Love, Lies and Murder

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Love, Lies and Murder Page 21

by Catherine Winchester


  “Emma wouldn’t have wanted you to feel this way, Jane, she wanted everyone to be happy.”

  “I know she did,” Jane sighed. “But I can’t help the way I feel.”

  “I understand. I only hope that once we discover who did kill her and get justice for her, that you might gain a little peace of mind.”

  “I’m not sure there can be any justice for such a crime. Justice would be trading his life for hers, but his death won’t bring her back, will it?”

  “Sadly, no.”

  “Are you really sad about that though?” she asked pointedly. “You and Helen seem very happy together.”

  Alex realised that if she felt disloyal to Emma by liking Helen, it wouldn’t be untoward of her to attribute her own feelings of disloyalty to him, so he wasn’t angry as he answered her.

  “We are happy and I won’t apologise for that, but I hope you know that I would never want happiness at the expense of someone else, and Emma’s death is still being felt, not least by the boys. How can you think that I would want their suffering?”

  “You’re right, I'm sorry.” She bowed her head. “The truth is, I am happy for you, I just feel so many things at the moment…”

  “It’s a confusing time…” he wondered how to bring up what Helen had told him yesterday. “You, uh, wouldn't consider doing anything, well-”

  “Helen told you,” she deduced, and gave him a sad smile. “I was just feeling maudlin, but we both know that I'm far too self-absorbed to ever seriously consider hurting myself.”

  “Now I know that’s not true, although it is what you like people to believe. If you feel that sad again, will you come to me?”

  “Oh Alex, you needn’t worry about me. I’m fine. Keeping Helen safe must take precedence at the moment and my emotions, not to mention justice for Emma, can both wait.”

  “I love Helen, Jane, but you are important to me too.”

  “I know, and I thank you but honestly, I am fine.”

  “Emma isn’t completely gone,” Alex tried to cheer her. “She lives on in Joe and Jules. Don’t you ever see her in them?”

  Jane smiled slightly. “They both have her eyes, and Jules’ smile is the spitting image of hers but it was Joe who used to remind me most of her. Ever since she died though, he seems to have lost whatever it was that reminded me of her.”

  “He’s a troubled boy,” Alex admitted. “I only wish I knew how to help him.”

  “He seems rather taken with Helen.”

  They both looked over to Joe now, to see that he was still by Helen’s side, although he didn’t look at all happy, rather his expression was one of grim determination. Jules on the other hand, was holding her hand and looking as pleased as punch.

  “I’m not so sure, from what Helen tells me.” He also didn’t know why his son seemed unwilling to leave Helen’s side this morning, especially since he didn’t seem to be enjoying her company. Unfortunately, Joe’s hostility towards him meant that even if he asked, his son probably wouldn’t tell him the truth.

  He could understand Joe being angry with him for failing to protect his mother, he just didn’t know how to go about gaining back his affection.

  “I’m right, you’ll see,” Jane assured him.

  “Time will tell.” He hoped that she was right. He also hoped that they had enough time.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  The next few days seemed to drag by, as Helen waited for something to happen.

  She and Alex had a picnic with the boys again once they returned from church, although they ate in the hunting lodge thanks to the bad weather, and both boys had prepared a poem about their favourite season. Jules’ was rather simple but all the more beautiful for that. Joe’s poem was about both winter and spring, how the death that winter brings is defeated by the new life in the spring.

  It was a lot more hopeful than Helen had expected but she daren’t say anything about that, lest she frighten the boy. Her own hope was that he was healing from the loss of his mother, although she knew that it was a long process and would take time.

  She remained in the house over the next few days and oddly, Joe seemed to take any chance to escape from his governess and nanny to seek her out. He never said why but Helen began to spend more time in the schoolroom with them, fearful that perhaps he was being mistreated. She saw no signs of it; his governess was firm but not unkind, then again, she would be on her best behaviour while the mistress of the house was about.

  Almost everywhere she went, Alex shadowed her or asked her to accompany him. He did his best not to crowd her, simply to be close should he be needed but spending so much time together, not to mention the ever present threat of being harmed, served to make Helen a little short tempered with her husband at times, and vice versa.

  He did agree to leave her alone as she played chess with Joe but that was just about the only time, and she had a feeling even then that Alex wasn’t far away.

  Joe’s subject that day had been secrets.

  “Helen, is keeping a secret always bad?”

  “Well, compared to telling a lie, I can think of a lot more instances where keeping a secret is good.”

  “When?” he asked, taking one of her pawns with his bishop.

  “With presents for example. It wouldn’t be much fun on your birthday if you already knew everything you were getting, would it?”

  “When else is it all right?” he asked.

  “Well… I suppose if you know something that could hurt someone else, keeping what you know to yourself might not be a bad thing.”

  “What kind of something?”

  Helen wondered how to explain about extramarital affairs to a seven year old boy.

  “Some people… well they do bad things sometimes. Perhaps they don’t mean to and if someone they cared about discovered what they had done, it might hurt them a lot.”

  “What kind of bad things?”

  “Just… things.”

