Chapter 7

'You are coming to the picnic this afternoon,' Lady Emley asked Helen after breakfast the next morning.

'It depends on Lady Helford's plans for the afternoon,' Helen replied, smiling at the young woman. Lady Emley had just entered the dining-room and had sat next to Helen.

'I am afraid Mrs Wakefield will be accompanying me this afternoon to visit the church. I so dislike picnics. Eating outside is messy and only ruins one's clothes.' Lady Helford said in her commanding voice that rang out across the dining-room.

'Oh! But, Lady Helford,' Lady Emley said sweetly, looking directly at the older woman, 'surely you can spare Mrs Wakefield for a couple of hours. I was so looking forward to making her acquaintance. Tom has told me so much about her.'

Lady Emley may have looked like a quiet young woman who would be easily manipulated by the likes of Lady Helford. However, there was a steely quality in her voice that signalled her determination.

Helen sensed Lady Helford's reservations. Lady Helford did not just want her around if she happened to require any assistance, she wanted to know that Helen was there continually by her side at her beck and call. Helen had slipped her leash the previous afternoon, and Lady Helford had made it very clear to her, in no uncertain terms, that it was not to be repeated. Lady Helford had just opened her mouth, and Helen knew that what would follow would be a polite but firm refusal. But before Lady Helford could deliver her speech, Lady Emley pre-empted her.

'Oh! But I insist,' she said, still smiling sweetly at Lady Helford. 'Lord Emley expressly asked me to invite Mrs Wakefield. I do not think that you would want his lordship to be disappointed.'

'Well,' Lady Helford said in a bluster, 'this is highly irregular.'

Lady Emley smiled broadly. 'That is settled,' she said brightly, ignoring Lady Helford's protestations, 'Mrs Wakefield will join us this afternoon at the lake.'

Lady Helford looked dazed and a little confused at the direction the conversation had taken. 'I...I...' Lady Helford said, looking very flustered.

'Of course,' Lady Emley said, interrupting Lady Helford once more. 'I will take excellent care of her and return her to you before dinner.'

Lady Helford had been manoeuvred into a corner and could not refuse the young women's request without seeming rude and churlish in front of the other guests who were looking at them with interest. Lady Helford then glared at Helen; a warning look in her eyes. Helen knew that her employer wanted her to refuse the invitation and accompany her instead.

Under normal circumstances, Helen would have followed Lady Helford's direction. The last thing she wanted to do was to expose herself to an awkward social situation. However, Helen was fed up of Lady Helford and her imperious attitude towards her. To spend the afternoon away from her relentless complaining was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Helen turned away from Lady Helford and addressed Lady Emley. 'It would be a pleasure, my lady, to join you this afternoon.'

In her room after luncheon, Helen opened the small wardrobe that contained her meagre collection of clothes she had bought to the house-party. There were the two dull, light grey wool dresses that she wore during the day when she was acting as Lady Helford's companion and a plain dove grey silk dress that she wore in the evening. They were all pretty drab, and their sole purpose was to signal to the people around her, that she was not one of the invited guests.

The fourth dress, in her limited collection, was different. She had had it made in Spain many years ago when she was still married to Harry. Even though it was not as fashionable as it had been, it was still beautiful. The waistline may have been a little lower than the highly fashionably waistlines that had been the rage since the battle of Waterloo. However, the delicately printed pattern of tiny blue forget-me-not flowers on the fine sprig muslin still looked lovely. She also pulled out of the wardrobe the matching blue pelisse she had bought with the dress. The blue linen perfectly matched the blue of the tiny flowers printed on the material. Even though the pelisse was a little worn at the elbows and the blue flowers of the dress were starting to fade, she still loved the outfit.

She took it out of the wardrobe and shook out the creases. Why should she not wear it? This afternoon, she was not going to be the companion of Lady Helford, she was just going to be another guest.

After she had dressed, there was a timid knock on the door. 'Come in,' Helen said as she reached for her straw bonnet.

Lady Emley opened the door and walked into the bedchamber with a big smile on her face. 'Mrs Wakefield,' she said brightly, 'you look lovely. I almost didn't recognise you. The blue of your pelisse suits you. I was afraid that you only had those dull grey dresses and it certainly is not a day to wear grey. It is gloriously sunny outside and promises to be a lovely afternoon.'

'Thank you, my Lady,' Helen replied, feeling a little embarrassed, 'I do not get a chance to wear it very often.'

Lady Emley examined the bonnet carefully and then frowned. 'It is a shame the colour of the ribbon that trims your delightful bonnet is brown. Wait here,' she commanded, 'I think I may have something that will help.'

