon her harp.

“‘Twas only for a minute…” she began, knowing full well she would get nowhere with this. Though deep inside there was a small voice that had been reminding her of late that she was no longer a child, nor able to be punished in such a way. Others of her peers had been married, already with two or three children by now, and well managed their own households. Why did her father and aunt persist in seeing her only as a child?

So, it was she lifted her chin and found her voice for perhaps the first time in her life. “I am going to the sitting room. I wish to play the harp before dinner…for practice. I fear I have not played as much of late and will not put on near so fine as a performance as we saw last night.”

Phoebe’s lips tightened. “You defy your father then?” she asked, and for a moment Helena wondered if her aunt was so hard on her because her father, in turn, would be difficult with Phoebe for not keeping his unruly daughter under control.

Was it fair of her to hurt someone else to get what she wanted? Was that not the entire reason why she was going to meet with the Duke in the first place?

Helena sighed. She was tired of lies and subterfuge. She’d had quite enough and was suddenly very tired.

“Aunt Phoebe, what I say will likely come as a surprise, but I have been lying to you for some time now. It is in regards to the Duke of Durham and his reasons for being here.”

Then before she lost her courage, she spilled out the entire story, starting with the woman who had been lost in the blizzard and ending with her decision to end the entire affair before she hurt him any further.

There was a long moment of silence as Aunt Phoebe stared at her, her face carefully expressionless. Aunt Phoebe was like that, one to think things through before answering, and so Helena waited, though her heart quailed within her. Honestly, she should not have lied for so long, and it felt a terrible relief to have the full truth out in the open.

But it was also terrifying to think what terrible punishment would be meted out upon her for her behavior.

When Phoebe spoke, she seemed somewhat resigned. “Helena, I can only imagine what my dead sister would think to hear such a tale from your lips. Your behavior is absolutely appalling, and should your father find out about it, I shudder to think of the consequences.”

Helena shuddered despite herself. Deciding it was time to grow up and face the consequences for her actions was one thing. Actually, experiencing those consequences quite another. She had no doubt he would banish her to the country estate after this and never allow her out at all. Why…he might even take Phoebe from her.

Panicked now, Helena reached for her aunt’s hands. “Please, Aunt Phoebe, what do I need to do to make this right? I was already trying. I swear to you that my only intent in meeting him was to tell him the bargain is null and void. He can keep the brooch. I have no care for it anymore, and if it helps him somehow, maybe it will serve as payment for the damage I have already done him.”

Phoebe pursed her lips as she thought. “Your heart is in the right place, my sweet child, but you are entirely risking far too much in meeting him like that. Should Bridget be delayed, the scandal would be incredible. No, it is best you return to your rooms. Allow me to go in your place. I will explain things in a way that I think will leave everyone well satisfied.”

Helena’s heart leapt within her breast. While she longed so to see him again, to speak with him privately was too great a risk. Maybe it was better this way after all.

Still, she could not help but feel a twinge of disappointment that left her stomach churning and warring against the knowledge that this was indeed the right thing to do. She’d also wanted to see him, to be with him, even under the watchful gaze of her chaperone, because to be without him left a pang of sadness within her that could not be erased.

Maybe that is my penance, for acting so selfishly, she thought as she nodded miserably and returned to her door. Her footsteps lagged, and somehow the walk to her room became a journey of a thousand miles.

“Thank you, Aunt Phoebe,” she said quietly as she passed, pausing outside her room with her hand on the doorknob. “Tell him…” She tried to think, but none of the words in her mind were adequate to the task. “Tell him I am more sorry than he could ever possibly realize,” she said finally.

Then taking a deep breath, she slipped into the room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

It is better this way, she thought stubbornly as she leaned heavily on the door, too tired suddenly to go any further.

She did not start crying until she was sure her aunt was long gone and not likely to overhear her.