Page 92 of A Lady’s Guide to Mystery and Mischief

“But Helena,” Farah interrupted, “why? Are you in some kind of financial distress?”

“We aren’t,” Helena said. “But that’s just the problem. The money isn’t mine. And I—I needed it. I still need it.”

For a moment, all Farah could do was study Helena’s tear-streaked face. The sadness etched on her refined countenance, the hopelessness in her eyes—all of it pointed to one obvious truth.

“To get away?” Farah whispered.

Again, Helena nodded.

“Is that why you tried coming to Painswick?”

“Where did you hear that?” Helena asked with a jerk. “I thought—”

“Your husband wrote me,” Farah explained. “I’m surprised he didn’t bring it up tonight, in all honesty.”

“He wouldn’t,” Helena muttered. “He’s not in the habit of discussing anything that might embarrass him.”

“What happened? How did you come to return to London?”

Helena sighed. “I wasn’t careful enough and got caught. Andrew and I haven’t spoken of it, really. All I know, all I can tell you is that I’m so—” Her voice broke. “I’m so unhappy, Farah. My life hasn’t turned out the way I’d hoped it would.”

“Helena—”

“I’m sure everyone wonders why I married him to begin with. I thought he was so clever, that he’d opened up my world, and—and it doesn’t matter, does it? What matters is where I’ve ended up. Everything else is in the past.”

Farah took Helena’s hands in hers. “Yes, it is. It’s nothing to punish yourself for.”

“No,” Helena agreed. “I want freedom, not punishment. And for that, I need money. I was trying to save up what little I was given, but I was doing such a poor job of it. When you mentioned the one thousand pounds after your first visit to Mr. Montgomery’s, I came up with a plan to—well, you know.”

“The torn-up invitation to Mrs. Ramsbury’s I found at Hawkins & Montgomery—that was yours?”

Helena winced. “I’d destroyed it and stuffed it into my reticule, hoping that Andrew wouldn’t accompany me if I chose to go. It was just my luck that he got wind of it on his own.”

“It must have fallen out, somehow,” Farah said, knowing it didn’t matter anymore. Tilting her head to look into Helena’s pained eyes, she continued. “It’s unfair, Helena. It’s unfair that you find yourself in this position, unfair that marriage shackles you so.”

What would have happened if I’d found out about the duel after marrying Francis? Where would I be?

“I don’t want this to change anything for you.” Helena pulled a hand free to squeeze Farah’s shoulder. “The answer isn’t to avoid love or marriage or—or any of it. It’s to recognize that, when in a situation like mine, the only answer is to at least try to choose yourself.”

Helena’s words imprinted themselves onto some deep part of Farah’s psyche. It was a difficult truth to reckon with when one was so freshly in love, but she held it close nonetheless.

“Let me help you,” Farah said. “Please.”

“How?” Helena asked in a shaky whisper. “I’m under lock and key, as you can imagine.”

“That rat,” Farah grumbled. “He has no idea what he has.”

“Well,” Helena said, caught in thought, “he won’t have me for long.”

Farah smiled at this. “No, he won’t. I’ll tell Mr. Montgomery, and—”

“Mr. Montgomery?” Helena echoed. “Why tell him?”

“He’ll want to help.”

A wry expression flashed across Helena’s face, erasing her melancholy. “I stole from him.”

“He’ll understand. Trust me.”