by Matilda Hart
Joanna’s eyes looked like they were close to tearing themselves, but she stubbornly blinked them away the service bell in the corner began to ring. “Come now, Miss Rowe. We can’t allow ourselves to be ruined over this. We’re stronger than that.”
Helena nodded slightly, though she was not sure that she believed it.
Straightening out their dresses, the two girls then began their way down the dark stairwell. Helena could only guess at what the marchioness would want with them at such a late hour.
***
“I cannot believe this!” Phineas yelled, throwing his hands in the air. “After all that I went through to make sure that you were finally reunited with Helena – THIS is how I find you?!”
Nathaniel groaned as his mentor’s loud voice reverberated against his throbbing head like a hammer. Though the duke should have been thankful that the barmaid – Marge, he thought – had been willing to tell him the entire story during his blackout, he was less than enthusiastic that she had also told Phineas. The old man had nearly had a heart attack when he received the message to pick him up at the bar early this morning, and he had not stopped roaring at him since Nathaniel got into his carriage.
Stiles had already stopped by twice just to make sure that his master was still alive. Of course with the way he felt right now, Nathaniel would not have been surprised if he was dead soon.
“How on earth could you allow yourself to get drunk?!” the baron continued. “And to allow that poor girl to see you fraternizing with those trollops?! And worst of all – you trusted that no good friend of yours Oliver. THE SCANDAL KING OF LONDON!!”
“Phineas…” he said weakly. “How many times must I tell you I don’t remember what happened? The last thing I recall is having tea at home at ten o’ clock and then Stiles telling me that I had a guest. I swear to you, I must have been drugged,” Nathaniel insisted. “I would never do such a thing to Helena willingly. I told her I loved her and it’s true.”
“If you were drugged, as you claim,” Phineas said, calming his voice. “Then the person who did so was Oliver. There is no one else you trust enough to let in at such a late hour. And he is the only one that knows your preference for the Grinning Wolf. And, most importantly, he is the only one who stands to gain from your downfall.”
Now that he thought about it, Marge had implied that the person who had brought him there was a close friend. Though she had seemed too frightened to be any more specific.
Rationally, it all made sense that it was the earl. But how could he accept that conclusion? The Oliver Dillingham? Betray him? The man that had been his comrade in countless battles, the one who had saved his life at the last second from a French bayonet by taking the attack himself?
No, Nathaniel thought. It just is not possible.
Seeing the man’s torn face, Phineas placed a hand on his shoulder. “Nathaniel… I know that you care for the man. But it is high past time to face the facts. The Oliver Dillingham you knew during the war is gone. All that remains now is a very selfish and dangerous man. Please, son. You need to move on and embrace your future – with Helena.”
The duke shook his head. “Even if I did; I do not think she would ever forgive me.”
Bending down to meet his eyes, the baron said, “If it is true love between you, Nathaniel, then you must be willing to risk it all. And if Helena is the type of woman I believe that she is, then she will understand and forgive you.”
Nathaniel nodded, though his aching mind was still cluttered with confusion. Everything had happened so fast; he was unsure of what to do next. But as he felt the familiar texture of Helena’s handkerchief in his pocket, the duke knew what he needed to do.
Chapter 12
29th of May, 1813
Helena was torn between burning the messages and heading back to her home in Maidstone, or gathering the courage to open them.
One bore the seal of a wolf’s paw. And though she had not opened it yet, Helena was quite sure of what it was. Aside from the note she had also been given several documents to accompany it. So he has finally come to try and force me to do his dirty work for him.
Knowing that she did not have long until the marchioness woke for breakfast, Helena decided to finally get on with it and break the seal. Her nails dug into the skin of her palm as she read the words.
Helena Rhodes,
You are to plant these documents within the library safe and desk of Duke Beaumont. You must not be detected by him or his servant, Stiles. If discovered all knowledge of you will be abandoned and you will likely face accusations of spying and treason. If successful than the terms discussed will be honored. You must complete this assignment by the 31st or it will be assumed that you have disregarded this message and are willing to accept the consequences.
Burn this message upon reading.
Helena placed the treacherous note under a book. Of course Oliver would ensure that she would not be able to escape unscathed. But there was no way she could bring herself to betray him. And how on earth would Helena be able to meet with Nathaniel after all that had occurred? She could barely think of him without wanting to burst into tears.
Helena was not sure whether or not the next message was a pure coincidence or a cruel twist of fate. The red wax seal had the image of a lion’s head; the symbol of the Beaumonts. With a heavy heart she also recalled that Nathaniel had been wearing the mask of a lion. Looking so very handsome… and the way he had held me so close… his hot breath on my ear… No! I can’t allow myself to forget his transgressions so easily! But even so, she supposed she still had the obligation to see what it was that he wanted.
The last thing Helena wanted in her mind throughout the day were the threats of that wretched cad Dillingham. With a reluctant sight, Helena opened the letter.
