An Outrageous Proposal.

Helene had a shrewd feeling that she would be besieged with morning callers. No staid matron could chop off all her hair, put on a flagrantly outrageous gown, and disappear from a ballroom with the Earl of Mayne, without every single female acquaintance she had in the world-and several whom she did not-developing a burning ambition to partake of tea at her house.

So she instructed Mrs. Crewe to prepare for callers and then put on a recklessly daring morning gown sent by Madame Rocque, so that she could entertain all those who might have missed her appearance the previous night. The morning gown was of a style with the gown she had worn to the ball: the cut of the bodice was almost prudish, but the fabric was so fine that it floated around her body, allowing every curve to speak for itself.

But she felt no pleasure in shocking her visitors. In the morning she had discovered that she had her monthly, and only the fact that she had already darkened her lashes prevented her from bursting into tears. It wasn't until she read the very first card brought in by her mother's butler that Helene shed her listlessness like a snake sheds its skin.

Her heart started beating quickly and her cheeks suddenly turned a pink that had nothing to do with cosmetics. "How could you?" she cried, the moment the door opened. She had been thinking about blistering Esme's ears ever since waking up.

Except Esme was followed by William, a plump, cheerful one-year-old. William didn't see the point of solitary walking; he trusted his nursemaid, Ivy, to keep him upright while he tugged on her finger and pointed. And now he wanted to go to Helene, so Ivy walked him across the room. William had his father's golden hair and blue eyes, but that mischievous twinkle in his eyes was all Esme's.

"Hello, sweet William!" Helene said, holding out her arms. He let go of his nurse's hand and walked one step alone, toppling toward her like a falling star. She scooped him up and tickled him for a moment, and then kissed him all over his curly little head. He smelled wonderful, like bread-and-milk pudding and baby.

"This was very clever of you," Helene observed, giving William's mother a narrow-eyed glance.

"I know," said Esme happily. "I expect you've consigned me to the dungeon, darling, and Lord knows I deserve to be." She turned to Ivy. "I think William will be just fine with us for a short while, Ivy, if you'd like to greet Mrs. Crewe."

William's nursemaid curtsied and took herself out of the sitting room with dispatch. "Ivy is in love with one of my grooms," Esme said. "Now she'll peek out the door and drive the poor lad to distraction."

"How could you do such a thing?" Helene scolded, although it was difficult to sound severe when William's giggles filled the air. "How dare you tell Rees that I was intending to get myself with child?"

"It was the most practical solution," Esme said, looking not at all repentant. "I gave a lot of thought to illegitimate children two years ago. Miles and I hadn't lived together for ten years, and there he was in love with Lady Childe. But I decided finally that it made far more sense to approach my own husband than to bear an illegitimate child, and the same is true for you."

"You should have simply told me," Helene scolded. "As it was, I was positively mortified. You should have seen Mayne's face when-"

"No, wait!" Esme cried. "You mustn't describe what happened last night until Gina arrives. She said she'd be here early, and she threatened me with murder if I allowed you to begin the tale without her. We are both quite moribund with curiosity. And Helene, we must instruct your butler that you're not receiving for at least an hour. You do realize that all of London will be here this morning, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Helene said irritably. "Why would I be wearing this drafty garment if I didn't know that? Every scandal-mongering matron from here to York will be on my doorstep."

"Matrons!" Esme cried. "Who cares for such trifles? All the men in London will be here, which is why it matters that you look exquisite. Do you know, I think that lip color is more suited to you than anyone I have ever known? It makes your mouth look as ripe as a berry."

"You sound like the worst kind of flatterer. The foolish things were said to me last night! I danced with Gerard Bunge and he kept sighing, and saying that I looked like a tree-nymph in springtime."

"What a coincidence," Esme said acidly. "So did he."

At that moment, Harries announced the Duchess of Girton, Esme announced she was positively starved, and William fell over and bumped his head against a table, so the conversation proper didn't start again until Ivy had borne William downstairs for a consolatory pudding, and Harries had been instructed to bring sustenance, and deny entrance to anyone for one hour.

"Now tell me all!" Gina said gaily. The Duchess of Girton had beautiful green eyes and pale red hair. She could turn in a heartbeat from being the most composed, regal woman in London, to being doubled over with fits of wicked laughter. "Helene, darling, you look so elegant! I sent a message to Madame Rocque this morning for an appointment. After hearing about your gown from at least four different women last night, I want precisely the same. Although I promise to order it in a different color," she added.

Helene couldn't help smiling. "How is Max?"

