"Were you ravished?" Elizabeth asked. "Helen, if it is true, you must have the courage to go to your parents. The man must be brought to justice. You cannot be blamed."

"No," the girl said. "It was not like that. I loved him. Oh, God help me, I loved him. I gave myself willingly. And he left me." Her hands were over her face again.

Elizabeth looked at her and held her breath as she asked the question. "Not William, Helen?"

"Yes," she said.

Elizabeth stood up. "I can hardly believe it," she said, dazed. "William! I cannot imagine him behaving so dishonorably. To ruin you and then to abandon you! And does he now refuse to marry you?" But he had just said he loved the girl, her mind recalled.

"No," Helen said, "he offered for me soon after we came to London. I refused him."

"But why, Helen? It is the only solution, is it not?"

"I cannot marry him," the girl replied. "He thought me a mere servant girl when he knew me in Yorkshire. Yet as soon as he discovered my true identity here, he positively rushed to Papa so that he might do the proper thing. I could not marry a man who offered for all the wrong reasons."

"But there is the baby to think about too," Elizabeth said. "William must feel that he owes your child a name."

"I have not told him," Helen said.

"He does not know?"

"No."

Elizabeth sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to order her whirling thoughts. She could not quite believe the things she was hearing about her friend, whom she had always considered the soul of propriety and honor. But digesting those facts would have to wait awhile. At present the frightened girl beside her was in desperate need of help.

"You will have to leave London immediately," she said. "I shall take you to Hetherington Manor, shall I? It is in Sussex, not very far away. If we were to leave tomorrow as soon as possible after returning from here, we would have to spend only one night on the road."

"I could not ask that of you," Helen said tonelessly.

"I think you have very little choice," Elizabeth said very gently. "You will need a place where you can come to terms with what is happening to you, and Hetherington is a very private place. You need not worry that you will be taking me away from the social whirl. London life is something I can take or leave with equal cheerfulness. I shall be happy to take John back to the country."

"I cannot impose upon you after the shabby way I have treated you," Helen said.

"Nonsense!" Elizabeth said briskly. "Now that I understand your behavior, I can quite easily forget it. I shall ask your mama if you may accompany me to the country for a visit. Will you tell her the truth before we leave, Helen? She will have to know soon, you know."

"I know." Helen's hand was over her mouth. "Oh, but I cannot. I cannot say it to her. I have imagined myself doing so many times in the last few months when I am in her presence. And I know I just cannot do it."

"Then you must write to her as soon as we reach Hetherington," Elizabeth said, "and then the worst will be over. You will be able to relax. It is important, you know, that you be as tranquil as possible during the next few months, and that you rest and eat well. Your child is in no way to blame for anything that has happened. He must be given a good start in life."

"Why are you willing to do this for me?" Helen asked. "I have done nothing to deserve your concern. Indeed, I would have thought you must dislike me intensely."

Elizabeth smiled. "I have recently become a mother myself," she said. "Perhaps it is just that my maternal instincts are working to excess at the present. Will you tell William too, Helen? He has a right to know."

"No!" Helen said sharply. "I do not wish him to know. He will be forever pestering me if he finds out the truth. He would not have cared that much"-she snapped her fingers in the air-"if I had been a mere tenant's daughter or a servant. For all I know, the country may be littered with his illegitimate offspring."

"I think you do him some injustice," Elizabeth said gently. "But, I know. Sometimes we are inclined to think far worse of those we love most than we are of anyone else. We expect perfection in our loved ones, I suppose."

Helen looked up. "He said that just now," she said.

"You do love him, do you not?"

"Yes."

"I shall leave you now," Elizabeth continued. "Will you be all right? Do try to rest. Tomorrow if all is well we shall set out for the country and there you will be able to relax and prepare for the future. You will be safe with me, Helen. I shall look after you."

"Only promise me one thing," Helen said as Elizabeth rose to leave. "Promise me that you will say nothing to him."

"Of course I will not," Elizabeth assured her. "That information must come from you when you are ready. But remember, Helen, that he should know. Your child is his too. Good night."

"Good night," Helen said. "Thank you, your ladyship."

" 'Elizabeth,' " that lady said, smiling warmly at the girl as she left the room.


***

"If you and John are going to Hetherington tomorrow, then of course I must come too," Robert Denning was saying an hour later when he and Elizabeth were in their room together.

"No," she said. "I think it is important that I be alone with her for a while. She is very frightened and very bewildered, Robert. I think your presence would merely distress her more."

He caught her arm and pulled her against him. "We have not been apart since last year," he said. "I am afraid to be without you again, Elizabeth."

She put her arms up around his neck. "You are being absurd," she said. "Do you imagine that if we part again, someone or something will keep us apart as they did seven years ago? It will not happen again, darling, you know that. I hate the thought of being away from you too. I am not even sure I shall be able to sleep without your shoulder to lay my head on. But that poor girl is in dreadful trouble, Robert. I cannot leave her to face it alone. You should have seen the look of utter desperation in her eyes just before she told me."

"Can it really be true?" he asked, frowning down into her upturned face. "It just does not seem like William at all. To tell you the truth, I thought he had never had anything to do with women. I am sure he had not when I knew him in London."

"I really do not know the full story," she said, "but I do know that those two love each other. And they are worlds apart, Robert. Sometimes one feels so helpless."

He hugged her to him and laid his cheek against hers. "It seems I have no choice but to let you go," he said. "But not for long, Elizabeth. A week is the longest I can give you. I shall come to you then. Will that be long enough?"

"Yes," she said. "John and I cannot possibly live without you any longer than that."

He moved his head back from hers and grinned down at her. "If this is to be our last night together for a whole week, darling," he said, "I do not know why we are wasting time standing here fully clothed. Do you?"

"I really cannot imagine," she agreed, "unless it is that you are remarkably slow." |

"Minx!" he said, his hands at her back. "I never have broken you of the habit of wearing these dresses with the scores of buttons down the back, have I?"

Chapter 14

Helen was gazing through the window of the Marquess of Hetherington's very comfortable traveling carriage. Although this was their second day of travel, she felt quite free of the aches and pains that had made the journey from Yorkshire a torment a few weeks before. She felt relaxed for the first time in several months. Not happy, it was true. But it was an enormous relief to be at least partly free of the burden of her secret.

She looked across to the seat opposite, where Elizabeth was smiling down at her baby. He was gazing back up at her, his eyes fixed and occasionally drooping. He would be asleep very soon. Helen could still not imagine why her companion had chosen to be so kind. They were barely acquainted and Helen had not done anything to endear herself to either of the Hetheringtons. Quite the opposite, in fact. Yet here she was on her way to a safe haven in Sussex, safe until after the birth of her child if she wished, Elizabeth had said.

She had seriously misjudged both husband and wife, Helen thought ruefully, returning her attention to the passing scenery. Elizabeth had mentioned the day before, laughingly, not at all in reproach, that she and the marquess had not been away from each other at all since their reunion the year before. Yet clearly he must have permitted her to leave, and she had chosen to do so, all for the sake of a stranger who had committed an unpardonable indiscretion and who had always treated them in an ill-mannered way.

It was just one more sin to add to the many. She really had made a terrible mess of her life, and there was no real chance that she would ever be able to live normally again. There was always the chance, of course, that she could find a foster-home for the child without anyone finding out what had happened. She was sure her father would be only too eager to pay for the child's keep. But she knew tbat she would not be able to turn to that solution. Despite everything, now that her pregnancy was an accomplished fact, she wanted the child. She felt a fierce love of it, a determination to devote her life to its upbringing. And heaven knew, the child would need as much love as she had to give. The stigma of bastardy was not easily shaken.