by Holt, Cheryl
His mind was awhirl with happy prospects, so by the time Hayden dismounted, Jasper was on pins and needles. He rushed out to greet them, but when Hayden reached in the carriage and pulled out a filthy, disheveled Desdemona, he could have fainted from shock.
Her dress was torn, her hair tangled with strands of straw crushed into it as if she’d been sleeping in a barn. Her eyes had been blackened as if she’d been punched very hard, and most surprising of all, she was shackled from head to toe.
“Desdemona, what have you done?” he asked.
She was gagged too, so she couldn’t reply. Hayden picked her up and carried her over to Jasper, and he set her down in front of him.
“Hello, Jasper.”
“Hello, Hayden.” Hayden’s companion hadn’t bothered to dismount, and Jasper glanced up at him. “Aren’t you Christopher Stanton? Aren’t you Andrew’s brother? I met him at my clubs in town.”
“I am Mr. Stanton. Hello, Mr. Henley.”
On being called Mr. Henley, Jasper was startled. It was potent evidence of how low he’d fallen. He’d loved being Lord Middlebury, and it was another offense in a long line of them that he would never be able to abide.
“I’ve dragged your wife home,” Hayden said.
“Where has she been?”
“At Middlebury.”
“What?” Jasper yanked his focus to Des. “You told me you were going to London.”
She glared at him as if she hated him. Why would she hate him? He hadn’t brought Hayden back from the dead. He hadn’t ruined anything. Blame Fate. Blame God. Blame anyone but Jasper. He was an innocent bystander.
“She tried to murder me,” Hayden bluntly declared.
Jasper couldn’t stop a smile from popping out. “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed she had it in her.”
“Wipe that grin off your face,” Hayden firmly commanded, “or I will wipe it off for you.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Jasper hastily muttered. “You were saying?”
“She snuck onto my property and shot at me.”
“Desdemona! For shame!” he scolded, but in reality, he was quite impressed. He wished he’d had the courage to attempt it.
“She wounded me,” Hayden went on, “so I’ve personally conveyed her to you so I can deliver this message.”
“What message?” Jasper asked, his spirits sinking.
“My arrival in England has left you in a terrible bind.”
“It absolutely has.”
“So I’m willing to provide you with a financial settlement, but if I ever lay eyes on your wife again, if she ever comes within ten miles of me, I will rescind my offer, and you will receive nothing.”
“I understand.”
Hayden stepped in so he and Jasper were toe to toe. He was a large fellow, and he towered over Jasper in a menacing way.
“Let me add this,” Hayden warned. “In light of how you mismanaged Middlebury, I probably shouldn’t give you a penny. In fact, my partner, Mr. Stone, worked vehemently to talk me out of it.”
“It’s only fair that you aid me,” Jasper insisted.
“Yes, I believe it is, so if I ever see your wife in the future, I won’t kill her.”
“Well…good. You shouldn’t traipse around the country killing people.”
“I won’t kill her, because I’ll kill you.”
Jasper gasped. “You’d slay me for her misbehavior?”
“Yes,” Hayden coldly responded, “and I’d enjoy it too. Get control of her, Jasper. Don’t be stupid.”
He pushed Des at Jasper, and Jasper had to steady her or—with her ankles fettered—she’d have collapsed to the cobbles.
Hayden motioned to the carriage driver, and he raced away. Then Hayden climbed onto his horse, but he didn’t trot off. He stared at the house, studying it in a disturbing manner.
“I suppose you bought this place with my money,” Hayden said.
“What else would we have used?”
“What else indeed?” Hayden glowered. “You shouldn’t plan to keep it. I’ll be serving an eviction notice shortly.”
Des began to rage behind her gag, and Jasper said, “We purchased it for Des’s mother, but with our situation reduced, this is where we intend to live. If you take it from us, where will we go?”
“Perhaps you should have considered that before your wife showed up at Middlebury.”
“She didn’t mean any harm.” Jasper scowled at Des. “Tell him you didn’t mean any harm!”
Des spat an epithet, and Hayden rolled his eyes with exasperation. “She’s like a venomous snake, Jasper, and I should cut off her head. It would definitely prevent her from striking again.”
“Hayden!” Jasper chided. “I hate to have you so angry with me. How can I make it up to you?”
“You can’t,” Hayden amiably said.
“I’ve written to my lawyer. You’ll be hearing from him soon.”
At the threat, Hayden laughed. “I’m trembling in my boots.”
He tugged on the reins and galloped off, Mr. Stanton following him. Jasper stood, watching them disappear and yearning to accompany them, to be anywhere but trapped with his battered, grubby wife.
Once it was quiet, he turned to her. “What were you thinking, Desdemona? Hayden is willing to give us a settlement. You could have wrecked it.”
He spun and stomped inside, leaving her to manage on her own, to hop herself in with her ankles shackled. She’d gotten herself into the jam. She could bloody well get herself out of it.
The humiliations were piling up. How could he escape them? The notion of fleeing England was sounding better and better.
* * * *
“You’re either joking or you’re playing the cruelest trick ever.”
“I’m not joking.”
“He’s alive?”