Gina wrinkled her nose. "A despot. I do believe he's the only child in all England who doesn't sleep at night. Now he's teething, and he must have his mama at night or he screams so loudly that even the staff can't sleep. Cam says I must just leave him, and then he'll get used to Nurse, but I can't bear his cries."

"William howls his head off during the night sometimes," Esme said cheerfully. "I must be a very unnatural mother, because I leave him to Ivy."

"I wish I could do that," Gina said.

"Much more important," Esme told Gina, "is the fact that just before you arrived last night, Mayne swept Helene into the music room, and Rees came pounding after her, and the next thing I heard, Mayne had come out with a brow like thunder, as they say."

They both turned and looked expectantly at Helene.

"I got my monthly this morning," she blurted out.

"Oh, what a shame," Esme said softly, winding an arm around her shoulder.

"I'm a little worried that I may be barren," she said, and her voice shook.

"You are not barren," Gina said. "I was married for several months before I found myself in a delicate condition and"- she colored-"there was no lack of the necessary activity."

"The idea is absurd!" Esme said. "But I would suggest that you choose a more private setting for your next encounter with Rees."

"I live in anticipation," Helene said with a curl of her lip.

"I don't know why you're so preoccupied with the idea that Helene must reconcile with her husband," Gina said to Esme. "It's almost as if you wish Helene to return to her husband simply because you reconciled with Miles."

"Nonsense," Esme said tartly. "But Helene wants to have a child, and Rees is the obvious choice. If she finds herself in an interesting condition due to the efforts of some other man, who could say how Rees will react?"

"I don't even care," Helene said. "I would retire to the country and raise my baby."

"But I would miss you," Esme pointed out. "We would both miss you, and you would miss us. You would miss London."

"No, I wouldn't miss London," Helene said stubbornly. "I agree with Rees as far as that goes: the season is a dreadful waste of time. As long as I had both my pianos in the country, I would be completely happy."

"She's right," Gina said. "You were bored in the country, Esme. But the fact that you happily abandoned your Sewing Circle doesn't mean that Helene would feel the same. For one, I enjoy living on our estate."

"Be that as it may," Esme said stubbornly, "it's always better if a child's father is his father."

"Of course that's true," Gina admitted.

"And I'm the only one of us who has actually committed adultery," Esme said. "So I can tell you with some authority that it makes a person feel rather loathsome, after the fact."

"That may be true," Helene said, "but bedding Rees makes me feel just as loathsome, I'm sure."

Gina bit her lip. "You'll have to give us some details, Helene." And, when Helene said nothing, "You must, you absolutely must. Otherwise we'll never be able to decide whether you should return to Rees or look farther afield."

"Perhaps I should be the one to decide that!" Helene said tartly. But then she gave in. "Bedding simply didn't work for us," she said with a faint shrug. "I was disgusted, and he disliked the fact I am so thin. The pain didn't go away after the first time, the way it is supposed to. In fact, it only really started to fade after several months, and by then it was clear that our marriage was an utter disaster."

"Oh, poor you," Gina said, giving her a hug.

"It was very distressing at the time, naturally. But I have come to the conclusion that the bedding process is not for me, and I can't say that the fact causes me much grief."

"I'd be inclined to ascribe that to your husband's ineptitude," Esme said.

"I agree," Gina said, nodding.

Helene shrugged again. "It isn't worth discussion."

"Poor you," Gina repeated. "Well, I vote for the Earl of Mayne. Why should Helene be forced to petition her husband for a child? Rees is living with an opera singer, after all. I say that Rees deserves what he gets. And I also think that Helene should not be forced back into a situation that causes her pain and humiliation!"

"That's all very well," Esme said stubbornly, "but I still think that Rees, unpleasant though he is in bed-and out, for that matter-is the better option. I simply believe that Helene will feel a good deal more comfortable if her son actually is Earl Godwin, rather than being illegitimate. And if we think ahead, what of your son, Helene? How would he feel if he knew that he was really an illegitimate offspring of the Earl of Mayne, all the time he was carrying the title of Earl Godwin?"

"Perhaps I'll have a daughter," Helene pointed out.

"The fact is," Esme went on, "my little William has inherited the title of Lord Rawlings from Miles although he's really Sebastian's child. I don't feel right about that although I am persuaded that Miles would forgive me, under the circumstances. But it also means that Sebastian's eldest son won't inherit his title... it's all very complicated."

"I forgot that you were entangled in something of an inheritance mess yourself, Esme," Gina said.

"Luckily Simon Darby, who would have been Miles's heir, is so hopelessly rich that he says he doesn't give a pea about the inheritance or title. I actually think it's hardest on Sebastian."