My dearest Helena Rowe,
I do not expect any forgiveness from you. I have most likely spoiled your already questionable faith in me. But you must believe me when I tell you that I love you. And that I will always love you; even if you decide that my transgressions are much too great for you to put aside. However, I must ask of you for one last chance to explain myself, and to win back your favor. If you decline I will not be angry, or saddened – I do not have a right to be those things after what I have done.
No, I simply wish to see your face and to feel your presence at least once more before you decide to forget me. Please, Helena. Please see inside of my heart and I will show you the truth behind it all.
With my sincerest love and honor,
Du. Nathaniel Beaumont
The young woman could not stop the tears from falling as they hit the fine pages. The words pierced her like an arrow. And try as she might, Helena could not bring herself to burn it as she had planned previously. It was foolish, brash, and completely against all the logic that was inside her, but at that moment she knew that she had to see him again.
Not only did she need to protect him from the evils that Oliver threatened him with, but Helena also needed to prove that this was the truth. It was likely going to be the greatest mistake of her life, but as she went to write a message in reply Helena no longer cared. A short life in Nathaniel’s arms was much better than pretending she no longer loved him. She did. And he was going to know it. And perhaps it might just be enough for them to overcome this.
***
30th of May, 1812
“Did you dispose of the body?” Oliver asked, drawing down the shades of his carriage.
“Yes, Earl Dillingham,” the man answered, feeling the amount of coins in the small bag. “The woman was tied with stones and dropped into the deepest part of the Thames, per your request, sir.”
“Well done, Watson. I am sure you’ll find your compensation satisfactory. No be off. I cannot allow myself to be seen with you past this street,” the earl said briskly, having the carriage barely slow down enough for the man to exit.
How pitiful, Oliver thought. Marge was such a good tease for the nobility. But I cannot affo
rd any loose ends.
Once alone, he ordered his driver to head to the Connolly household. Though he was sure that Selene was not entirely won over yet, Oliver was quite certain that by the end of tonight he would have the woman thoroughly wrapped around his finger. While the man had nothing on her but the humiliation of Nathaniel’s betrayal, from the way she had looked at him he knew that further seduction would be successful.
The woman was crafty, but if she was anything like Henrietta was, then it would not take much to have her salivating for more of his touch. And as for Helena – Oliver was quite sure that the doe-eyed girl would not dare to do anything that might endanger Nathaniel. She was hopelessly devoted to him. The thought of being that dedicated made him disgusted. And also a little jealous.
As the carriage continued towards the gates of the manor, Dillingham felt something like sadness pass through him – a miniscule pang of guilt. However, like most other emotions these days, he simply pushed it down into the cold depths of his soul.
Selene once again rushed Joanna out of sight as she opened the door herself.
“I assume that you are then agreeing to meet with me today, Selene,” Oliver asked, his signature smirk shining forth more brightly than ever. “In my own abode no less.
Saying nothing, the marchioness pushed the man aside as she hurried into his carriage. Not only did she not wish to be seen, but she wanted the whole matter done with as quickly as possible. It was bad enough that Selene was meeting with Oliver, but going inside the belly of the beast was another thing entirely.
And she was still angry that he kept calling her by her first name. “It is Marchioness Connolly,” she snapped, smoothing her skirts as she sat. “Or if you must be so informal, Lady Connolly. You do not have the nobility or the familiarity with which to call me Selene.”
“Very well then, Lady Connolly,” Dillingham replied, purring the name in her ear.
Selene rolled her eyes as she opening a lace fan, separated their faces. “I hope you understand that this is a purely professional relationship, Earl Dillingham.” One fueled by purely revenge and threats of blackmail no less.
“But, my dear. It is so much more… satisfying when the personal is intermixed in the personal,” he rebuffed.
“I am sure you have your fair share of experience with that, sir. But this is not one of those times.” And as they finally reached their destination, Selene could not help but add, “And if you have not yet picked up on the fact – I utterly loathe you with every fiber of my being.”
Oliver shrugged his shoulders. Honestly, the man had heard far worse insults in his life. Even so, his pride could not let it go unpunished as he countered, “And if you are unaware, most of the court – including myself – is absolutely revolted with you, as well as your father.”
As they sat down onto the sofas of the parlor, Selene let her fingers claw into the furniture. She did not know why she continued to goad him like this. The man was a vile endless supply of black, poisonous sludge. There was no point in trying to sink lower than him.
An even worse suspicion then entered her heart. What if it was not about simple one-upmanship? What if she truly-
Before Selene could think about it too clearly she got up and began to gaze about the various objects in the room. Tinkling the tiny bell of a porcelain lamb she asked, “You mentioned earlier that you had some sort of master plot to destroy Nathaniel. However, you never did mention why or what purpose it would serve for you.”
The earl leaned back, contemplating whether or not it would hurt him in any way to tell her. Silently, he came up behind her. Placing a finger at the base of her neck, where the skin between her hair and dressed where exposed. She tensed at first, but then quickly relaxed. Taking this as an invitation for more, he then placed his other hand on her hip – slowly squeezing tighter.
“Earl Dillingham…” Selene warned.
