Looking back, Helena would wonder how on earth she managed to preserve her sanity during the month of January. Aware as she now was of Mary's true identity, Helena marvelled at how the maid had succeeded in keeping her secret all this time.

As promised, Helena had not told a soul about the dire situation with Margaret and the heir to Lanmeth House. It was difficult to keep Mary's identity hidden, though – especially the more she witnessed Mary's interaction with Sir Edmund. He usually left Alverton Hall early in the new year, but this year he had decided to remain for the entirety of January, and Helena was astute enough to realise it was due to the growing affection Sir Edmund clearly felt for Mary.

Helena was therefore not surprised, upon entering the breakfast room on the first Monday in February, to find Sir Edmund and Mary deep in conversation, intently holding eye contact as they sat far closer together than mere acquaintances should. Mary's skin had a pinkish tinge, her eyes bright as she smiled bashfully at something Sir Edmund had said, and she had never looked so beautiful.

The pair broke apart as soon as they noticed Helena's presence – as if I don't know quite well what is going on here, thought Helena wryly. Taking her usual seat next to her father's empty one – Lord Alverton had been taking breakfast in his chambers since Christmas – Helena frowned in displeasure.

"Good morning, Lady Helena," Sir Edmund greeted her cheerfully.

"Good morning," came her stiff reply.

She didn't mean to be so prim – in her opinion, Sir Edmund and Mary were very well suited in terms of disposition.

In terms of position in society, however, they could not be further apart.

It would be easy to blame Mary for encouraging Sir Edmund's attentions towards her. Sir Edmund, after all, thought her to be a gentleman's daughter named Miss Thorpe – he had no idea that a match between them could in reality never take place. Sir Edmund was kind-hearted, yes - but once Mary was revealed to be a maid, it would be impossible for him to take her as his bride.

Just then, a maid entered the breakfast room, letter in hand.

"Post for Miss Thorpe, milady."

Helena and Mary exchanged a wide-eyed look over the breakfast table. Since their conversation on Boxing Day, they had not discussed Margaret, but Helena assumed Mary had written to London as she'd suggested – surely this letter, then, contained Margaret's response.

"Please allow me to be excused," said Mary, rising from the table with the letter clutched in her hands like a prized talisman.

Just as Helena was wondering if she could formulate some sort of excuse to follow Mary, the maid turned to address her.

"There is a visitor in drawing room for you, milady," she announced. "It is Lord Carningsby."

Helena's heart dropped to her stomach.

"Tell him – please inform him that I will be with him in five minutes," stuttered Helena.

With a curtsey of acknowledgement, the maid took her leave.

"Oh, Lord," breathed Helena as soon as the maid was out of sight.

"What is it?" asked Sir Edmund, concerned.

Helena swallowed, unsure how to explain. I am about to receive a proposal which I shall have to refuse as I have promised to protect the woman you are attracted to, who is in fact a lady's maid fleeing a wicked man who ruined her mistress - there was no easy way of relaying that.

"Lord Carningsby and I had a – disagreement – the last time he visited," she told him instead. "I am hoping we can now resolve the matter."

It was not a lie – the matter of her courtship with Lord Carningsby would be resolved, one way or another.

With nothing else to delay her from facing up to the inevitable ordeal, Helena knew the time had finally come. Making her way reluctantly downstairs to the drawing room, Helena paused a moment to compose herself before entering the room where Lord Carningsby sat in wait.

Upon crossing the threshold of the bright and airy room, Helena found Lord Carningsby to be pacing back and forth in front of the large windows. As he basked in the glow of the wintry sunlight flooding the room, Helena took in his intelligent hazel eyes and impeccably-styled brown hair; his lean frame dressed in attire of the latest fashion. It was easy to remember why she had found herself so attracted to him.

Noticing her presence, Lord Carningsby turned away from the window and crossed the room, pressing a chaste kiss upon Helena's hand.

"Lady Helena," he greeted her, with far more solemnity and maturity than he usually would. "I hope I find you in good health."

"I am, thank you," she replied distractedly, anxiously anticipating the painful direction this conversation would soon take. "I hope you passed a pleasant stay with your relatives."

"Indeed, thank you – it was refreshing to visit a different location for some time. It offered me the chance to consider one or two things with an altered perspective."

Helena squirmed, wondering what he might mean.

"Lord Carningsby," she stammered, overcome with a sudden desire to have this most uncomfortable matter over and done with. "When we last conversed..."

To Helena's horror, Lord Carningsby silenced her with an impatient wave of the hand.

"Yes, yes, I remember it well. However – I wish for you to know, Lady Helena, that I deeply regret the nature of my words when last we spoke."

"You – you do?" squeaked Helena nervously, not liking this unexpected turn of events.

"Most sincerely, Lady Helena. I have agonised over it throughout my time away – and I have come to the conclusion that I put you in a most uncomfortable position. That was incredibly unjust and ungentlemanly of me, and I ask humbly now for your forgiveness."

"No, Lord Carningsby..." muttered Helena desperately, but once again she found herself silenced.

"No?" echoed Lord Carningsby, his voice sending a chill of fear down Helena's spine. It was dangerously quiet, and full of threat – quite unlike anything she had heard from her suitor in all the time she'd known him.

"Are you telling me that you do not accept my apology?" questioned Lord Carningsby, eyes flashing with an awful kind of menace. His charming, humble persona had vanished entirely, and Helena suddenly found herself quite frightened to be alone in his company.

"No – that is to say – I do accept your apology," stuttered Helena fearfully. "It is only that I fear what I have to say will anger you."