"Miles was a decent, good man," Gina said. "And so is Sebastian. But Rees isn't. Oh, I know he's not a murderer or anything. But I don't think that he deserves very much consideration, given the way he has treated Helene. He threw her out of her house!"

"Let's change the subject, shall we?" Helene said, rather wearily. "The question is moot, for the moment anyway."

"Have I told you how much I adore your hair?" Gina asked. "Are you using lampblack to darken your eyelashes? Because I am an expert on the subject. The best product is resin. It's rather hard to find, but you can buy it in Haymarket."

"I have been using black frankincense," Helene said, perking up. "How does that compare to resin?"

There was a knock at the door. "An hour has passed, my lady," Harries announced. He was holding a salver strewn with cards. "Twenty-four persons have called and left their cards; one person just arrived. Shall I announce him?"

"Who is it?" Helene asked.

"The Earl of Mayne."

"Of course!" Gina said, clapping her hands.

When Harries had closed the door and gone to fetch their caller, Esme added quickly: "I do think that you should continue a flirtation with Mayne, for the moment anyway. Rees obviously responds to competition. Look at last night!"

"What about last night?" Helene said, wondering whether she should put on more lip color.

Gina answered her unspoken question by handing her a small pot of the color she had just put on her own lips. "Why are you beautifying yourself?" Helene said, taking the color. "You are married."

"I could say the same to you," Gina replied, grinning. "I would never even think of being unfaithful to Cam. But that doesn't mean that I have to look like a corpse in the presence of a man as delicious as Mayne."

"Thank goodness for that," Mayne himself said, strolling into the room. "I have a peculiar dislike of corpses in a lady's sitting room." He bowed elegantly. "Well, this is a true pleasure. Three of the most ravishing women in all London in one room!"

Helene couldn't help thinking that the earl had shown no sign of considering her ravishing a month ago. But it was hard not to appreciate his compliment. When he looked at her with those deep-set eyes, marked by straight black brows, Helene felt a thrill straight down her spine. He himself was, quite simply, ravishing.

"If you'll forgive me, ladies, I will play Prince Paris. Surely you three are Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite." He grinned down at them, and even Gina, who was starting to think that she'd left Max for rather longer than she wished to, felt a spark of pleasure. But then Mayne turned to Helene and gave her his madcap, suggestive grin. "As Paris, I award the golden apple to Aphrodite. Because she has been hiding her radiance for so long that it's burst forth with particular brilliance."

Helene raised an eyebrow, but Esme nipped in before her. "A tediously overwrought compliment," she said reprovingly. "Surely you can do better than that! Besides, I was labeled the Aphrodite when I debuted, and I would take it very amiss to find that I've been demoted to Hera."

"Every Aphrodite has her day," he said, twinkling at Esme. "If you ladies would allow me a private visit with Lady Godwin, I assure that I could wax far more eloquent."

"Well, I expect we shall have to give you free rein for your eloquence, Mayne," Esme said, rising.

He bowed and kissed the very tips of her fingers. "It's a pleasure to see you so radiant, Lady Bonnington."

Esme laughed.

"Good-bye, Helene," Gina said, pulling Esme toward the door. "No, don't worry, Mayne. You can kiss my hand next time." Giving him a conspiratorial smile, she closed the door behind them.

Mayne turned around and looked down at Lady Godwin. She was faintly pink, and seemed to be examining her skirts with great curiosity. He sat down next to her on the couch, stretching out his legs before him. "I am enchanted to see you so unscathed by last evening's debacle," he said.

Helene could feel herself blushing so hard that her ears were going red.

If only she didn't blush so much! "My husband and I are-are friends, Lord Mayne. Truly, there is little disagreement between us."

"That sounds remarkably refreshing," Mayne said, picking up one of her hands and running his thumb delicately down each finger. His grin really was irresistible. Helene smiled at him a little shyly. She wasn't used to the heady pleasures of flirtation.

"Won't you call me Garret?" he said softly. "You did so last night."

Helene just knew that she looked unattractively pink in the face. "I apologize for leaving the ball after I informed you that we would meet directly."

He turned her hand over and began brushing kisses onto the rounded part of each finger. "The occasion lost all interest after you left." He spread her hand against his. "How slender your fingers are, compared to mine. Musician's hands."

"Yes," Helene said rather uncertainly. Her heart was thumping quickly.

Suddenly his fingers curled in between hers. "May I kiss you?"

Helene hesitated. He took that for a yes, and she caught one last glimpse of his dark eyes before his head bent and he brushed a kiss on her lips.