Page 103 of A Lady’s Guide to Mystery and Mischief

Farah nodded at her cousin’s carriage, catching sight of Kalila’s dark hair poking out of the window. “You’ll be safe with them.”

“I know I will.” Helena took Farah’s hand in hers. “It’s strange—I know I have to go, but I cannot help but hesitate.”

“Whatever for?”

In the light of the lamps, Farah saw a tear slip down Helena’s pretty face. “I don’t want to leave you.”

Farah gathered her into a hug, the familiar smell of jasmine reaching her nose. “And I don’t want to leave you. But I insist on seeing you happy, Helena. And if this is the only way—”

“It is the only way,” Helena sniffled. “We can thank Andrew for that.” She lifted her head off Farah’s shoulder to glance at Grey. “When will you tell him?”

“As soon as we return to London.”

“It makes me feel better,” Helena murmured, “knowing he’ll be there to care for you. I really do think you’ve found the real thing, Farah. Watching you together earlier in the night—it was completely foreign to me, which can only mean it’s good.”

“You deserve all that’s good, too,” Farah told her, voice breaking. “Whatever form that takes for you.”

“Don’t you cry, too.”

“You started it.” Farah wiped her tears away from her cheeks with a chuckle. “I cannot wait to hear of your exploits in France.”

Helena winked. “I’ll have plenty to share, I assure you.”

They stood in silence for a moment, Farah trying to memorize her friend’s face. Trying to will herself to always remember Helena’s clever blue eyes, her elegant mane of dark hair, her lovely, softly hooked nose.

“Write me the minute Mr. Montgomery declares his love for you,” Helena said with a watery grin. “I want to hear all about it.”

“And you write me the minute you set foot in France.”

Helena gave a firm nod. “You have my word.”

“Oh! Before I forget.” Farah pulled a small pouch out of her cloak pocket. “I made you a few ointments. The glass vial is my first attempt at a perfume, so forgive me if it’s a bit shoddy.”

At this, Helena began to cry again. “What am I meant to do without you, Farah?”

“You’ll find far better in the way of beauty products in France, I can tell you that much,” Farah teased, her own tears threatening a swift return.

“Ridiculous,” Helena said with a fond shake of her head. “I—”

“We’d best be off,” Kalila said, coming up from behind Helena.

Helena dipped her head in acknowledgment, pulling Farah into one last hug. “You’ve saved my life. For that, I will always be in your debt.”

“Don’t—”

“I mean it.” She gripped Farah by the shoulders to look straight into her eyes. “Promise me you’ll end this summer by doing something for yourself.”

“This entire summer was centered on doing something for myself,” Farah said dryly.

“Yes, but you gave it all up.”

“I suppose,” Farah allowed, unable to conceal her surprise. “I didn’t have much of a choice though, did I?”

“There’s always a choice to be made,” Helena said.

Perhaps her friend was right. She could have made hundreds of choices this summer—she could have chosen to leave Grey after his first dismissal, could have returned to Painswick with the intention of waiting for Francis. She could have chosen to ignore all that she’d learned about him, Grey’s feelings be damned. She could have kept herself out of Helena’s misery—could have, could have, could have.

“You must go,” Farah whispered. “And if you ever decide to come back, I—”