  “But what kind of things?” For once, he looked into her eyes and Helen wondered what all these quasi-philosophical questions were about. Why did Joe want to know if lying and secrets were bad?

  “I don’t know, Joe,” she gave up on explaining adultery to the boy. “But a bad kind of secret to keep would be one that could potentially do harm to someone who didn’t know it.”

  “I don’t understand?” he frowned.

  “Well, say that you knew that someone was going to rob a shop, which would harm the shopkeeper and his family, then keeping that secret would be bad.”

  “Always?”

  “I think so, yes.”

  Joe looked back to the board.

  “What if you gave your word that you wouldn’t tell a secret, could you tell it then?”

  Helen tried not to be unnerved by his questions, but she had a feeling that she was being tested although for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out how to pass or fail.

  “I suppose you would have to decide what was more important to you, losing the friendship of the person whose secret you tell, or the need of the person who doesn’t know the secret, to hear it.”

  “But if someone can be hurt if you tell a secret, you shouldn’t tell it, right?”

  “Probably, but without knowing what kind of secret you’re talking about, and who might be hurt by it and how, then I can’t really give you a valid answer. I think you would need to look to your conscience to decide.”

  Joe was silent for a long time then as they played and it seemed that his attention wasn’t wholly on the game, as Helen beat him quite easily today.

  As she began clearing the pieces away, she asked, “Is there something troubling you, Joe? Something you’d like to talk about?”

  “No.” Joe shook his head and stood up. “I have to get back to the schoolroom now. Thank you for the game.”

  Helen watched his back as he went, wondering why such a young boy often seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  As expected, Alex came
in not a minute later, doing his best to make it seem as if he had just happened upon her.

  “Have you finished?” he asked.

  Helen rolled her eyes at the idiotic question, thinking that putting the playing pieces away should be a clear indication that the game had in fact, ended.

  ***

  Each night, Alex locked them into either his or her room while they slept, so they were able to relax for a few hours, secure in the knowledge that no one could harm her.

  By the Thursday however, Helen was going a little crazy from her confinement. Normally she could lose herself in a good book but she just didn’t have the concentration for that at the moment. Before they rose on Thursday morning, she asked Alex if they might venture into town that day. Since the plans weren’t made in advance and he would be with her, Alex could see no reason to deny her request.

  Besides, it would probably do them both good to get away from the oppressive atmosphere in the house. They didn’t tell anyone of their plans until the carriage had been readied, then he informed the family that he and Helen were going out for the day and they left.

  Helen began to feel some external pressure lift as they travelled down the driveway and by the time they alighted from the carriage in town, she felt happier than she had since she had come to the estate. They looked around the town, exploring the shops and Helen acted rather like a child on Christmas morning, enjoying all the sights and sounds that Crowham had to offer.

  They stopped into the confectioners again and purchased some more sweets, then they had lunch in the White Hart Inn, one of the nicer establishments in town then, despite the overcast sky, they decided to chance a walk in the park.

  The brilliant autumnal colours were starting to fade now as more and more leaves fell but they enjoyed the walk, until the heavens opened. Stunned at the intensity of the rain for a moment, they stared at each other, until Helen began laughing and they both ran back towards their carriage.

  They were thoroughly soaked and winded by the time they climbed inside, but still in good spirits on the ride home and laughing as they entered the house.

  Mr Graves was there to receive them and a hint of a smile appeared on his lips as he enjoyed their mirth.

  “Mr Milton Russell has returned, Your Graces,” he informed them, taking Alex’s coat and Helen’s pelisse.

  Their smiles faded.

  “He didn’t send word, did he?” Alex asked.

  “Not as far as I know, Sir. If you wish to speak to him, he’s in the yellow parlour, with Lady Cavendish.”

  “Thank you, Graves.”

  Helen slipped her hand into Alex’s and they went to ‘welcome’ their guest back. They opened the door on an odd scene and stopped, momentarily nonplussed. Rose stood with her head bowed looking mightily uncomfortable, while Milton stood far too close for comfort, speaking to her in hushed whispers.

  “Is something wrong?” Alex asked, interrupting them.

  Milton stepped away from Rose looking surprised but he quickly found a warm smile. “Nothing at all,” he assured them, approaching Helen and kissing her cheek. “So good to see you again, my dear.”

  “And you,” Helen answered, only because that was the expected response.

  “I didn’t think it possible for you to be more fetching, but this bedraggled look does have a certain appeal.”

  Helen blushed, realising that she must look a complete mess after their run through the rain.

  “Did you get your problems sorted?” Alex diverted the conversation as soon as he saw that Helen appeared to be self-conscious.

  “Problems?” he asked, then recognition dawned on his features. “Oh, yes, all sorted.”

  “Nothing serious, I hope?”

  “Oh no, just the usual things, you know.”

  Alex didn’t know and was about to say as much, when Helen tugged on his hand. “We really should change out of these wet things.”

  “Yes, of course.” Alex looked over to Rose. “Are you all right, Rose? No problems while we were out?” he almost hoped that she would give him a reason to throw Milton out of the house, but she didn’t.

  Instead, Rose shook her head. “No, no problems, Alex. If you’ll excuse me.”

