The Baron and the Bluestocking Read Free Page B

were tears of humiliation. How ungallant! Ungentlemanly!
    “I do not in the least wish you to be attracted to me!” she spat before she could think. Her color rose and she tried to stare him down. But her tears fell, and she looked away.
    “Then I must beg your pardon.” He bowed his head slightly.
    Turning away, she walked shakily into the next room, where the orphans were to be taught needlework and other homemaking arts. Hélène wished ardently that the man would disappear. Pulling a handkerchief out of her sleeve, she wiped her eyes.
    He came up behind her. “Honey catches more flies than vinegar, you know.”
    “Go away!” she said with a sniff. How often had her father repeated that same homily? How would this man know what it was like to be a gently nurtured, penniless female in this blighted society? As she whirled to throw this thought in his face, she found that he was escorting Lady Clarice back through the reading room and out of the school.
    *~*~*
    “What did you think of our patron?” Beth Hilliard asked her as they dressed for dinner back at the Blakeley mansion.
    “Insulting, bigoted, and altogether too opinionated,” she said, her back to her friend. Hélène bit her lip as tears started again.
    Beth laughed. “I did not think so. After all, the same might be said of you, dear. I think he annoyed you because he was so excessively handsome. Right down to that enticing dimple in his chin. You wanted him to be earnest and plain. Like the Blakeley’s son, perhaps?”
    Hélène sniffed and blew her nose. “Samuel is not plain. Just . . . ordinary. I like him very well the way he is.” Looking in the mirror, she readjusted the knot on the top of her head. It was listing to the east. “Oh, bother!” she said. “I think I shall cut off my hair!”
    “You will not!” Beth exclaimed, coming up behind her and peeping around to study her own reflection. “I will wrest the scissors from your hand myself! Your hair is glorious. It is really too bad you have determined not to marry, Hélène. A man could worship that hair.”
    Hélène felt her face color. “I do not want to place my fate in the hands of a man ever again,” she said. “My papa was good and kind. He never mistreated us in the normal way. But what kind of person leaves his family starving?”
    “I agree that was unconscionable,” Beth said. “But I do not want to marry a man solely for financial support, you know. I wish to know love. And I wish to have children.”
    “My parents were in love,” Hélène said with a note of sadness. “And they certainly had children.”
    When they joined Catherine and Mary for dinner in the dining room, they found their friends overflowing with admiration for the baron.
    “If I met that man anywhere else I would never imagine that he could have such a compassionate side,” Catherine said.
    “He is excessively handsome,” Mary said with a sigh.
    Hélène refrained from comment. What they said was true, but he was also excessively rude. “I am glad you are to have a piano at the school, Catherine. Perhaps Mrs. Blakeley will give you leave after dinner to play on hers tonight. I would dearly love to hear some Bach.”
    “Oh, yes!” said their hostess. “I would like that very much. And Samuel is to join us. He is very fond of music.”
    *~*~*
    Hélène was very happy to see Samuel Blakeley that evening. While Catherine played, they spoke in low tones.
    “There is to be a by-election in two months,” Samuel said. “I have been selected as the Whig candidate.”
    “Samuel! You have decided to stand for Parliament?”
    “Yes. Chipping Norton is becoming a Whig stronghold. It is time we should have a Whig candidate.”
    “How thrilling! If I cannot stand for election myself, the next best thing is for you to take it on. I will help in any way I can.”
    Speaking brown eyes looked into hers. “I shall have to make speeches.”
    “Does that worry you?”
    He gave a half grin. While Samuel