“Very much so.”
Mary and Millie were hovered in the grass under a parlor window. They were eavesdropping on their aunts and uncles who’d locked themselves in for an important family meeting. Mildred was there too, but no one had thought to include them.
Alex had ridden in a bit earlier, and from his expression, they’d immediately guessed that trouble was brewing. They never liked disasters to arise. They’d suffered through too many of them and never trusted that an ill wind might not blow in when they least expected it.
“What about our parents?” Aunt Catherine asked. “Might they be alive too? Were they with him?”
“I didn’t question him about them,” Alex said. “I was so stunned that the prospect never occurred to me, but I doubt they’re with him. He’s declared himself to be the earl. If your father was there, he couldn’t have.”
“Did you inquire as to where he’s been?” Sarah asked.
“No. Again, I was too astonished to delve into the details.”
“Hayden Henley, back from the dead,” Mildred murmured. “If I hadn’t heard it with my own ears, I wouldn’t have believed it.”
Mary and Millie were so thrilled they clapped palms over their mouths to tamp down any squeals of surprise, but they weren’t really surprised, and they grinned. He wasn’t a ghost after all.
“What’s he like?” Catherine asked Alex.
“First off, you have to remember that he’s a decade older, but it’s more than that. He’s very changed, very different from the young man you recall. I think he’s had some difficult experiences.”
Millie had their locket. She pulled it out, and they assessed their father’s picture.
He’s not different. Millie spoke to Mary in her head. He’s exactly the same.
“Here’s the big news for now,” Aunt Abigail said. “He’s coming to visit us later today. Christopher is escorting him from Middlebury.”
There were shrieks of amazement, then there was a myriad of jumbled queries posed all at once: “When will they arrive?” and “How long will he stay?” and “What should I wear?” and simply “Oh, my go
odness, my goodness.”
Sarah and Catherine had burst into tears.
“Don’t cry, you two,” Abigail said. “If you start in, you’ll get me going, and we’ll all be blubbering like babies.”
There was sniffling and mumbling, then the room quieted, and Alex said, “This is the main thing I have to mention to all of you.”
Uncle Nicholas scoffed. “You mean besides the fact that Hayden Henley is prancing about at Middlebury.”
“Yes, besides that,” Alex snidely stated. “He stopped by Wallace Downs a few days ago, and he talked to Millie out in the woods.”
There were collective gasps, then Alex kept on. “She thought he was a ghost, and he was so flummoxed by running into her that he didn’t tarry. He didn’t realize he was a father, especially a father of twins.”
“That can’t be right,” Mildred said. “Wasn’t his behavior with their mother the cause of your quarrel with him?”
“Yes, but when he was in Italy with his parents, they were told Eugenia lost her baby, that no child was born.”
“All these years, he didn’t know about them?”
“No, but he knows now, and he wants custody.”
There were more gasps, then a lengthy silence where they supposed people were casting shocked glances back and forth. Mary and Millie were quite overwhelmed too.
“Will you let him have them?” Mildred asked.
“We haven’t decided,” Aunt Abigail said. “We’ll have to debate it with him. Alex is concerned about what kind of man he is now and whether he’s in any condition to care for them.”
“I for one,” Catherine said, “won’t have them dumped into another bad situation.”
“We can’t assume that it will be bad,” Alex insisted. “We can’t assume anything. That’s the problem.”
“As soon as we wrap up this discussion,” Aunt Abigail said, “we’re telling the twins.”
“They’ll be so excited…”
It was the last they heard of the adults’ conversation. They tiptoed away and dashed to their secret spot out in the garden. They sat on the bench and gazed at their father’s picture.
“I knew it was him,” Millie said. “The minute I saw him I knew.”
“And I knew he’d come for us,” Mary said.
“You always thought so.”
“Will he like how we turned out?”
Millie nodded. “I think he will.”
“He wants us to live with him at Middlebury.”
They clasped hands and squeezed their fingers as Millie said, “We’d have to leave Wallace Downs though. We’d have to leave Alex and Aunt Abigail.”
They pondered, then Mary said, “Maybe we could live both places. We could stay with Father for a bit, then we could travel to Wallace Downs and stay with Alex and Abigail.”
“We could—if they permit it.”
“Do you imagine they might?”
“Who can guess? You know how grownups are.”
They stared at their father’s picture some more, then Millie tucked it away and said, “We need to get ready so everything is perfect when he arrives.”
“Yes.”
“Let’s hurry to our bedchamber. We’ll put on our prettiest dress, the white one with the blue pinafore. It’s my favorite.”
“Yes,” Mary agreed, “and we’ll have Aunt Sarah braid our hair.”
“She can weave flowers in the braids.”
“That’s the best idea ever! We should pick some right now, then we’ll change our clothes.”
They strolled into the garden to pick as many flowers as they could carry.
* * * *
“Where were you hiding?”
“Upstairs.”
“We were worried.”
Helen glared at her father, at her sister, and she coolly replied, “Were you?”
“Yes,” Simon told her. “We were actually quite alarmed.”
Becky chimed in with, “Hayden departed with Mr. Stanton, and you didn’t even say good-bye.”
