Helen set the sheaf of papers down on the tea table. She looked up at Margaret with a bright smile and a blush of pleasure.
"Oh Maggie its wonderful!" Helen said, beaming.
Margaret blushed at the compliment but Helen gave no opportunity for her to be modest.
"Really cousin it is marvelous! How handsome and kind you make him sound. Oh- I wish I could find a perfect gentleman the way that you've described!"
Margaret opened her mouth in a mock gesture of surprise. "Oh please Helen, I am sure Mr. Powel is simply wonderful." She smiled pleasantly at her cousin.
She knew that the gentleman in her writing was in fact, very different from her cousin's betrothed. That was the point of the article after all. She had set out to carve an impeccable and well-mannered statue of a man with her words. A man that Edith Thornton would be unable to find fault in, and one that Kitty Price wouldn't dare compare to a woman. This man was the antithesis of a city gentleman like Mr. Powel. That is how Margaret had intended it, and she was pleased that she'd been successful.
"Oh do stop," Helen retorted with a frown on her pretty plump features. "I'd give anything to attract the gaze of a handsome and well educated gentleman. Mr. Powel has the looks and countenance of a broomstick!" Helen picked up the papers again and held them up in demonstration. "But this man-" she fanned herself with the papers in an exaggerated state of woo. "This man who would read poetry, play the piano and waltz like a dream. This man who is always smiling and with nothing but pretty words to say. This man who is strong and decisive, leaving no room for worry..." She let the list trail off and gave Margaret a knowing look. "Oh I quite like this man," she finished.
Margaret smiled back at the beaming twenty year old, struck with curiosity about why Helen had accepted Mr. Powel. She leaned toward her cousin and stilled the hand that Helen was fanning with.
"Helen," she began unsteadily, not knowing how to continue. "Do you not love Mr. Powel?"
Helen met her cousin's gaze with a practiced attempt at indifference. "He is a good man, and he will be kind to me," Helen replied with an equally practiced answer.
"That was good enough for me."
Aunt Winnie's voice surprised the two in the drawing room, and they turned their heads to see the older woman standing in the doorway. For how long, Margaret didn't know. She dropped Helen's hand and sat back in her chair.
"And it is for me too, Mama." Helen smiled at her mother and Aunt Winnie chose a seat near her daughter.
Aunt Winnie sat facing Helen and smiled warmly in return. "It doesn't have to be darling. You needn't marry him. There will be others I am sure-"
"-Oh please mother," Helen cut her off. "Mr. Powel is the only man who has ever even looked at me. There are no others. He will be enough." She smiled with determination and then sought to break the awkward tension. "Unless of course you know of a gentleman who fits this description?" She held up the article to Margaret with a giggle.
"Sadly, I do not," Margaret replied, matching her cousin's teasing. "It is a long list of qualities, and seldom found here in the city. But If I do find one..." She paused for effect and looked at her cousin and Aunt with mischief.
"...I'll keep him to myself!" She finished and all three ladies dissolved into laughter.
That evening Margaret resolved to learn more about Helen's decision to marry Mr. Powel. It didn't sit right with her that her beloved cousin might marry someone that she would be unhappy with. She was certain that the Watson family was wealthy enough that Helen did not need to wed into a match for financial reasons, and with Helen being so young she knew it wasn't the threat of spinsterhood that pushed Her toward Mr. Powel.
Just before dinner Jude and Mr. Carter arrived at Watson Manse. Margaret met them at the door and whisked Jude away for a discreet discussion in the pantry.
"I'm concerned for Helen."
She skipped any preamble. Jude looked alarmed but waited for her to continue.
"Why does she feel she must marry Mr. Powel?"
With that Jude rolled her eyes and sighed.
"Oh Maggie I wish I knew. She's been after a husband ever since I met Mathew. In fact, it was the day after Mathew first asked me to read with him that Helen noticed Mr. Powel."
"Do you think he loves her?" Margaret knew that it really wasn't her place to question her cousin's decisions. She felt compelled, however, to find out what exactly was taking place. She loved her cousins and wanted them to be happy. However, perhaps even more reason than that, Margaret felt like her own life was out of her control. Perhaps she could at least be of good influence to Helen.
"Oh I don't know," Jude sighed again, resigned. "I think – maybe? He's been married once before. Lost his wife to the fire in '41. I think –"
Jude hesitated, clearly unsure if she should finish her thought. Margaret nodded encouragingly. Jude lowered her voice further.
"I think maybe he's just lonely. Not the sort of lonely that desires a wife, but the kind that would normally be filled with a horse, or a puppy."
The last bit made Margaret cough with suppressed laughter.
"You can't think that he only wants her to adorn his stables with her!"
"You know my meaning!" Jude snapped back, still whispering and clearly not seeing the humor. "He wants her for dressing up, to show off, and to run his house. I don't think he can offer her anything beyond that. Although I am sure he will be kind to her."
"Right. So that's why he wants her. But why does she want him?" Margaret prodded.
"I've already said. I wish I knew! Come, we'll be missed." With that, Jude reached for Margaret's hand and led her out of the pantry, ending the discussion.
Dinner was uneventful. Mr. Powel was unable to attend, so only Aunt Winnie, Margaret, Helen, Jude and Mr. Carter, the later of which insisted that Margaret call him Mathew, surrounded the table. Margaret tried to glean more information about Helen's engagement by asking about how she'd met Mr. Powel, but the response was not as intended.
"It was nothing very special. You should ask about Jude and Mathew." Helen replied, not looking up from her plate.
"Oh it was the most fateful afternoon!" Without hesitation Jude began telling the tale of her first meeting with Mathew. "Mathew had known Helen from the Library where they were both in a riddle group together -"
"Helen was always the most clever of the group. Put the rest of us to shame with her riddles," Mathew put in with a smile at Helen.
"-Oh yes Helen used to love the group. Uh- why don't you go anymore Helen?" Jude paused in her tale to wait for Helen's reply.
"I sort of grew out of it," Helen answered. "I guess I was just too clever for it." She looked to Mathew who nodded emphatically.
"No doubt!" Mathew confirmed, and then looked at Jude. "In any case, one afternoon Helen had her arms weighted with heavy books and I offered to assist her in carrying them home." He pantomimed carrying heavy books in front of him, holding his imaginary stack over his dinner plate. "And when we arrived I followed Helen inside. It was then that I was greeted by the most beautiful angel I'd ever seen." He reached his hand to Jude, who gave hers without hesitation. "That I'd ever even dared hope to see."
"From then on Mathew and Jude were practically inseparable," Aunt Winnie chimed in, smiling with memory. "They were married only 8 months later."
"It will be a year in October." Jude's face beamed with love and happiness as she looked at her husband.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't able to attend." Margaret tried to hide the wince from her face as she thought about how her Father simply forgot to share the invitation from Aunt Winnie. Jude's wedding came and went without her even knowing.
"But I'll be certain to attend your wedding Helen." Margaret watched Helen's face. She looked pleasant enough but it seemed to Margaret that there was something stiff about the way she smiled.
"I can't wait." Helen met Margaret's gaze with a look that belied her lack of excitement. "I'm feeling a little ill just this moment. Please forgive me."
Margaret and the others shared looks of confusion as Helen stood up abruptly and went to her room. Margaret felt a swell of guilt well up as she realized the scrutiny she'd subjected Helen to. She made an inward promise to talk with Helen about it when she was well again.