A few minutes later, Lady Emley returned with her maid, Phyllis, and a length of blue ribbon that perfectly matched Helen's pelisse and the delicate flowers of her muslin gown. 'Perfect,' Lady Emley said, as she held up the ribbon against Helen's outfit. 'If you give your bonnet to Phyllis, she will have it ready in a trice. She is a marvel, and I do not know what I would do without her.'

Helen watched Phyllis' deft fingers replace the ribbon on her bonnet. Phyllis then went over to Helen and arranged the bonnet on Helen's head. She stopped in front of her and looked at her with a critical eye. 'If you don't mind me saying, ma'am,' she began confidently, 'But you would suit a softer hairstyle. The bonnet would look so much more fetching with a few tendrils of loose hair framing your face.'

'Oh!' Lady Emley said with excitement, 'Phyl is right. Why don't you get her to rearrange your hair? She is magnificent. I don't know how, but she managed to tame my unruly locks.'

Helen surrendered herself to Phyllis' skilful administrations. It felt good to feel someone else brush her hair and then, with her nimble fingers, skillfully arrange it into a more fashionable style. As she worked, Phyllis kept both ladies amused with scandalous gossip regarding the servants, including interesting tidbits of information about Lady Helford's maid, Marie, and one of the footmen.

When Phyllis had finished, and Helen had looked at her reflection in the mirror, she hardly recognised herself. The years had fallen away, and she was staring at the image of the girl she had almost forgotten. There was still a trace in her face of the young woman she had been before her unhappy marriage to Harry had hardened her heart.

'You look lovely,' Lady Emley had said, clapping her hands together in excitement. 'Your hair is a beautiful chestnut brown. I suppose, when the sun catches it, it picks out the red highlights. Come!' Lady Emley then commanded, 'we should go down and meet the others.'

Instead of joining the other ladies, in the open-top barouches that were waiting for them at the front of the Hall, Lady Emley suggested that they should walk down together. 'It is less than a mile to the lake,' Lady Emley had told her as they stood outside the Hall. 'It is such a lovely day, and the walk will no doubt do us good.'

Helen had been relieved when she realised that she would not have to join the other ladies in the barouche. When she had walked down the sweeping staircase to the entrance hall below, there had been an awkward silence, especially with the younger ladies. Helen could not help but notice the look of incredulity on their faces as she came towards them, and she had felt a pang of regret that she had dressed in her best blue muslin dress. If she had worn her usual drab, light wool dress, no one would have noticed her. She would have just blended into the background as she had done on numerous occasions.

'Don't worry about them,' Lady Emley had said, sensing Helen's discomfort as they descended the staircase, 'they are just jealous.'

Helen looked down at Lady Emley and raised her eyebrows. Lady Emley was a petite woman, and the top of her head barely reached Helen's shoulder. 'Why would they be jealous of me?' she whispered back.

'Oh, my dear,' Lady Emley had said, suppressing a smile, 'you put them all, including me, into the shade.'

Helen was not too sure what Lady Emley had meant. She knew that she looked different today, but how could she, a mature woman of seven and twenty, compete with the young ladies straight from the schoolroom. They had youth, beauty and wealth on their side; she had nothing to recommend her.

As they walked down the drive, Lady Emley hooked her arm through Helen's. 'Now,' she said earnestly, looking up at Helen as they ambled along. 'You must dispense with this my lady nonsense. My name is Alice. And, in return, if you agree, of course, I will call you Helen.'

It had been a long time since Helen had had a friend, and she was touched by Lady Emley's offer. She felt a tear prick the corner of her eye, but she blinked it back. 'I would like that very much, Alice,' she said tentatively.

'Good,' Alice said emphatically, 'I think we will get on famously.'

'You knew Tom in the Peninsula,' Alice said as they walked towards the lake arm in arm. 'I wish I had known him then. He must have looked so handsome in his regimentals.'

'Yes,' Helen said, 'I knew him when he was a captain, and he was attached to my husband's regiment.' She looked at Alice and smiled conspiratorially. 'And yes,' she said, leaning her head a little closer to hers and keeping her voice low, 'he was very handsome in his regimentals.'

'Tom rarely talks about his time in the army,' Alice said, with a touch of sadness in her voice. 'It is a period of his life, he would like to forget, but I know he will never be able to entirely shake off the memories.'

Helen nodded. 'It is difficult to forget what happened,' she continued, 'the memories are never too far away. When one closes one's eyes, one always fears that an unwelcome memory will surface. It is difficult to control these unwelcome images when they start to invade the darkest recesses of your mind. They feel so real. It is like you have been transported to the moment they occurred, and the horror of them overtakes your rational mind.'

