Aunt Sarah folded her hands on her lap and raised an eyebrow. “If you believe we should make an exception, Watson, then that is a solid enough reason for me. Does our caller have a card?”
“No, your ladyship. I understand this call was an impromptu decision. The gentleman has given his name as Mr. Marcellus.” Watson’s lips twitched. It was the closest the longtime butler would come to smiling.
“Please show him in, and please direct the kitchen to send up a pot of tea and some biscuits.” Aunt Sarah closed her desk and stood.
Helen’s hands shook. She hid them behind her back as their gentleman caller entered the room. Her breath hitched. Mr. Marcellus was even more handsome than she remembered, clad in a suit of light blue with gold trim and highly polished knee-high boots. In this lighting, his brown hair was more of a chocolate color than an ash brown. At his full height, he stood six feet tall, dwarfing her five-foot-three frame.
Removing his hat and gloves, he bowed.
“Mr. Marcellus?.?.?.” Her aunt hesitated “It is an honor to have you in my home. I am Lady Greenly. Please allow me to introduce you to my goddaughter, Miss Helen Davenport.” Helen and her aunt curtsied.
A footman entered the room with a tea service and placed it upon the table between the sofa and the window overlooking the street.
Mr. Marcellus ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you for granting me an audience today, Lady Greenly. You present a lovely home.”
“On behalf of my family and my staff, you must allow me to express the utmost gratitude for the service you rendered to my goddaughter and footman. We will forever be indebted to you.”
Aunt Sarah gestured for them to sit.
“I was only doing what any worthy gentleman would do.” He crossed his long legs and drummed his fingers against the arms of the chaise. “Miss Davenport, I am thrilled to see you well. Are you fully recovered?”
Helen placed her hands on her lap and clasped them tightly together. “As you can see, Mr. Marcellus, I am indeed restored to full health.”
Her body grew warm. Just a few days ago, she hadn’t any difficulty in conversing with their guest, and now, Helen’s mind drew a blank. What else should she say to him?
Aunt Sarah inclined her head towards the tea. Helen stood and set to work at preparing three cups, grateful for the distraction.
“And Master John? How is he faring?”
“John is recovering well. Now that the worst of the pain has passed, his appetite has returned with a vengeance.” Aunt Sarah chuckled.
“Excellent.” Mr. Marcellus sat up straighter.
“Our John will be disappointed that he has missed your visit. If you would be so inclined, would you consider looking in on him before you depart?” her aunt asked.
Mr. Marcellus nodded. “Indeed, I shall.”
Helen placed two sugars into a cup for her aunt. Steam billowed above the teapot, creating swirling patterns in the air around them. This blend’s scent was spicy, with hints of lemon.
“Mr. Marcellus, how do you take your tea?” she asked.
“Straight, if you would be so kind.”
Wordlessly, she poured a cup and placed a ginger biscuit on the saucer. As she passed the cup to Mr. Marcellus, their gazes met. The deep pools of aquamarine were a lighter shade than the morning of the accident, nearly stormlike and full of uncertainty.
“I thank you.” With shaky hands, he took a sip of the tea. “Miss Davenport, may I ask, the copy ofThe Iliadon the chaise sofa?.?.?. does that belong to you? It is not a book which ladies often choose to read.”
Helen’s pulse began to race. How should she answer such the question? Would Mr. Marcellus be the type of man who immediately dismissed her for her unorthodox education?
I only have one chance to form a favorable impression.
Her gaze traveled to her aunt for direction. Closing her eyes, Aunt Sarah took hold of her cup of tea and subtly nodded.
“Yes, Mr. Marcellus, the book was a gift from my father for my tenth name day. I have been?.?.?.” She hesitated “Inspired by recent events to revisit the story of Helen of Troy, Paris, Menelaus, and Agamemnon.”
Mr. Marcellus appraised her. “You cannot forget the mighty Achilles.”
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. “My mistake.”