“No. They were friendly enough at first, but she married at my parents’ behest, for the title and he married for her dowry.”
Helen didn’t know what to make of that. Why was he so reticent to discuss his late wife if he hadn’t even loved her?
“Are you sure that they didn’t care for one another?”
“I’m sure. When she…”
“What?” Helen was the one to stop now and Jane bit her lip, seemingly indecisive, before answering.
“She was having a relationship with someone other than Alex,” Jane finally admitted. “Had conceived his child, in fact.”
“Who?” Helen demanded. Now that she was finally getting some information, she was eager for more.
“That I don’t know. Emma repeatedly denied it to me.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Let’s just say, she was discovered in some compromising situations. It was the doctor who discovered her delicate condition, after her death. He said she was a little less than three months along.”
She couldn’t imagine how terrible Emma must have felt. Helen was in a loveless marriage and so far she didn’t mind, but if she were in love with someone else, she wasn’t sure that she could bear it. Emma’s betrayal of her husband, in love or not, must have pained her.
“She was killed, you know.” Jane said conversationally.
“Killed!” Helen’s thoughts were a whirlwind. Emma had been murdered! Had she known her killer? Had she seen it coming? Helen certainly hoped not.
“Yes. Her fall wasn’t a fall at all. I don’t know how he could tell but the doctor said that she had been killed before she was pushed down the stairs.”
“But I thought her death was deemed to be an accident?”
“That’s what the inquest said, but the aristocracy look after their own.”
“Who killed her?”
Jane turned her head to look at her and raised a questioning eyebrow.
“You don’t think Alex…?” Helen couldn’t bring herself to say it.
“I cannot say with any certainty who it was but murder is a crime of passion, and I pride myself on knowing a lot about passion. Only two people had a motive to want her dead and enough emotion to follow through; the husband whose wife is pregnant with another man’s child, or the lover, who perhaps wants her all to himself.”
Helen honestly couldn’t believe that Alex was a killer. Yes, he was irritable and bad tempered at times, but he just didn’t seem like a killer. Could she possibly feel attracted to a murderer? Wouldn’t she be able to sense that there was something wrong with such a man?
But she had known, she realised. She had known there was more to his wife’s death than he was willing to tell her. She knew that something was very wrong in that house. She knew that someone had been through her possessions.
“How can you eat dinner with him each night, wondering if he killed your sister?” Helen asked.
“Because I want to know,” Jane answered as if it was the most logical response in the world. “I have shared Alex’s home for five years now; I saw him with my sister and I have seen him after her death. I don’t believe he is a killer but I also don’t know who my sister was seeing, and so I can’t judge her lover’s character. Until I know, I feel trapped there, even although I know that I'm waiting for answers that may never come.”
They rounded the final corner and were heading back towards the dress shop, both absorbed in their own thoughts. They paused outside the shop and Jane turned to Helen.
“Thank you for listening, Helen. Mama doesn’t like to discuss Emma, it’s too painful for her, and almost everyone else in that house seems afraid to talk about her.”
“You can talk to me any time,” Helen assured her. “And I'm very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.”
They entered the shop and found Anna finalising her choices. Rose was seated by the desk chatting to Milton, who was lounging against the counter as they waited for Anna. From her body language, Milton seemed to be teasing her terribly.
“Did you have a nice walk?” Rose asked, blushing as she greeted them, as if she had been caught doing something that she shouldn’t.
“Very,” Jane answered with a bright smile.
“Where’s Clarence?” Helen asked, for he had promised faithfully that he wouldn’t let Rose out of his sight.”
“He just went to the florist,” Rose answered.
“I hardly think Rose is in any danger here,” Milton said, gesturing around the shop, in which he was the only man among six women.
“No,” Helen smiled, although she wasn’t sure why she also felt uncomfortable.
“And you, my dear, did you enjoy the walk?” Milton asked.
Helen very firmly pushed all thoughts of Emma and her murder to the back of her mind for the moment; she could ponder what she had learned later. She smiled at Milton.
“Very much so. Crowham seems a lovely town. And it is lovely to see the sun again.”
“Then you shall have to explore the town some more. Perhaps we could arrange another outing soon.”
“Thank you but I’m still settling in and wouldn’t want to make a promise that I cannot keep.”
“Of course.”
Anna joined them and they left the shop, Milton offering Helen his elbow which she felt unable to refuse, and he helped her up into the carriage before assisting the other ladies. He looked up and down the street before climbing in after them and seconds later, an out of breath Clarence arrived.
“I do hope I haven’t kept you ladies waiting?” he said as he climbed in.
“Not at all,” Helen assured him. “We’ve hardly been here thirty seconds.”
“Good,” he grinned, then as the carriage began to move, he unwrapped the paper cone he was carrying and handed each lady a single flower.
Every young lady of a certain rank understood the language of flowers and his choices interested Helen. To his sister Rose, he gave a lily, for purity.
To Jane he gave a water-lily, meaning he felt she was pure of heart and to Jane’s mother, Anne, he handed a marigold, for sorrow.