And indeed, Lord Carningsby did already look angry – a flicker of frustration passed over his face, replaced momentarily by a smooth, neutral expression which looked as though it cost him great effort.

"Dear, sweet Helena," he crooned, all forced politeness. "Whatever could you say to anger me? You know that I love you, and wish to marry you."

Helena's stomach churned, repulsed. She may once have been attracted to Lord Carningsby; but now, she could think of nothing worse than having to marry him. During this conversation, he had revealed himself to have a quick temper and nastiness which he had succeeded in keeping hidden, and Helena was only thankful she'd had chance to witness it before she made a grievous mistake in committing herself to him for the rest of her life.

"I am terribly sorry, Lord Carningsby," replied Helena meekly, "for I have not done as you asked. You instructed me to send Miss Thorpe away, but I have not done so – therefore I fear you will wish to marry me no longer."

Lord Carningsby slammed a fist upon the great oak cabinet he stood next to, causing the ornaments atop it to jump and rattle. Instinctively Helena retreated a step – back towards the door which was her only exit route.

"Stupid woman – have you not been listening to me?" he snarled, the vehemence in his voice making Helena flinch. "I no longer care about that silly guest of yours! Now, you are going to be quiet and allow me to propose to you, damn it – you have made me wait long enough!"

To her horror, Helena found tears stinging the back of her eyes.

From the moment that she'd learned it was her destiny in life to marry well, she had fantasised many a time about how magical and romantic and special receiving a proposal would be. What had she done to deserve this aggressive, insulting speech, devoid of any love or kindness?

It was in that moment, staring with horror at the way Lord Carningsby's mouth practically frothed with frustration, that Helena well and truly made her decision: there was nothing on earth that could convince her to marry this man now. Far better to remain a spinster; far better even to face her father's wrath; anything, rather than a life joined to this beastly creature.

"I will not," replied Helena calmly, though she secretly trembled with fear. Desperately she attempted to remain composed, even as Lord Carningsby's face contorted with rage.

"I beg your pardon?" he snarled, advancing a step towards her.

"I will not allow you to propose to me," repeated Helena, painfully aware of her heart hammering against her ribcage, "for I have no intention of becoming your wife."

A stunned silence followed her words, during which Helena dearly wished she could retract them. Lord Carningsby looked now half-deranged, on the verge of doing something desperate – and Helena wondered if perhaps she might not need to cry out and alert someone of her trouble.

"Stupid, ignorant girl!" hissed Lord Carningsby. "You will not receive a second proposal; I hope you realise that! Not one nobleman in the land shall treat you so generously as I have! That repulsive, common woman from Yorkshire has ruined your family's reputation, yet I was still willing to have you – mark my words, you shall not find another who would do the same!"

"Then I would rather remain a spinster," replied Helena indignantly, "if the only other option available is to join myself to such an abhorrent person as you."

This final speech seemed to have breached Lord Carningsby's limit. In a flash, the enraged young man had crossed the room and raised his arm, ready to strike. Helena flinched, covering her head with her hands for protection – but just then, the door behind her was flung open with an audible crash.

"Just what is going on here?" gasped an outraged voice, in a broad Yorkshire accent Helena had never been more grateful to hear.

"Ma – Miss Thorpe!" cried Helena, nearly sobbing with relief.

In an instant Mary was beside her, a protective arm around Helena's shoulder as she surveyed Lord Carningsby with severe distaste.

Lord Carningsby himself started awkwardly, as if coming to his senses.

"I... we..." he spluttered incoherently.

Mary dismissed him with a disgusted glare, turning to address Helena instead.

"Lady Helena," she muttered urgently, "I have received word at last – and it is not the news I hoped for."

Helena's eyes widened, processing what Mary had said. In the midst of the frightening scene with Lord Carningsby, Helena had momentarily forgotten Mary's letter – but all at once, Margaret's dreadful situation came flooding back.

"How bad is it?" replied Helena, though the grim line of Mary's lips said it all.

"It is as I feared," hissed Mary, barely audible. "She has been dismissed – I intend to journey to London immediately."

Helena's heart constricted painfully at Mary's words. Dismissed! How would Margaret survive now? How would she pay the rent on her property? Why, she would not even be in a position to afford care for her baby once it arrived!

"I will accompany you," said Helena firmly, before she had chance to overthink the matter.

Mary shook her head desperately.

"That is incredibly kind, Lady Helena, but I cannot ask you to endanger yourself in such a way!"

"I promised to offer my assistance – in any way I could," insisted Helena. "Therefore, I shall more than willingly go with you."

The women surveyed each other intently, completely forgetting they were not alone until Lord Carningsby cut across their whispered conversation.

"Go?" he echoed menacingly. "Go where, exactly?"

Helena jumped, before turning slowly to face the man she had come to despise this past half hour. Taking in the cold, hard expression on his face, and the unpleasant way his lips curled in a smirk of superiority, Helena shuddered at the thought of ever having considered him as someone she might marry.

"I intend to go as far away as possible from you," replied Helena fiercely. "Come, Mary. There are far more important matters at stake."

And, hardly believing her own boldness and daring, Helena took Mary by the arm and steered her out of the drawing room, leaving a stunned and furious Lord Carningsby behind.

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A/N: Well, I think Helena certainly put Lord Carningsby in his place there! Although I don't think that's the last we'll be seeing of him...

For now though, Helena and Mary are off to London, and there is plenty of drama ahead! As always, please vote or comment if you enjoyed - I really do appreciate every read, vote and comment so much <3