  She left, without looking at Milton again, and Alex turned to Milton. “I suppose you’ll be joining us for dinner this evening?” He made small talk in order to give Rose a chance to escape.

  “Oh, yes. Of course.”

  “Well, it’s good to have you back.” Helen and Alex left and Alex was pleased to note that there was no sign of where Rose might have gone. They headed to their rooms to dry off and change.

  ***

  Before he changed for dinner that evening, Alex went to see Rose and knocked on her door. Her lady’s maid answered and showed him into the dressing room, then left at Alex’s request.

  Rose was sitting at her dressing table with her hair only half-done; with only the front pinned up and the rest spilling down her back, she looked a lot like she did as a girl, before their mother had worn her spirit down.

  “I just wanted to check that you were all right,” Alex said once they were alone.

  “Why wouldn't I be?” She half turned so that she was facing him.

  “When you were talking to Milton earlier, you seemed very… uncomfortable.”

  “Did I?”

  “You did.”

  “I’m fine, Alex, honestly.” She smiled at him.

  “Are you sure? He has been acting rather oddly in recent months.”

  “Has he?”

  “Don’t do that, Rose, not with me. I won’t scold you for venturing an opinion.” He moved a chair from by the wall so that he could sit nearer to her.

  “I know.” She blushed and looked down to her hands, which were folded in her lap. “Please don’t be too hard on him, Alex, I… well sometimes I get the impression that he has been disappointed in matters of love.”

  “Disappointed?” Alex repeated. “I didn’t even know he was pursuing anyone.”

  “Well I'm not certain, that’s just the feeling I get from him.”

  “Isn’t it odd that he would keep such a thing to himself?”

  Rose shrugged her shoulders. “I honestly don’t know, Alex. I like Milton but… well, it’s just an opinion.”

  Alex couldn’t stop the awful thought that Milton’s sister, Emma might have been the one to disappoint him. He didn’t believe that Emma would ever have even considered entering into an incestuous relationship but that didn’t mean that Milton didn’t want one.

  “You look upset,” Rose told him.

  Alex gave a long sigh. “I’m not upset,” he assured her. “The truth is, I don’t know what I am. There’s so much going on, sometimes it’s hard to take it all in.”

  “Change can be hard to accept,” she tried to sympathise. “But Helen seems like a lovely woman and very capable of running a house, and you have been looking forward to inheriting the estate for years. Try not to let your troubles stop you from enjoying these things.”

  Alex had been thinking of someone wanting Helen dead and finding out who had killed his first wife, but Rose didn’t need to be troubled with such thoughts. He reached out and took her hand.

  “You aren’t upset that I asked Mother to move to the Dower House?”

  “No, Alex. She is upset but I feel only relief.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t stop her sooner.”

  Rose smiled. “You have had your own problems to contend with, and the behaviour of our mother is hardly your fault.”

  “Perhaps not, but I am very much hoping that the sister I used to know and love will return. Your smile could light up a room, you know, and I miss your playing after dinner.”

  “I still play,” she confessed in a small voice, her cheeks turning red.

  “You do?”

  Rose nodded. “There is a pianoforte in the music room in the south wing and since no one ever goes there, sometimes I play it. Quietly, of course.”

&nbs
p; Alex smiled, pleased that his sister had found ways to defy their mother. “Then I hope that one day soon, you will honour us with a rendition after dinner.”

  “You aren’t angry that I went into the south wing?”

  “No,” he smiled warmly at her. “To be honest, I'm no longer even sure why I blocked it off.”

  He'd had some vague hope that it would preserve evidence of who had killed Emma, should he ever need it, but he had looked so often in the beginning that he knew there was nothing new to be found. He never had found an incriminating cuff link or dropped handkerchief. Besides, given that one of his handkerchiefs had been found over the stables, he was no longer sure that he could trust such evidence even if he did discover it.

  “I won’t open the wing up again just yet, to give you a chance to practice in private but as soon as you have your confidence back, I think we should open the whole thing up and air it out.”

  “There are some lovely rooms in that part of the house,” Rose agreed.

  Alex smiled warmly and as he got up, leaned forward to kiss her cheek and gave her hand a squeeze before he let go.

  “I’ll see you at dinner.” He made to leave but turned back at the door. “I almost forgot to tell you, we’ll be doing a London Season again next year.”

  “Really?” Rose looked surprised.

  “Yes, it seems that Helen’s half-sister is husband hunting; that’s the reason why they came here. Helen refused to help initially but after Cassandra saved her life, Helen thinks we owe it to her to try and help her find a man. Anyway, that means they’re leaving tomorrow morning and we won’t have to see them again until April. And you never know, you might find a husband yourself.”

  “Please, Alex, I'm far too old now, you know that.”

  “You sound like a spinster already,” Alex laughed. “But what you fail to realise, is that when one has a face as pretty as yours, age becomes irrelevant.”

  Rose actually looked a little frightened.

  “But that’s only if you want a husband, Rose. If you ask me to, I shall carry a cane and thrash any man who even dares to look at you.” He mimed fencing with an invisible sword.

 

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