Seeing Mary in her drenched, dishevelled state pushed the entire conversation with Mr Roach from Helena's mind. Momentarily forgetting everything but the distress of her friend, Helena moved wordlessly towards the front door, closing it behind the shivering Mary and gently leading her towards the staircase.

"See to it that a hot bath is prepared," urged Lord Alverton, eyeing Mary with concern. "Mr Roach and I shall step into my study in the meantime, so that we might agree the terms of my offer."

Helena bit her lip, reluctant to leave her father with Mr Roach. Lord Alverton had not left his chambers for a number of months; there was every danger of him being severely weakened after such a prolonged period without exercise.

With a particularly violent shiver from Mary, however, Helena decided she would have to trust her father's judgement. Dearly hoping she was not making a grievous mistake, Helena helped Mary up to her old guest bedchamber before ringing for a maid to have a bath drawn.

By the time Dorothy arrived to prepare the bath, Mary had successfully peeled off her sodden dress and underclothes, donning a robe which Helena had found for her instead while she waited. Dorothy could not seem to decide whether it was the return of Helena to Alverton Hall or the friendship between her mistress and Mary which caused her the greatest surprise; yet true to form, the maid said nothing on either subject.

While Mary thawed out in the steaming tub, Helena had half a mind to see how her father fared, or perhaps to seek out Joseph – yet instead she found herself hovering resolutely outside Mary's door, wanting to be available immediately should Mary have any desire to discuss what had happened with Sir Edmund.

"There is nothing to speak of," muttered Mary numbly once she and Helena were left alone in the bedchamber with Mary bathed and dressed in a fresh set of clothing.

Helena sighed, unwilling to force the issue. She could not help but recall how, faced with a similar scenario with Dorothy only a few months previously, Helena had refused to alter the topic of conversation until Dorothy had spoken what was on her mind. It made Helena cringe to think back to how demanding and prying she had been until only very recently. Although she had only ever wished to be of assistance by prompting her friends to discuss their troubles, Helena had learnt that people were more likely to share them in their own time.

Sure enough, after a lengthy period of companionable silence, Mary heaved a great sigh and began to pour forth her emotions.

"It is hopeless," she said dully, voice cracking. "He has no desire to know me now he has learnt of my true station in life."

This sounded most unlike the Sir Edmund that Helena knew – yet she decided it best not to contradict Mary.

"I cannot bear it, to think I have been so foolish!" she continued. "How could I have ever persuaded myself that such a gentleman would wish to be acquainted with a lady's maid? Mr Roach speaks the truth – I am a senseless creature indeed."

Now this Helena could not hear without contradicting.

"Mr Roach speaks nothing but evil falsehoods!" she cried. "Would a senseless creature have had the capacity to think so quickly as you did when rescuing me from those beasts at the inn?"

Mary blushed at the compliment, reluctant to see herself as a woman of any worth.

"It would seem Sir Edmund does not share your opinion," she replied meekly.

Helena bit back a sigh of exasperation. How frustrating it was, to see two people so perfectly in love, yet each unconsciously placing obstacles in the other's way! She now began to see how it must have been for Louisa whilst she and Joseph tiptoed about the issue of their love for each other.

"He requires time to overcome the sense of betrayal; that is all," said Helena, in what she hoped was a warm, comforting voice.

The effect upon Mary was not that which Helena had desired.

"You were not there!" she cried, voice fraught with misery. "You did not see the expression upon his face – he has no desire to know me, now that he has learnt who I truly am!"

"Sir Edmund is fully acquainted with your true self," Helena told her. "During your time spent here at Alverton Hall, you were Miss Thorpe by name only – the person Sir Edmund developed a friendship with was not Miss Thorpe, but Mary. He found your company enjoyable then; why should it no longer be the case?"

Mary offered Helena one her special, pitying looks – the sort which always made Helena feel rather naïve.

"You would believe that," sighed Mary, not unkindly. "In a perfect world, that would indeed be the case. Yet it is not so simple for Sir Edmund as deciding whether or not he enjoyed my company."

"He will forgive you..."

"It is not a question of forgiveness!" cut in Mary, curls bouncing on her shoulders as she gesticulated in her typical wild fashion. "It is a question of the infinite chasm society places between us! Were Sir Edmund to decide that he did forgive me for deceiving him, there would still be no hope for us – for it would be impossible to marry."

Helena blushed uncomfortably as Mary's words sank in. Reluctant though she was to admit it, Helena had indeed behaved in a similar fashion herself when Mary first arrived at Alverton Hall. Finding Mary to be ill-versed in the etiquette of society, Helena had initially attempted to distance herself from the girl, deciding her an unsuitable companion simply because she did not know the steps to any English country dances, or how to play the pianoforte.

What did it matter, truly? Did the ability to flirt with a fan or make polite conversation truly define one's self worth?

Or were there perhaps other traits of far greater importance – such as bravery, and compassion, and loyalty?

Helena had learnt to see beyond the false elegance of society; and she believed Sir Edmund would be able to as well.

"Please do not give up hope, Mary," urged Helena. "After all, Joseph and I succeeded in forming a union without the approval of society..."

Mary laughed; a harsh bark which caused Helena to start.