As they continued to walk in silence, Helen knew that Alice was processing, in her own mind, everything Helen had told her. It was difficult to explain to the young woman how the horror of the war could affect one's conscience. It was something that Helen could not explain even to herself. Her intellect told her that she was no longer surrounded by death and destruction, but that did not stop her mind from reliving them.

However, there was something about today that was different. The memories that usually felt so real somehow felt distant. It was like they had happened to a completely different person. It was strange; she felt like she was a heroine in a novel she had read a long time ago. However, yesterday, when she had been standing on the edge of the cliff, they had felt so real.

As they continued to walk, Helen listened to the cheerful song of the birds and the soft rustle of the leaves as the gentle breeze caressed them. The rhythm of their feet as they crunched along the pebble path was almost hypnotic, and Helen's mind began to wander. The tranquillity of their surroundings was at odds with the turbulent memories of the war. She tilted her head to feel the warmth of the sun on her face, and the past felt a thousand miles away. Helen knew how Tom felt. Talking about the past only seemed to exacerbate the painful memories it evoked, and somehow made them feel more real. However, Helen also knew that hiding them away from the rest of the world only made them fester like an open wound; a wound that was in danger of never healing.

'Tom was a good officer,' Helen eventually said, sensing that Alice wanted to talk about her husband's past. 'He was respected by the men under his command.'

'He told me you saved his life,' Alice said softly, 'I am very grateful to you, and I will never be able to repay you for what you have done.'

'Please,' Helen said, feeling a little embarrassed, 'anyone would have done the same.' Helen did not know how much Tom had told Alice about that fateful day in July 1812, when he had been injured at Salamanca. She had always felt that she had done her duty. Anyone in her position would have done the same.

'I do not know many ladies who would scour a battlefield looking for the living among the dead. Tom told me how dangerous it could be in the aftermath of a battle. He said that every opportunist for miles comes out to pick through the spoils,' Alice said, looking at Helen seriously.

Helen did not know what to say. She knew that any glib reply, about it being nothing, would not be appropriate. Alice, even though in public, she put on a gregarious and sometimes carefree appearance, was obviously a very thoughtful individual and wanted to do her best to understand how her husband felt.

'I just wanted you to know that I am very grateful for everything you did that day,' Alice eventually said, squeezing Helen's arm. 'Without you, I would never have met my Tom.'

Before Helen had had a chance to reply, much to her relief, Alice changed the subject. She began to tell Helen the story about how she had met Tom. They had met in London the previous season when Alice was just eighteen years old. The knowledge that Alice was nine years her junior made Helen feel even older.

Alice had been correct when she told Helen that her story resembled a romantic gothic novel similar to those made famous by Mrs Radcliffe. Everything had been there. An overbearing father, who had wanted her to marry a man old enough to be her grandfather. And, of course, there was Tom, the handsome hero, who had come to her rescue at her hour of need.

'Helen, may I tell you something I have never told anyone else,' she said with a theatrical whisper.

Helen smiled and nodded.

'Tom did not love me when we got married. It is hardly surprising, he hardly knew me, and he only married me out of pity.' Alice stopped and sighed. 'I, on the other hand, had fallen head over heels in love with him the very first time I saw him across a crowded ballroom at my first ball.'

'It was a risk marrying Tom,' she continued, 'he could easily break my heart. And, I know it hasn't been easy for him to adjust his life to accommodate me. But I think he has grown to care for me over the past few months. I just wish he would talk to me about his feelings for me,' Alice said wistfully.

'He might do one day.' Helen said, feeling a little sad for Alice. Helen knew that men like Tom rarely talked about their feelings, but that did not mean they did not have them. It was evident to anyone who looked at the couple that he was in love with his wife. He just could not put how he felt into words.

'I just wish he would talk to me,' Alice said wistfully, 'I am a good listener, and I may be able to help him.'

'He will, one day,' Helen said, 'and you will be there ready to comfort him. He is very fortunate to have you.

'And Helen,' Alice said, after a protracted silence, 'who do you have to comfort you?'

Helen felt the hot prickle of tears in the corner of her eyes. Who did she have to tell all her fears? She had no family and very few friends, and she rarely allowed herself the indulgence of feeling lonely. She had constructed a thick wall around her heart that would stop those unwarranted emotions from bothering her. Yesterday, the wall had come under attack when she had made love to Ralph. She had tried to repair the breach by treating the affair with dispassionate disdain. But Helen could not do the same to Alice. She was a young, vibrant woman with a heart of gold, and Helen knew that she had made a genuine offer when she had offered her friendship. She decided that Alice deserved the truth.

'No one,' Helen said, as one of the tears that she was trying so desperately to hold back, ran down her cheek.

'You have me now,' Alice said, squeezing her arm, 'if you ever need to talk, I will be here for you.'