To Helen he gave a daisy, which she knew meant innocence. Did he know that she hadn’t slept with her husband and was still an ‘innocent’? Had Alex confided in him? Deciding that discretion was probably the better part of valour, she accepted the bloom, brought it to her nose to inhale the scent and thanked him.
The flowers could mean nothing, of course, they might just have been pretty blooms but somehow, Helen doubted that.
She relaxed a little when it occurred to her that in a house of secrets, Helen essentially was the innocent. Besides, she didn’t know Clarence very well but he seemed like such a thoughtful man, that she couldn’t imagine him wanting to make her uncomfortable, even if he did know the truth about her marriage.
Chapter Seven
Back at Howard House, Helen found Joe and Jules in the library with their father. Alex was reading to Jules, who was seated next to him, his father’s arm around his shoulders while Joe, sitting as far away as he could from his father without making it obvious, sat alone reading his own book.
Helen paused and observed them for a few moments before they noticed her and despite Joe’s apparent apathy for his brother and father, his eyes kept drifting over to them, as if he wanted to be included but didn’t know how to ask.
As she watched Alex with his youngest son, she just couldn’t imagine him a killer. She agreed with Jane that passion was a likely motive for murder but while he might have been wronged, Alex just didn’t seem to have that kind of rage in him.
Feeling a little as though she were spying, Helen walked into the room and everyone turned to look at her as she approached the seating by the fire. Despite the sun today, it was still cool and since this room was particularly large, a sizable fire burned in the hearth, casting its warm amber glow over the three and making Alex look especially attractive in the flickering light.
“Mummy Helen!” Jules cried.
“Did you get me the sub-tiles?”
“The subtleties, and yes I did.” She took a seat on the sofa opposite Alex. “I hope you don’t mind; I offered to get the boys some sweets while I was in town.”
“Of course not,” he smiled.
Helen placed the box of marzipan subtleties on the table, along with the bag of sugared almonds.
Jules reached for the box, looking as if he might rip it open, then he stopped and looked to Helen. “Thank you, Mummy Helen.” He turned to his father. “Can I have one, Daddy?”
Alex smiled indulgently. “You can have one before lunch, then two before dinner.”
“Thank you!”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get horses,” Helen explained as he opened the box. Instead she had got a collection of dogs, each moulded to look as if they were curled up, perhaps in front of a fire.
“That’s all right, I like dogs too,” Jules said.
Considering the time and effort that had gone into crafting the treat into its shape, then painting it with colouring, Jules wasted no time in biting the black and off-white Collie’s head off, which amused Helen.
The sugared almonds remained where Helen had placed them and Joe pretended to remain engrossed in his book.
“Could I have one?” Alex asked his youngest son. Jules looked as if he wanted to refuse but finally good manners won out. He handed the box to his father, who took his time and chose a Labrador retriever, which he wrapped in a handkerchief and placed on the arm of the green leather sofa.
Helen saw his eyes wander to Joe and thinking that he was about to admonish the boy, she quickly spoke before he could.
“I also got some other treats for our picnic tomorrow,” Helen smiled.
“What did you get?” Jules demanded.
“It’s a surprise,” she grinned.
“Did you bring anything for me?” Alex asked, his rich voice full of warmth and something else, something that made Helen wonder if he was flirting with her.
“Well that depends. How do you feel about macaroons?”
“They are a favourite of mine,” he assured her with a warm smile.
“Then you, Your Grace, are in luck,” she answered with a coy smile. She was surprised to realise she was flirting with him. She had never even tried to flirt before and she began to feel uncomfortable. “And now I must go and freshen up before lunch, or it will be time for dinner by the time we sit down.”
“I’ll join you,” Alex said, setting the ribbon between the pages he had been reading earlier and closing the book.
“You didn’t eat with your mother earlier?”
“I thought I would wait for you,” he said, then turned to his youngest son. “We will resume The Little Collier of the Black Forest tomorrow,” he assured Jules. Although he looked disappointed, the boy accepted that with a nod, and popped the final bite of the almond paste Collie dog into his mouth, chewing with relish.
“Why did you stop me from chastising Joe?” Alex asked when they were a safe distance from the library doors.
“You can make him be polite but you can’t force the boy to like me, and nor should you,” she explained. “As he sees it, I am trying to replace his mother and since he loved her, that makes me the enemy. Forcing him to accept me will only make him even more resentful.”
When they reached their rooms, Helen left the door open behind her and he followed her in.
Alex sighed. “The boy has been a terror ever since she died,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “He has learned to be more polite and less aggressive recently but it’s clear that he resents me. He rebels in small ways now, being late, being rude to people, but I'm not sure if that’s any better.”
As she took one of the seats before the fire, Helen had an awful thought; what if Joseph believed that his father had killed his mother? He would have been kept ignorant of the details of her death, but children had a way of overhearing things that they shouldn’t. Could that be why he was rebelling?
“Give him time, Alex, he will come around, I'm sure.”
Alex took the seat beside her and rested his head against the back of the chair. He looked bone weary and Helen was loathe to interrupt his interlude with questions.
