-
A Compromising Marriage
Date: 9/7/2015, Categories: Historical, Author: curvygalore, Rating: , Source: LushStories
spoke when spoken too and smiled until her jaw ached. Having been leered over by an ancient dandy in far too tight clothing, with what she suspected was neither his own hair or teeth hair nor teeth, Helena was rather relieved when a respectable looking man claimed her attention and was introduced as Colonel Matthews. He was an older man, perhaps in his late forties or early fifties, and deeply tanned, which Mrs Warner explained away later by him having spent some time in India during his career. The very next day, the good Colonel left his calling card at the house, along with a pretty nosegay of flowers for Helena; and given an obvious sign of interest, this was efficiently followed up by a formal visit. Mrs Warner provided her with any details she had gleaned on her inquiries. That Colonel Matthews was twice widowed; his first family quite grown up and the second still mere children in the nursery of his country home just outside Richmond. Although he had retired from active service he spent much of his time in London at Whitehall and the Horseguards giving military advice during the longstanding war with France. He seemed to find Helena very much to his liking and his attentions led to being accompanied to the theatre or a musical evening at the Assembly Rooms and even a ride in his barouche up to Lansdowne Hill accompanied by an eagle-eyed Mrs Warner. However, Helena was only mildly flattered by all this. She was all too aware that if his attentions were serious, it was ... not because he was smitten with her but because he wanted a housekeeper, a nursemaid and someone to look elegant and fitting on his arm at state occasions. His attentions remained steady in the days following and an understanding was established between him and Mrs Warner, however Helena’s opinion on the Colonel was never requested. During this critical juncture Helena felt de trop to the conversation between her elders and was walking dejectedly along Milsom Street when she found herself being hailed by Jean Claude. “Why is such a lovely lady promenading toute seule?” He asked with his usual charming smile. Helena explained the situation in slightly downcast tones and he looked puzzled. “Are you not pleased?” He inquired, and Helena felt safe enough with him to be honest about her feelings. “I am resigned to the idea.” She said with a shrug, trying not to sound petulant. She had heard Jean-Claude’s life story; how with Revolutionary fever rife in France he had fled as a child with only some of his family. His lands and title had gone and the rest of his relatives having met their fate at the guillotine. He dealt gracefully with the fact that he was only a Comte in name and in reality a mere dancing master in a fading resort. She felt churlish to compare her relatively comfortable fate with his difficulties. Jean Luke paused, his hand on her gloved arm, his face showing genuine concern as he persisted: “But don’t you like him?” “I don’t dislike him.” Helena said, which was ...