Free A Home for Helena (The Lady P Chronicles Book 2) by Susana Ellis

Pendleton. She pushed the covers back and pulled her legs around until she was in a sitting position.
    “That is—very kind of her. I am hungry enough to eat a horse.”
    Izzy’s eyes widened. “Ma’am, we don’t serve horse meat here. Her Ladyship would never allow it, being as fond of horses as she is.”
    Helena chuckled. “It’s just an expression, Izzy.”
    The maid lowered her eyes. “Yes, miss.” But it was clear that she didn’t get the point. Maybe because people did eat horse meat in Regency England?
    Izzy set the tray on a small table in front of a yellow-striped wingback chair. “Shall I pour the tea for you, miss?”
    “Yes, thank you, Izzy.”
    She studied Izzy’s thin figure as she fussed with the items on the tray. “Is Izzy your real name? Or is it Isabelle?”
    Izzy grinned. “No, ma’am. My baptismal name is Isolde. Cream or sugar?
    “Yes, please. Both.”
    Helena padded over to the chair and sat down to inspect her meal, which consisted of a plate of neatly-presented ham and cheese, rolls and butter, and a small dish of jam.
    “It looks lovely,” she said, as she broke one of the rolls to make a sandwich. “So… your mother was a reader. Do you have a brother called Tristan, then?”
    Izzy watched with interest as Helena placed the ham and cheese between the two pieces of buttered bread and lifted it to her mouth.
    “Yes, miss. He’s an under-gardener. My mum has been Her Ladyship’s housekeeper since before I was born. Mr. Peters, the butler, is my pa. Her Ladyship insists that all of her servants learn to read. Even lets us read books from her own library.”
    “How very generous of her.” Helena made a note to ask Lady Pendleton about this. She vaguely recalled that servants in this era tended to have only a rudimentary knowledge of their letters. Allowing them to make use of her own personal library seemed over the top.
    “She is the best mistress, no doubt. So kind-hearted and generous, with off-days for the staff and all. Picks up strays regularly, she does."
    Strays like Helena?
    "I've never met an American," Izzy continued. “People talk different, eat different, maybe even dress different.” She glanced at Helena’s night apparel, obviously recognizing it as belonging to her mistress. It's too bad your trunks were washed overboard in a storm."
    She leaned in closer and locked eyes with Helena. "Have you seen any red Indians there? Real ones?”
    “My dear, your tea is getting cold. Izzy, do fetch a fresh pot for our guest.”
    Izzy bobbed and scampered away as Lady Pendleton strolled into the room.
    "Good evening, Miss Lloyd. I hope you had a good doze, because there is so much to be done. I've spent some time planning out our strategy, and it will be a task of gigantic proportions to transform you into a socially-acceptable young lady."
    Helena's head snapped back. "Wh-a-at? I thought you were going to help me find my family, not introduce me to the ton."
    Lady Pendleton sighed. "Helena, my dear, surely you do not expect to appear in public without any knowledge of how to conduct yourself. Being American will excuse your speech, but even Americans are expected to conduct themselves in a civilized manner."
    She waved away Helena’s look of indignation. “Oh, I know Americans are not the savage boors many assume them to be. Some of my closest friends are Americans… from your century, in fact. I adore the freedom and spontaneity so prevalent in your time. Not to mention the food! I adore Big Macs, for example. But as much as I would like to introduce such a culinary oddity into my kitchens, I must concede that doing so would not enhance my reputation, or that of my household.”
    She pulled a chair over in front of Helena and sat down.
    “Finish your sandwich, do, before Peters returns.”
    “The first thing you must learn—particularly if you should decide to live here permanently—is that reputation is everything .”
    Helena spread butter and jam on the