The Baron and the Bluestocking by G. G. Vandagriff Page B

she closed her eyes and inhaled the savory scents of Mrs. Blakeley’s herb garden. She would have her own home. A mansion such as this. A piano. A library. And no worries about money.
    Then into her mind sailed a vision of Baron Shrewsbury, and the spark he had ignited inside her burned again, spreading warmth in her breast. She had never felt such a thing before. For a moment, the vision of Samuel and the life they would share fled. Hélène allowed herself to imagine those powerful arms around her, pulling her into an embrace, his lips on hers, kissing her with an extension of the passion that had ignited their conversation. For moments, she dwelt in an imagined future that had nothing to do with money or mansions, but with all that she imagined of love.
    What a silly widgeon you are! The man does not even like you! Marriage with him is quite out of the question.
    She concentrated once again on Samuel and the life they would lead, almost succeeding in putting the baron firmly out of her mind. Hélène rose and went in. Yes, a marriage to Samuel would be prudent for many reasons, not the least of which was the possibility to forward her political agenda. Marrying for love was not an option she had.
    *~*~*
    Hélène’s sisters were very excited to discuss the Duke’s visit when she called upon them the next day.
    “Only think, Ellie,” said Jacquie. “He took us straight to a Mrs. Pierce, a dear friend of Mrs. Blakeley whose daughters have all married. She is that happy to have us with her.”
    “What is Mrs. Pierce like?” Hélène asked doubtfully.
    “Very unpretentious,” said Monique. “Her husband is in business with Mr. Blakeley, however, and she has a very comfortable home. She does not come out of the top drawer, socially, of course, but she is very kind.”
    Anne-Marie added, “Jacquie is to have her own room. Monique and I will share. And our room is perfectly lovely! The walls are lilac striped with little bunches of flowers and a matching counterpane.”
    Hélène could not believe how their circumstances were to change. Hoping that Mrs. Pierce was kind, and not simply putting on an act for the Duke, she said, “And when are you to move in there?”
    “This very day! Two footmen are coming for us at any moment. We are to have our tea there!” Anne-Marie said.
    “Well, I hope that you may not be idle,” Hélène said, half-heartedly. What was the need for them to continue to prepare themselves for servitude if she were to marry Samuel?
    Jacqueline assured her, “We should be frightfully bored if we discontinued our studies. But the duke is giving us some pin money, so we shall commence straightaway to fashion some new gowns!”
    “That is good, then,” Hélène said. “I am exceedingly happy for you.” She gathered them to her all at once and gave in to a profound sense of relief. “Oh, my dears, what a wonderful change in your fortunes is this!”

{ 7 }
     
    SHREWSBURY NEXT MET Lady Virginia at a Venetian breakfast held in the garden of Shearings, the Ruisdell town residence. She was a pretty picture, carrying her lime green parasol to match the lime green and ivory striped muslin she wore. The day was fine with blue skies and a touch of autumn crispness in the air. The duchess’s garden was noted for its roses, which were flaunting their last display of the year.
    Keeping Frank’s words in mind, Shewsbury resolutely banished all his expectations and vowed to accept Lady Virginia for herself, not comparing her to a list of virtues he found necessary. Sitting with her among the roses, he asked, “What particular things do you find enjoyable, Lady Virginia?”
    “You will laugh at me!” She twirled her parasol.
    “Do not tell me that Lady Susannah has managed to convert you to the joys of cataloguing her beetle collection!”
    “I beg your pardon? Lady whom?”
    “Have you not made the acquaintance of our favorite eccentric? She was present at my mother’s at home.”
    “Oh! The lady