Helena couldn't ever recall feeling so mortified.

As someone who had spent a great many years agonising over correct etiquette, Helena usually took pride in being the one who knew exactly what to say, behaving with perfect tact and discretion in every situation. Never before had she insulted a stranger in such an abhorrent way as she had poor Miss Thorpe! Helena dearly wished the floor of the entrance hall would suddenly cave in, enveloping her entirely.

What made matters even worse, if anything, was Miss Thorpe's reaction to the ordeal. Helena had been expecting a cry of outrage or even an insult in return; she had certainly not been prepared for the hearty laugh which escaped the woman's lips during the painful silence which ensued. Clearly Miss Thorpe thought the entire thing a joke!

Helena had found herself at a complete loss for words, spending several more uncomfortable seconds attempting to stutter out an apology, only to have it waved away unconcernedly by Miss Thorpe. Just as Helena had been thinking she might burst into tears and flee the entrance hall, they had been interrupted by the conveniently-timed announcement that tea was ready, leaving Helena with no choice but to show Miss Thorpe upstairs to the dining room and introduce her to Lord Alverton.

The remainder of the evening passed in a daze for Helena. Barely able to concentrate on anything other than her unbearable mistake, Helena spent almost the entirety of the time in stunned silence. She was, therefore, completely oblivious to the fact that on more than one occasion Miss Thorpe selected the wrong set of cutlery to eat with, in addition to taking far larger mouthfuls than etiquette dictated one should. If Lord Alverton noticed, he made no comment, clearly delighted to have a guest with them at Alverton Hall.

A typical evening at Alverton Hall would see Helena entertaining her father on the pianoforte; this particular night, however, Helena found herself feigning a headache and retiring to her chambers, too embarrassed to remain in Miss Thorpe's company. Helena could only hope that she would be offered the chance to apologise properly in the morning.

Sleep did not come easily at the best of times, and this particular night was one of much tossing and turning – so Helena was not best pleased to be woken abruptly and far too early the next morning by a flood of bright light entering her bedchamber as the heavy velvet drapes were thrown open.

"What time is it?" she mumbled irritably, blinking blearily in the sunlight now bathing the room. Dorothy, her maid, knew that Helena liked to be woken at seven 'o' clock precisely each morning; it was not like her to neglect her mistress' wishes.

Eyes now adjusted to the brightness, Helena suddenly noticed that it was not, in fact, Dorothy who stood at the window. No, Helena's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets to realise that it was in fact Miss Thorpe currently occupying her bedchamber at this unearthly hour!

"Miss Thorpe!" squawked Helena, quite forgetting to speak politely as she marvelled at the sheer impropriety of the situation. "Whatever is the meaning of this?"

"Good morning, Lady Helena!" Miss Thorpe greeted her brightly, as if it were perfectly normal for her to be barging about in Helena's bedchamber while Helena herself was still asleep. Her voice was far too loud for this time of the morning, and Helena groaned internally at the excessive noise. Miss Thorpe, however, seemed not to notice, turning back to the window with a contented sigh.

"Is it not just the most pleasant of mornings, Lady Helena? Do you not live for days as beautiful as this? Why, when the sun is shining so, and the sky such a shimmering blue, I cannot thank God enough for granting me the chance to live in this country. One could not imagine anywhere prettier than England."

Thankfully Miss Thorpe finally drew breath, allowing Helena a moment to gather her thoughts. Having never before witnessed such bizarre behaviour from a guest, Helena was at rather a loss as to how best to behave. Remembering the mortifying meeting with Miss Thorpe the previous evening, though, Helena decided she had best proceed with caution.

"Miss Thorpe, might I ask why you took it upon yourself to wake me this morning?" inquired Helena, forced politeness in every syllable she spoke.

"Oh!" gasped Miss Thorpe, as if only just realising that she had behaved out of turn. "Oh, I am sorry, Lady Helena! It is just that I was awake rather early, and wished to make myself of some use – so I wandered down to the kitchens, to see whether I might assist with anything, when I met Dorothy, your maid. It seemed she had rather a lot to be getting along with, so I offered to alleviate some stress by rousing you. I can assure you, Lady Helena, that I only wished to be of assistance!"

"Miss Thorpe!" cried Helena, aghast. "There was no need for you to do such a thing! You are a guest at my father's house; during your stay, you will receive the same treatment as if you were one of our family members. Please, do not worry yourself about 'making yourself useful', as you say; I should hate for you to think that we required a service from you in exchange for our hospitality! No, that will not do at all."