“Please,” he said, kissing her neck and cheek. His soft lips making just enough sensation to send shivers throughout her body. “Call me Oliver.”
The marchioness then turned, forcing her eyes to meet his. Before she could even think whether or not this was even part of her plan anymore, Selene was already kissing him. And just as it was with the first, it seemed as if the amount of hate she felt for him could only be expressed by an increase in veracity. The same could have been easily said with the earl as well. Unlike any woman he had ever tried to seduce, Oliver could feel his heart actually beating faster; excited by the passion.
It was not very long before the two found themselves in the master bedroom, racing to get each other’s clothes off and obtain more flesh, kisses, and the raw fervor of the act. The taste and scent of one another was intoxicating, nearly making Oliver himself forget what they had been attempting to accomplish by meeting today. However, it was not only he made Selene moan several times in absolute bliss that the earl could tear himself away.
With both of them panting heavily, Selene was barely able to muster the strength to repeat her question.
“Very well then, Selene,” he said. “I shall tell you.” His gaze moved to a tapestry on the opposite wall, his coat of arms proudly displayed in magnificent colors. “My ancestry has a rather unique history. Before the French Revolutionary wars, my family was quite high in nobility. My grandfather was a duke. And my grandmother… was a princess. Cast away after her transgressions, but still very much in the royal family – her parents never did have to heart to officially disown her.”
“What on earth are you saying?” Selene scoffed. “That your father was a prince? But your father was an earl!”
“He was indeed a prince – as am I. Even if the commoners such as you were unaware,” Oliver replied. “However, when my father neglected to show the appropriate amount of bravery in battle – even letting his own section die to save his own skin – he was demoted to the status of an earl.”
“Alright, so what then?” the marchioness asked angrily. “Even if you destroy Nathaniel that will not make you a prince in the eyes of the public.”
“Nathaniel’s demise is only the icing to a very delicious cake,” Oliver said, his eyes darkening. “That fool has never deserved the light and honor that he’s gained like myself. And I could not care less about the public. I simply wish to rule them. And once I have taken care that the current prince is placed out of commission, I will take my rightful place as king of England.”
Selene slipped off the bed, placing herself as far away from him as possible. “You’re mad, Oliver. Absolutely mad. How do you plan on getting away with such a plot? Surely they would find some way to link it to you?”
“Oh ye of little faith,” he said, coming closer to her. “Do you think that I would ever plan something like this if I had not meticulously taken care of every detail? As of this very moment, the evidence is being planted at the site of your former lover’s belongings. Just in time for Prince Edward’s IV coronation tomorrow. I hear the wine being served will truly be breath-taking.”
Her mind raced as she tried to figure out what to do next. But the man now looking down on her had her cornered. There was nowhere to run, and even if she managed to escape Selene was quite sure there would be nowhere to hide.
“I say… you have quite shocked me Oliver Dillingham. I must admit that you had me fooled. Acting as if you were merely a cad without a care in the world,” Selene said, forcing a gentle smile on her face as she stroked his umber hair.
“Who is to say I am not those things?” he asked, bending forward to kiss her cheek. “You know, Selene. A king is rather lonely position if there is not a queen to stand beside him.”
Selene placed her arms around his neck as she kissed his lips. “Oliver, are you proposing that I be your queen?”
“Would you accept it?”
The marchioness smiled. “Well it would be a handsome change,” she mused. “There is just one small problem…”
“And what would that be?” he asked softy.
Gathe
ring all the strength in her body that she could muster, Selene then sent her knee straight into the man’s crotch. “I ABSOLUTELY DESPISE YOU!” she roared, fleeing for her life out of the room.
I have to go and warn Nathaniel. He will know what to do. I cannot believe I was so foolish to go through with this! As the marchioness began to race around the labyrinth of the manor, it began to dawn on her that she may not make it out of her alive. All of this because of my hate!
As she hid behind the corner of a hall, Selene then began to pray that she would somehow be delivered from this. And in return, she would do everything in her power to make things right. But as she prepared to run into another room, Selene felt a sharp blow to the back of the head. Before she could even recover, the woman was then thrown into the wall headfirst.
Her vision quickly fading to black, she heard a distorted male voice say, “You are a damned foolish whore, Marchioness Connolly. But I will not allow you to escape my wrath so prematurely. Once I am made ruler of this land, I will see to it that you are punished personally in the most painful way I can imagine.”
Chapter 13
30th of May, 1812
“Miss Rowe, are you sure you truly want to go?” Joanna asked upon hearing about Nathaniel’s request. “After what happened surely no one could blame you for refusing.”
“I know, Joanna. But even if this is a mistake I could not live with myself if I did not at least give him one last chance,” Helena replied, packing the documents in her bag. In truth, if she had not been threatened then she may have been more tempted to leave him behind, but the thought the duke being hurt - as well as her father - forced her hand to action.
Joanna nodded her head. “Alright, Miss, if you say so. I do hope that it is not too late to change him. And if anyone can, I believe it is you.”
