LITMIR.BIZ

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deluded woman.

      ‘I asked Olivia if she thought her brother-in-law would be attending the Finchleys’ masquerade,’ continued Lizzy, ‘but she informed me she isn’t privy to Lord Andrew’s schedule and walked off rather abruptly. That was rather rude, was it not?’

      ‘Olivia and Winterbourne barely speak to one another. What would make you believe she would know what his brother does? Lord Andrew has made no advance towards you in ten years. Do you truly believe the man is attracted to you in any way? He barely acknowledges you.’

      Lizzy huffed and turned away. ‘Have you chosen a costume for the Finchleys’ masquerade?’

      This was Lizzy’s latest way of reminding Helena that she was the one married to a duke. She knew Helena had no association with the Finchleys.

      She could go to the devil!

      ‘No, I’m afraid I’ve not been invited.’

      Lizzy’s eyes grew wide with false innocence and she blinked. ‘Oh, forgive me. I was certain you would have been. The Marchioness is usually so generous with her invitations. The Americans are even invited. I wouldn’t have broached the subject if I’d thought an invitation had not been extended to you. That would have been most unkind of me.’

      ‘And you are all that is good and kind,’ Helena replied in an overly sweet manner.

      ‘My, you are in a foul mood today. If you’d had a desire to attend all the most sought-after pleasures of the Season perhaps you should have married a man who had a better standing than the one you did.’

      ‘It wasn’t as if I had a choice.’

      ‘Well, you should have selected a more discreet place for your romp with Wentworth, then.’

      ‘How was I to know that that area of his father’s estate had a riding path not far away? I thought he would have had more sense.’

      ‘I really did believe when we came out together you were going to be the one who made the best match. You were the most sought-after girl that Season. Well, there is no going back. You should try to improve your station now, at least.’

      As if she hadn’t been trying for the last five years!

      She had done everything possible to marry a marquess or a duke. And all her efforts had exploded in her face.

      Lord Blackwood had even had the nerve to laugh at her when she’d reminded him that he’d promised to wed her if she helped him remove Lady Caroline Shaw from his son’s life. She’d never understood why he had wanted to separate her from Lord Hartwick, but if Helena had gained the title of marchioness and the wealth she deserved she really wouldn’t have cared. And now Lyonsdale had left her. She was running out of available wealthy men with prominent titles.

      Miss Vandenberg strolled past them, deep in conversation with her friend. As they entered the maze Helena wondered for the hundredth time what it was about her that Lyonsdale found attractive.

      ‘I assume there is no opportunity to reconcile with Lyonsdale now that he is pursuing the American?’

      Helena snapped her head towards Lizzy. ‘What are you talking about? That caricature was merely a political satire. Everyone has heard how involved he has become in the details of the relations between our two countries. There is nothing between them.’

      ‘That is not what Blackwood said when I spoke with him at Carlton House last night.’

      If Lizzy mentioned dining at Carlton House one more time, Helena would be shoving her down a flight of stairs the next time the opportunity presented itself.

      ‘And what did he say?’

      Lizzy’s mouth curved into a satisfied smile. ‘He said he found it vastly entertaining that after spending time in your bed Lyonsdale preferred an American. He said that if there was any truth to the notion that Lyonsdale would make her his duchess, then every member of the ton would finally say what he has always known to be true...that, as pretty as you are, you do not have the character of a real lady.’

      Helena’s grip strangled her parasol handle. Lord Blackwood should die a slow and painful death!

      She would not be made into a mockery by Lyonsdale’s perverse interest in Vandenberg’s daughter. She would rather die than be the subject of the derision of the ton. Who would want her then? As it was, she was much older than the girls most men sought for a bride. And Wentworth had left her with no children. To any titled gentleman needing an heir that made her a questionable choice.

      She’d thought she had seduced Lyonsdale sufficiently that he would be willing to take the risk. She had been wrong.

      Lyonsdale couldn’t possibly choose an American over her. It would mean disaster for her marriage prospects. She knew Boreham valued his opinion more than any man should. If he thought Lyonsdale preferred an American over her, he never would consider her a suitable choice for his marchioness. She was running out of money. If she didn’t marry soon, she didn’t know what she would do. She couldn’t appeal to her brother for help. The insolent nob would rather see her live in the streets than offer her assistance.

      As fate would have it, at that very moment Lyonsdale appeared from the path that ran along the hedgerow and strolled into the maze with Hartwick. The very same maze Miss Vandenberg had entered a short time ago. Helena clenched her jaw to prevent herself from screaming. It couldn’t possibly be true. He couldn’t have left her for an American!

      ‘Was that Lyonsdale who just walked into the maze? What an odd coincidence. I thought I saw Miss Vandenberg enter it earlier,’ Lizzy said with a bemused expression.

      It was taking all Helena’s effort not to beat Lizzy with her parasol. ‘I hadn’t noticed.’

      This was not to be her fate. She would not be taken to debtors’ prison. She would find a way to end this association between Lyonsdale and the American for good—before it was too late.

       Chapter Twenty-Two

      As Katrina and Sarah strolled further into the maze the sound of rhythmic splashing grew louder. After making yet another right turn, they were rewarded with the sight of a marble fountain situated in the middle of a large gravel-covered square. The statue at the centre of the fountain was of a Greek or Roman woman, with water pouring from the urn in her hand and splashing into the pool below her. If Katrina had saved all the tears she’d cried over Julian they would have filled numerous urns.

      She took off one of her white silk gloves embroidered with forget-me-nots and skimmed her fingers through the cold water in the fountain’s base. ‘It is lovely here.’

      ‘I told you we would reach the centre. Now let’s find a way out.’ Sarah marched across the clearing towards another break in the hedgerow.

      Katrina watched the water droplets slide from her fingers. ‘There is no reason to leave. We are fortunate no one else is here. Can we not simply enjoy the solitude for a bit longer?’

      Sarah took her time walking over to her, and sat next to Katrina on the rim of the fountain. ‘You cannot hide here forever.’

      ‘I have no intention of remaining here for the rest of the day. Just a few more minutes. Please?’

      The noise of the garden party seemed far removed from where they were. Katrina closed her eyes and concentrated on the sound of the water splashing and the birds chirping. For a few minutes, at least, she could pretend she was far away, sitting on a rock alongside the babbling brook that meandered through her home in Tarrytown.

      Only now she would be returning to a very different home. Her great-aunt would no longer be there. Her home would never be the same.

      She took a deep, steadying breath. Miraculously, Sarah appeared content with the silence between them as well.

      Then the sound of crunching gravel ruined

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