“So, am I invited on this outing with my sons tomorrow?” His eyes remained closed but he was smiling.
“Of course. I have no plans to do anything shocking with them.”
His smile faded and he turned to look at her. “I wasn’t questioning your judgement, I… well, I find your presence relaxing; I enjoy being in your company.”
Helen couldn’t remember the last time that anyone had said something so kind to her and she blushed, which she knew made her hair look even more orange than usual. She wanted to appear pretty to him, which caused her cheeks to flame even darker.
“I’ve embarrassed you,” he said, sounding upset. “I’m sorry-”
“No, I- I liked it. I enjoy your company too but you hardly know me, so I assumed you didn’t trust me with your children.”
“I think I’ve seen enough of your character to know that you can be trusted,” he told her, his warm smile returning but Helen bowed her head, wondering if this would be a good time to bring up something else that had been on her mind. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
“I, uh… well, there are some, um, details of this marriage that we have yet to discuss.” She glanced up at him through her lashes and saw that his smile was fading.
“Of course,” he nodded. “I assume you arranged for this morning’s bill to be sent to me but you will need pin money, of course. And I'm happy to repay you for the expense of the treats you bought the boys and any other expenses you incurred this morning. Assuming that I continue to pay directly for your clothes, which I do for the other ladies here as well, so you are not being singled out, how would 200 pounds a year suit you for your personal purchases?”
“Alex, that is far too much, I could never spend it all in five years! And besides, I was thinking of something else entirely. Rose handled the arrangements for the bill this morning but I was careful not to spend too much, and I would never expect to be reimbursed for a present I bought, no matter who it’s for.”
“I’m sorry, that was presumptuous of me.” He looked relieved. “What did you want to discuss?”
She blushed again and bowed her head. “It’s not important.” She got up from her seat and fetched the bag of macaroons she had bought this morning, opening them as she returned. “I believe I promised to share these with you.” She held the bag out towards him, refusing to meet his gaze.
Alex took the bag from her and put it aside, taking hold of her hand in his and gently rubbing his thumb over the back.
“Please. I’ve offended you and that wasn’t my intention, but it is something that I have been thinking about and I made assumptions. Forgive me?”
“Of course.” She still wouldn’t meet his eyes but now it wasn’t so much embarrassment, as that the sensation of her hand cradled in his and the gentle motion of his thumb, was exciting her. Her heart was pounding and her skin felt flushed, not to mention that the delicious feeling in the bottom of her stomach had returned.
“So will you tell me what you were going to ask?” He dipped his head lower in an attempt to catch her eye, but she simply looked to the fireplace instead. “Please?”
Helen had the distinct impression that Alex didn’t beg and the fact that he was pleading with her was unusual. Besides, she wasn’t some wilting wallflower, although his presence often made her feel like one. She mustered her courage, took a deep breath and finally met his gaze. The intensity of his stare made her breathless, so she physically couldn’t answer him for a moment.
“I… I was going to ask about marital relations,” she admitted and although she felt as if she wanted to run and hide, she forced herself to remain still.
“I said that I wouldn't pressure you and I meant that.”
Helen nodded and swallowed; the gentle moveme
nt of his thumb over the back of her hand was still making it difficult to think. “Yes but, I think I am ready.”
Although he didn’t move, the look in his eyes became hungry and for a moment, she felt a shiver of fear, worried that her wish was about to be fulfilled. In the next instant however, he had pulled her onto his lap and his lips had claimed hers in a passionate kiss, and any fears she might have had were forgotten.
The feelings he had ignited in her to date paled in comparison to how she felt as he kissed her; as if her whole body thrummed with need and she couldn’t help crying out as he parted her lips and deepened the kiss. Her cry was muffled but she felt him answer with a groan and his hands, which had been on her waist, holding her on his lap, began to wander up her back and over her hips. Her hands went to his dark hair and she undid the strap that held it back, then ran her fingers through it, something that she had longed to do, almost since the moment she met him.
Time seemed to lose all meaning as she lost herself in the pleasure he was giving her, until there came a gentle tap on the door. Reluctantly they ended the kiss and sat there panting for a few moments, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to regain a little equilibrium.
The knock sounded again, a touch more forceful this time.
“Ma’am?” came the hesitant tones of Bessie.
“Just a moment,” Helen managed to call out. She took a few more deep breaths and got off his lap, smoothing her skirts as she tried to regain her composure. When sufficiently recovered, she opened the door to Bessie.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but they sent me to check on you. They were worried when you didn’t turn up for lunch.”
“They?” Alex queried, coming up behind his wife and placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Mr Cavendish, Your Grace. He said you must be hungry and something must be wrong for you to be so late.”
“They aren’t holding lunch up for us, are they?” Helen worried.
“Oh no, Ma’am, it’s just a cold lunch.”
“Bessie,” Alex took charge. “Please thank them for their concern and tell them that we will be down shortly.”
Bessie bobbed a curtsey and left.
Love, Lies and Murder Page 7
