The Davenports(48)

Helen stared at her brother. “Really?” she asked, barely containing her happiness. She threw her arms around him. It was the best news she’d heard in ages. “This is amazing!”

He placed the bags on the workbench. “It will be.”

She poked the dimple in his cheek. “Is this why you’ve been smiling and humming to yourself?”

He laughed and turned away.

“You’re blushing! Olivia thinks you fell in love.” She’d never seen her brother like this either.

Still smiling, John covered his hands with hers. “Listen, we do this together. I need you to focus. Preferably harder than you do on your etiquette lessons.”

“Ugh.” Helen frowned and looked in the direction of the house. Then she whipped around, narrowing her eyes at her brother. “Excuse me, I do work hard at them.” She sagged. “Sort of? It’s the absolute worst. Mrs. Milford watches me like a hawk.”

“And yet, you still escaped for an entire afternoon. Did you have Amy-Rose bury the evidence?”

“No.” She sighed. “She just helped me get cleaned up. Mostly. Mrs. Milford frowned at me all the rest of the day. We missed a patch behind my ear.”

John shook his head, a wistful smile on his face. “Covered from head to toe in mud.”

Helen laughed. Then clamped a hand over her mouth. “Stop—you’ll get me found out.” She sighed and thought back to the way Amy-Rose had looked at her as she climbed the stairs, her shoes squelching with each step. “My, you should have seen the carriage.”

In the moment, she had simply been grateful and swallowed every complaint she had about the embroidery she was tasked to complete before the end of the day. But now she thought it strange that only her friend was there when she’d arrived. Mrs. Milford was right where Helen had left her, waiting with her new assignment. Helen recalled her effort to stitch the family name within the embroidery hoop. Her D was so large, she had to reset the hoop twice. Now she was stuck with a very lopsided pillowcase.

She looked at her brother and cleared her throat, feigning a dignified expression. “Yes, well, the mud was the least unpleasant part of that day.”

“You’re lucky it wasn’t Mama who found you.” John tapped her on her nose. She swatted his hand away, though he was right. “Apply some of that ingenuity to the stuff Mama cares about, and maybe she’ll give you a little more leeway—you can use it to go through these with me,” he said, fanning the stack of papers before locking them in the file cabinet.

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed.

“Good.” He gave her the key.

Helen watched her brother unpack the tool bags, the dimple still showing. “John,” she said hesitantly. “Are you in love?”

He stopped and faced her. She saw a brightness that hadn’t been there when he came home from university. Helen wondered what it felt like. She imagined it to be like the relationship her parents shared even though she couldn’t imagine wanting to spend so much time with another person. Is there really that much to talk about? Still, John looked how she felt when she repaired an engine. “Well?” she prodded.

“I could be,” he said shyly.

She looked at her brother, practically bouncing with happiness. Olivia is right—he is in love. “Is it Ruby?”

John hesitated. “No, no more questions.”

Questions were all she had. Helen took a deep breath, ready to ask them anyway.

“Hello?”

Helen dipped behind the vehicle. The last thing she needed was someone to spot her here and report back to her mother—or her father. She pulled a cap over her head and used John’s leg as extra cover. Hopefully, she’d be mistaken for another mechanic.

“Mr. Lawrence,” John said. Despite her better judgment, Helen chanced a glance over the car. It was the young British bachelor. He looked out of place in his finely made suit among the discarded oil rags and partially dismantled automobile. His hair was parted to the side and brushed flat. He held his hat in one hand and shook John’s with the other.

John turned Mr. Lawrence toward the door and threw a look over his shoulder at Helen that seemed to say Stay there. “I lost track of time. I’ll meet you at the car.” She listened as they left. Every muscle tingled as she eased herself onto her knees. Helen chastised herself for being so careless. She shuddered at the thought of anyone else walking in. Both she and John would have been in enormous trouble. Bitterness at the unfairness of it all threatened to ruin her good mood, but how could she be disappointed? John sought her help and she aimed to be prepared for whatever argument their father might throw at them.

Helen stood. She stretched her arms over her head and immediately saw something that didn’t belong.

The hat Mr. Lawrence held moments ago. She stared at it, wondering if she should bring it out to him.

“So it was you hiding?” said a smiling voice.

Helen jumped. Her fingers were inches from the hat. She folded her arms over her chest and gave Jacob Lawrence a wide berth as he reached for it.

“No, I was working.” She gestured to the tools and rags across the workbench that hugged the back wall. The new bags of tools brought in by John replaced the clutter she’d removed. When she turned back to Mr. Lawrence, he was looking at her, a bemused expression on his face.