Helen glowered at her for an eternity, until her sister blushed and looked away. The last time they’d spoken, Becky had been locked in her torrid embrace with Will Stone. Helen had scolded her, and for her efforts, she’d been insulted and mocked.
She was trying not to be hurt by Becky’s disregard, but with her low mood and broken heart, her sister’s words seemed particularly cutting. For once, she couldn’t pretend they hadn’t been voiced.
It was late in the afternoon, and they were in the front parlor having tea. She was seated on a chair, and Simon and Becky were on the sofa across from her. They kept peeking at each other and wondering what had happened.
Lord Middlebury had left, so the house was silent as a tomb, and Helen was grateful for the peace and quiet. Without him as a distraction, she’d been able to think rationally, and she’d reached all sorts of important decisions.
She shifted her focus to her father. “Has Becky talked to you about the incident I witnessed?”
Simon smiled a cheery smile. “She’s been talking to me all day, and I can’t get her to pipe down. What topic is vexing you?”
Helen was fairly sure Becky wouldn’t have confessed the episode, and Helen couldn’t deduce why she, herself, should fuss about it. Yet Becky was her sister, and Helen would hate for her to land herself in a jam.
“Becky is sweet on Will Stone,” Helen said.
“Helen!”
Becky flashed a warning glance, but her father waved away the comment. “If she’s sweet on him, I’m not surprised. He’s a handsome boy who spurned her, so that makes him a challenge.”
“It’s more involved than that,” Helen insisted.
“How involved?” he asked.
He was hardly interested, so Helen couldn’t force herself to be interested either. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. If it blows up into a huge mess, you can deal with it then. You should be aware that Mr. Stone will never agree to a marriage between them.”
“Of course he won’t,” Simon replied. “Becky realizes that.”
“Does she?”
“Yes. We’ve discussed it at length.”
Helen shook her head. “I’m certain she’s listened to your wise advice, and she’ll heed you in the future.
She didn’t care how it resolved. Oddly, she didn’t care about much of anything. With how cruel Lord Middlebury had been, she felt as if he’d turned her to stone. Or perhaps he’d altered the blood in her veins. She was completely frozen on the inside.
“I was curious about one other situation,” she said.
“What is it, dear?” her father asked.
“Have you conferred with Lord Middlebury about me?”
On noting how she referred to the earl, they scowled and sat up straighter.
“Helen, my pet,” Simon murmured, “what’s wrong? It’s obvious you’re incredibly sad. You must confide in me at once.”
“Did you speak to him?” she repeated more sternly, and his cheeks flushed with chagrin.
“Well, yes.”
“You didn’t bother to tell me.”
“Oh, Helen, it would only have upset you. I thought it better to ignore the whole thing. The longer we remain, the more indispensible you become. He may change his mind.”
“You really believe that? You believe he’ll change his mind?”
“I refuse to not believe it.”
“Was he malicious in his response? He laughed in your face? He guffawed and slapped his knee? What?”
Her father dithered, then kindly admitted, “He cut me off before I could finish my sentence.”
“I see.”
“He asked me to not continue, that it would embarrass both of us. I let the matter drop.”
“Is that all you could manage for me? You declined to finish your sentence?” She snorted with disgust. “I have no idea why I put up with either of you.”
�
�Helen!” her sister scolded. “That’s the most derogatory remark you’ve ever uttered. What’s come over you?”
They might have tumbled into a quarrel, which would have been unusual for them, but over in the doorway, a woman cleared her throat. They gaped over at her.
She was in her fifties or even her sixties, plump and cordial looking, tidy in her appearance, her gray hair pulled into a neat bun.
“I apologize for barging in,” she said, “but I dawdled in the foyer forever and there was no one to greet me.”
Helen stood and forced a smile. “At the moment, we’re short-handed.
“It’s the rumor in the village. I am Mrs. Jenkins.”
“Hello, Mrs. Jenkins. I am Helen Barnes, and this is my father, Simon, and my sister, Becky.”
“You’re related to Desdemona Henley.”
“Yes. We’re her cousins.”
“I was told Viscount Henley has returned.”
“Yes, Hayden Henley is here, but he’s Lord Middlebury now.”
“So the rumors are true,” Mrs. Jenkins breathed.
“Yes.”
“Ah…I hope I’m not being too forward, but I was housekeeper here for many years. Gossip has it that Viscount Henley—I mean Lord Middlebury—is hiring some of the prior servants.”
“He is,” Helen said. “I’ve been interviewing for him. He’s been too busy to reflect on any of the people I’ve recommended, but I’m sure he will.”
“I was wondering about my position. I would love to work for him. I always loved the family—the old family—and I realize the property has fallen apart recently. I’d like to pitch in and help get it in shape.”
Helen didn’t hesitate, didn’t blink. “You’re hired.”
Simon and Becky gasped, as Mrs. Jenkins said, “I am?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you have to…ah…check with Lord Middlebury?”
“No. When can you start?”
“How about tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow will be splendid,” Helen said.
“What time should I arrive?”
“What time is convenient for you?”
“I can be here first thing.”
