Once Beloved Read Free

them.
    â€œHelena,” the woman said, as she fanned her friend with the bonnet. “Helena, can you hear me? You must wake. Your sons are worried.”
    That startled him, the mention of the boys he’d seen her watching. Her sons, of course. They now stood a small distance away, watching intently. Even if they hadn’t looked so similar, anyone could tell by their seriousness that she was their mother. The younger boy looked as if he wanted nothing more than to run to his mother and cling to her, but the older boy took his hand and whispered something unintelligible in his brother’s ear, something pacifying that straightened the young one’s spine with resolve. Their controlled concern made him suspect they’d witnessed her collapsing before. Only then did the woman’s words sink fully into his consciousness; he was embracing a total stranger, a respectable woman, in front of her children, no less. He ought to establish a proper distance, lest her people, including the husband she must have, be outraged by his familiarity.
    â€œIs this your mother, young man?” he said to the older child, who nodded solemnly. “She’s breathing easy but should be watched. Your coat’d make a fine cushion for her head. Be a good lad and bring it here.”
    The boy rushed over as he tried to shrug out of his coat without releasing his brother’s hand. It would have been comical seeing them bluster along, if their expressions weren’t so somber. Something nagged at him as he looked at them, that strange and fleeting sense of familiarity. As gently as he could, he laid the woman on the bench with her son’s coat pillowing her head and moved a respectable pace away. He should go see if he could find a physician, as the other woman had suggested, but he found himself reluctant to leave her side, reluctant to lose sight of her.
    She was lighter than she looked. When he carried her, he felt her soft, fleshy curves against his arms and chest, reminding him of a painting he’d once seen by some famous painter. Yet she felt light in his embrace. But then, ladies probably wouldn’t appreciate knowing that they felt lighter than the average ram or on par with a ewe ready for breeding.
    â€œThank you, sir. This is most kind of you,” her companion said, her attention focused on her friend. She rapped the woman’s hand and said firmly, “Helena, you must wake up.” But she didn’t appear to be alarmed.
    â€œHas this happened to your friend before?”
    â€œUnfortunately, yes. She sometimes has these spells, especially when surrounded by large groups of people. Fortunately, they don’t last long. She should wake on her own momentarily.”
    That explained the unconscious woman’s odd demeanor earlier. Still, why would she choose to come here voluntarily with such a condition?
    â€œShe could have been severely injured if you hadn’t caught her,” the woman continued. “Is there some way I can repay you for your assistance.”
    â€œNo man worth his salt would ignore a woman in distress. Nor would he accept repayment for his aid.”
    â€œI wish all men thought as you do.” He thought he heard her sigh and she straightened. Her flowered hat tilted rather precariously from all the activity. “I am Mrs. Frederick Clarke, and my husband and I would be delighted if you would join us for dinner.”
    â€œPleasure to meet you, Mrs. Clarke. Daniel Lanfield. I’m in London only for a short time. Your hospitality is—”
    The woman he now knew was named Helena gasped as she revived.
    â€œI must get out of here!” she exclaimed as she tried to rise, only to be restrained by Mrs. Clarke, who admonished, “Mrs. Martin, you shall do no such thing. You’ve just had an episode, so you will now sit quietly until we are certain you have suffered no ill effects.”
    â€œMarissa! I can’t breathe! Let me