"Our circumstances are hardly alike!" she scoffed. "Mr Godwin may not be titled, yet he is the brother of a well-respected gentleman. I, on the other hand, am a servant. By right I should never have spoken to Sir Edmund unless spoken to first, nor have been seen above stairs for that matter! Your optimism is admirable, Lady Helena, yet I feel on this occasion it is severely misplaced."

Helena was about to remind Mary that it was through her influence she had learnt to view things more positively – but she was not to have the opportunity, for moments later the door to Mary's bedchamber was flung open, a terror-stricken Margaret tumbling in.

"Oh, thank heavens!" she gasped, struggling to catch her breath. "I have searched almost each and every bedchamber in this house for you!"

Mary, moments previously in the grip of heartbreak, seemed instantly to forget her own feelings at the sight of Margaret's distress. In two swift movements, she had leapt up off the bed and crossed the room, placing a comforting arm around her mistress' shoulder.

"Whatever has happened?" asked Helena, startled by Margaret's dishevelled appearance. With wild, bulging eyes, she had almost a feral look of rage about her, coupled with utter anguish and anxiety. A number of terrible scenarios flitted through Helena's mind; but none came close to the truth which Margaret duly disclosed.

"He has taken him!" she wailed, clutching at Mary as she swayed uncontrollably. It looked as if she were about to faint away at any moment; it was imperative Helena and Mary were made aware of the cause of her distress before she lost consciousness.

"Who has been taken?" pressed Helena urgently, praying the sinking feeling in her heart would not amount to the truth.

"George! He has taken my baby!" choked Margaret, confirming Helena's worst fears. There was no need to inquire who it was that had snatched the infant; only one person at Alverton Hall could possibly have such malicious intentions.

"How did it happen? Was Joseph not with you?"

Margaret shook her head, tears flowing faster.

"N-no! There was a commotion from downstairs – a maid calling out for help – Lord Alverton had been struck by Mr Roach, she said, and so Mr Godwin and I hurried there directly!"

Helena's stomach churned with sudden nausea.

"Good Lord!" she cried. "Is my father injured?"

"He appeared to have quite a mark on his cheek, and he was naturally rather traumatised – but thanks to Mr Godwin's rapid assistance, I do believe he will be well."

"Thank heavens," murmured Helena softly.

"It was whilst Mr Godwin was tending to Lord Alverton that the thought suddenly occurred to me," continued Margaret, gathering momentum now. "Mr Roach was alone somewhere in the house – and of course, my thoughts turned first towards George. Up I raced, towards the nursery where he had been placed – only to – t-to find..."

Helena swallowed, almost unwilling to hear the inevitable words she knew would come next.

"He had him," said Margaret, the fury vanishing from her voice, replaced by a cold, haunted quality. "He had my son in his arms, and he told me – he told me that I must return to Lanmeth House at once, or else he would take George away! I refused – there is not a chance I shall ever marry him – b-but when I told him so, he pushed past me so that I fell to the ground, and fled with my child!"

The volume of Margaret's voice had been steadily creeping up again as she spoke, ending in a barely decipherable shriek of hysteria. Yet her meaning was unmissable: Mr Roach had stolen George away, and he needed to be followed immediately before he left for good.

"When did this happen?" asked Helena, urgent to set measures in motion so that George might be found.

Margaret considered this a moment.

"I attempted to locate you as soon as Mr Roach left the nursery – I should think it has been a quarter of an hour, perhaps."

Helena nodded, relieved. A quarter of an hour was not enough time for Mr Roach to put too much distance between himself and Alverton Hall. If they arranged a search party promptly, then hopefully – hopefully, they would be in time.

Turning to Mary, who had been unusually silent throughout the entire exchange, Helena noticed a steely glint of determination in her vibrant green eyes. Helena had thought Mary to be distracted by thoughts of Sir Edmund – but now, seeing that familiar expression upon her friend's face, Helena realised even before Mary said a word what she had truly been thinking.

"We must go," said Mary simply.

Helena considered this a moment.

"You could take ill, Mary," Helena warned her. "You have already been out of doors in dreadful weather today."

As expected, Mary offered Helena a withering glare.

"How does a cold compare to the price of George's life?" was her sharp reply.

There was nothing Helena could say to that. And, the more she considered it, the more sense Mary's suggestion seemed to make. It would take time to gather a search party – time they did not have to lose.

"Will you?" breathed Margaret, eyes brimming with hope as her gaze moved between Helena and Mary. "Will you go after him?"

At the innocent hope in Margaret's eyes, Helena felt the last of her resolve waning. She wondered at Margaret's ability to repeatedly place herself and those she loved in such desperate situations – yet Helena was far too entrapped in the web of Margaret's troubles with Mr Roach to refuse to assist her now. The only thing holding her back was the thought of her father; the thought of betraying him, of leaving him alone and in need when he had come to her aid with Mr Roach.

But Joseph is with him, she reminded herself. Joseph will take care of him; he will understand.

"Very well," replied Helena. "Let us go."

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A/N: As promised, here's a bonus update to celebrate my 2 year Wattpad birthday! Since joining Wattpad two years ago, I've managed to post one (almost two!) complete first drafts of novels, along with a number of short stories. I would never have been able to do it without the encouragement and support of you guys, so I'd like to thank you all for giving my stories a chance and being the best readers! <3