It was difficult to retain any sort of dignity whilst lying abed, Helena realised – but thankfully, the message seemed to have reached Miss Thorpe.

"Lady Helena, you are too kind!" she cried.

"Nonsense," mumbled Helena bashfully, not feeling particularly kind at all. She had, after all, spoken most rudely to Miss Thorpe only the previous day; but if Miss Thorpe seemed willing to forget the event, Helena would simply have to do the same.

"Breakfast will not be served for a while," commented Helena. "Perhaps we might amuse ourselves by wandering about the house? I fear I was rather too fatigued to offer a tour last night."

Miss Thorpe's eyes instantly lit up at the prospect.

"Oh, yes please – that would be wonderful!" she cried enthusiastically.

Helena beamed in response. Although she and Miss Thorpe might not have got off to the best of starts in their relationship, Helena felt certain all awkwardness which had transpired was now forgotten. Sighing contentedly as she rose from bed and rang for Dorothy to help her dress, Helena felt more positive about Miss Thorpe's stay than she had since the young woman's arrival yesterday.

Order had been resumed; all would be well after all.

***

During their brief walk about Alverton Hall, it soon came to Helena's notice that she had, in fact, neglected more than one of her duties over the past few days. Frustrated, Helena silently vowed not to allow thoughts of Joseph to distract her from her work again – there were some things of far greater importance than foolish romantic fantasies which would likely never come to fruition. No, from now on Helena would busy herself with household matters, and ensuring that Miss Thorpe had the most pleasant of stays in Alverton.

Mid-morning brought a further distraction – for Helena received a call from one Lord Reginald Carningsby.

A young baron of relatively large fortune, Lord Carningsby had purchased the long-vacant Berkton Manor near Alverton almost six months ago – just after Joseph had left to travel the Continent. Helena remembered the time well, for it was the time when her heart felt as though it had been cleaved in two. Desperately missing Joseph, and all that their friendship might have become, Helena passed April and most of May in unbearable misery and solitude.

Lord Carningsby's arrival in the neighbourhood, therefore, had been a welcome distraction for Helena. The baron had instantly taken an interest in her – probably, thought Helena, because she was the only single young female within twenty miles – and the pair had formed an acquaintance over the following months. Lord Alverton openly encouraged this friendship; as a titled man, Lord Carningsby was considered an ideal suitor for his beloved daughter.

Helena had participated rather half-heartedly in the scheme at first. Though her mind knew an attachment to Lord Carningsby please her father, her heart still pined for the childhood friend overseas. As October came, however, with still no sign of his returning, Helena's heart had grown weary, allowing her mind to freely influence her decisions. It would, she finally admitted, make no sense at all to refuse Lord Carningsby's advances; not unless she wished to remain a spinster her entire life, consequently failing her parents completely.

And so, when Lord Carningsby proposed – as it had been rumoured he was soon to do – Helena had decided she would accept.

Still, this did nothing to quash the swirling fear in her stomach each time he visited, as Helena wondered if today might be the day.

Having Miss Thorpe with her would be very beneficial; there was simply no way Lord Carningsby could propose if there was another lady in the room. Upon learning that Lord Carningsby was Helena's beau, as she put it, Miss Thorpe wondered aloud if perhaps she should be privy to the meeting – but thankfully Helena managed to convince the young woman that her presence was very much welcome.

Lord Carningsby was sprawled across a settee when Helena and Miss Thorpe entered the drawing room, although he instantly sprung to his feet to perform the customary bow of greeting.

"Good day, Lord Carningsby," Helena greeted him politely, bobbing a slight curtsey in response. "This is Miss Thorpe, a guest of ours at Alverton Hall, and a family friend of my dear late mother."

Miss Thorpe bobbed an awkward curtsey, stumbling on the hem of her dress. Lord Carningsby's nose wrinkled in displeasure.

"Well, now – how about I ring for some tea?" suggested Helena, in an attempt to break the uncomfortable silence which followed.

