A Lady's Undoing. Lorelai Ryan
she hurried along, the cool night air faded the colour of her cheeks. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t let Arthur get under her skin again, that she’d ignore his bright blue, soul-penetrating eyes and his strong, angular jaw. She’d many a time wondered what it would be like to kiss that very mouth that taunted her so often but she realised how tainted his lips would be by the many lips of others. She’d pushed him out of her thoughts yet here he was, perfect timing as always, trying to force his way back in.
Well tonight her new life would begin and it was imperative that it went to plan. She had no time for silly neighbourly flirtations. Hopefully he’d take the hint and leave her alone.
Helena checked over her shoulder as she skulked along in the shadows of Savile Row. She stopped outside Henderson’s, the most lavish tailors in London, which she had been assigned to target. The suffragettes wanted to make the politicians suffer and, as a popular dresser of London democrats, Henderson’s was an obvious target. Helena only wished she and her family weren’t such good acquaintances with the Hendersons but now was not the time for trivial loyalty. The Hendersons were rich enough, Helena consoled herself, and it would be little more than a minor inconvenience for them.
She appreciated the shop’s anonymity in the darkness. It looked rather plain and ordinary and could have been any other shop. Her guilt momentarily assuaged, she knew it was now or never.
The weight that was heavy on Helena’s heart also tugged on her pocket. She reached her fingers into the pocket, clasped them tightly around the brick and pulled it out. The brick was wrapped in the front page of a newspaper that had been printed days earlier. The headline, ‘The Suffragettes will stop at nothing,’ was still visible. Her hand shook and for a moment she thought she couldn’t do it. It was breaking the law. Her throat tightened as she remembered the maddening attitude of the government towards women, and worse, of her father’s treatment of her mother. After thirty long years Helena’s mother had come to accept and believe Lord Elstob’s very low opinion of her and every slap sent her further into the maelstrom of her depression. A furious fire shot through Helena. Some things went above the law, she decided, aware that she was on shaky moral ground. She raised the brick to her lips and left a lingering kiss on the dirty paper, then held the brick steady above her head.
***
He had never seen a woman in men’s trousers before. There was something exciting about it and how they hugged her curves.
Arthur Crawley had followed his beautiful neighbour as she’d stolen across London in her curious disguise. Her father had long ago forbidden Arthur to ever pursue Helena which had only made him crave her more, although acting on it would be more than his life was worth. Lately something about her had changed and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. When he’d realised a few weeks earlier what she was getting involved with, he’d promised himself that if it all went wrong he would be there for her. He would protect the girl that made his heart race no matter what the cost to him. If Lord Elstob knew she was involved in this, how did he put it, nonsense? Then her life would hardly be worth living.
The problem was she never listened to reason. She was one stubborn girl, which just made her all the more interesting.
This time her tenacity was going to get her into big trouble. She was involved in something she didn’t understand the complexity of and now she was on the verge of breaking the law. He knew he shouldn’t interfere but he couldn’t see enchanting Helena sent to prison either.
Arthur watched intrigued as she twisted her waist-length golden hair into a tight knot and buried it under a flat cap. She pulled the collar of her coat around the naked nape of her neck and he tugged at his own. Seeing a woman, a Lady, dressed in that shocking outfit was stirring feelings in him he hadn’t expected. Her disguise was good but not if you were in on her secret. Her lips were too full and red, her nose too dainty and her walk too mesmerising. Even in her hefty coat he could imagine the curves that hid below it. He’d imagined them often enough for sure but she’d made it perfectly clear what she thought of him on many occasions. She must be the only woman he’d met who wasn’t falling over at his feet since his rise up the political ladder. He kept reminding himself that that was in fact a good thing. A woman would only complicate things for him.
He watched from the shadows as Helena held a brick above her head and then released it with the force of a cricket bowler.
Smash!
The glass rained in and out of the shop. Helena cowered into the hugeness of her men’s clothes. Lights from the buildings nearby flashed on and foggy faces pressed up against windows.
Why was she still just standing there? Arthur’s brain was racing.
He heard footsteps stampeding down the streets from somewhere in the darkness. Whistles were blowing and bells ringing and he guessed his heart was going along about the same speed. The police!
Run, Helena run, he urged silently but she just stood staring at the shop, at the shattered glass, her hands in her pockets.
He’d really hoped he wouldn’t have to get drawn into this for the sake of his career, but he had to help her. It was Helena, for goodness’ sake, the young, spirited beauty who always reminded him of his strong, independent mother.
He only had one plan. He dashed across the road in the shadows of the buildings and grabbed Helena by the arm, dragging her into the nearest back lane. She needed to get away from the main street. He was sure he could find a path home through the dark, narrow lanes and return her home a free woman.
‘You again, Arthur!’ She tugged her arm from his grasp. ‘What are you doing here now?’
‘Saving you from prison. Do you have a problem with that?’
The sense of danger really suited Helena, not that he would tell her so. The blush from the thrill was an exciting change to her milky complexion and her eyes were wide and sharp with a silver twist as she glanced up and down the alley and then stared at him.
‘Fine,’ she agreed.
‘You need to take this disguise off,’ he said, she’d never make it home unnoticed in that outfit now.
‘No.’
‘This is no time to be stubborn Helena.’ The independence he admired most was going to get her in a lot of trouble, and him too.
‘Fine, go ahead,’ she taunted, her hands on her hips.
Arthur rapidly unfastened the buttons and then pulled open the heavy coat. He gasped at the fleshy tones that shimmered through the lace nightwear. He hadn’t expected to see a veil of fabric and nothing more skimming her breasts. As if Helena could see her near-naked reflection in his eyes she hauled her coat closed and folded her arms.
‘You see? I can’t exactly walk home in my undergarments, can I?’ She straightened her cap and marched off down the cobbled back lane.
Arthur cursed under his breath. He was done with Lady Helena. She always threw his help back in his face, so she could learn the hard way in prison for all he cared.
With the vision of sheer nightwear shimmering through his head, he tensed his fists by his side and stormed off in the opposite direction. Not caring was going to be difficult.
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