Neither Lord Carningsby nor Miss Thorpe seemed particularly enthused by the suggestion; yet Helena determinedly persisted, crossing the room to pull the cord in the corner which attached to its respective bell in the kitchens below stairs. From Lord Carningsby's ill-disguised displeasure at Miss Thorpe's presence, it was clear that indeed he had intended to propose. Faced with the real prospect that, had Miss Thorpe not been here, Helena might have been accepting a proposal this very minute, the extent of her fear for the situation made itself fully known. In marrying Lord Carningsby, Helena would be committing herself to an entire lifetime with this man – was she truly ready for such a great decision?

By the time the tea tray arrived, Helena's mind was still awhirl with desperate thoughts of this nature. Concealing her distress from Lord Carningsby was no small task; it took all the strength Helena could muster to continue conversing politely with the baron, pretending as if nothing were amiss. Somehow, in Helena's mind, if only she could survive this meeting without Lord Carningsby noticing her apprehension – somehow, everything would be fine. If only she could get through this half an hour, there would be ample time to think through things later.

Miss Thorpe was helpfully filling in any gaps in the conversation by speaking very loudly and enthusiastically about her parents' home in Yorkshire. These descriptions of afternoons spent galloping across the moors on horseback – riding astride, no less – were accompanied by large, swooping motions of the arms, once or twice coming dangerously close to upsetting the tea tray. With each brazen word which came out of Miss Thorpe's mouth, the expression of horror on Lord Carningsby's face only intensified, Helena looking on anxiously as the situation unfolded before her.

"Do you play the pianoforte, Miss Thorpe?" inquired Helena during a brief lull in the conversation, hoping to steer things back to more familiar territory.

"Me? Oh, goodness me, no!" cried Miss Thorpe, with a loud guffaw that made Helena start. "No, I haven't the time or patience for such things! My m– that is to say – a friend of mine is a very accomplished player, and I have listened to her often."

"Lady Helena plays the pianoforte beautifully, and also sings," commented Lord Carningsby, with a pointed smile at Helena before returning to frowning at Miss Thorpe with open distaste.

Helena coloured a little at the snub against Miss Thorpe; but really, it was rather peculiar that she had not learnt to play at all. It made one wonder, really, what sort of masters had been employed for her tutoring at home in Yorkshire. Helena had received tutelage in art, music, dancing and languages; all essentials for a young lady as she came of marriageable age if she wished to be known as accomplished. Miss Thorpe's inaptitude, therefore, was most peculiar indeed.

"Would either of you care for some more tea?" asked Helena, attempting to conceal yet another awkward silence.

"Ah, not for me..."

"Yes please!" beamed Miss Thorpe, cutting off Lord Carningsby before he could finish his polite refusal. By his expression of utter disappointment as he sat back in his seat, Lord Carningsby had been hoping to take his leave – having now realised there would be no chance of getting Helena on her own this morning – but once again, Miss Thorpe had thwarted his plans.

"Shall I pour the tea?" offered Miss Thorpe, vibrant red curls bouncing as she shuffled to the front of the settee.

"No need to trouble yourself..." began Helena, who had just taken hold of the silver teapot – but it was too late.

Just as Helena began to pour, Miss Thorpe's hand was simultaneously shooting towards the teacup. In a moment of horror, Helena could only watch helplessly as Miss Thorpe's arm collided with Helena's, causing her to jerk violently, sending a stream of boiling hot tea into her lap.

"Ouch!" yelped Helena, dropping the teapot with a clatter as she leapt to her feet in pain.

"Lady Helena!" cried Lord Carningsby, scrambling up off his settee and dashing to her side. "Good God, are you alright? We must get you some medical attention!"

"Oh, Lady Helena! I am so terribly sorry!" whimpered Miss Thorpe, but Helena could barely concentrate on what anyone was saying, such was the severity of her pain.

"I am going up to my bedchamber," she announced, before Lord Carningsby or Miss Thorpe could interrupt, "and if one of you could be so kind as to call for Dorothy, and send her up to me, I would be most grateful."

"But Lady Helena, I could..."

"No, Miss Thorpe!" snapped Helena, surprised at the sharpness of her own tone. "I think you have done quite enough! Now, if you will excuse me, I shall take my leave."

Such was the authority in Helena's voice that neither the baron or Miss Thorpe dared question her. Both watched, slightly open mouthed, as Helena spun on her heel and swept out of the room – with as much dignity as one could muster, having just been scalded – face glowing red with a mixture of shame, pain, and fury.

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed this bonus weekend chapter! As always, please let me know your thoughts and vote if you liked it :) The next chapter will be up on Tuesday.