by Holt, Cheryl
Helen would listen and understand.
He’d been horrid to her. Why had he? He’d convinced himself that he should wed very high so he could prove to the whole world that he was back with a vengeance. But he couldn’t bear to shackle himself to some snooty, aristocratic girl who’d never been anywhere or done anything.
How would a princess deal with his temper and rages? How would a princess soothe him or know what to say in a difficult situation? He didn’t care what the world thought of him. He didn’t care if the world noticed who he chose for a bride.
A decade earlier, those kinds of issues had mattered to him, but they didn’t matter anymore. He just wanted to be happy, and Helen made him happy.
Gad, he had to get to Middlebury right away! He’d apprised Robert that he would probably stay until the wedding, but he couldn’t. Not with Helen being so far away.
She needed to travel to Wallace Downs and meet his family, and there was no hope for it. He had to fetch her. He should have brought her along in the first place, and she was smarter than he was. She’d suggested he bring her, but like an arrogant ass, he’d refused to consider it.
He didn’t deserve her. If he arrived at Middlebury, and she told him to stuff it, her disdain would be fully warranted.
He waved to the twins, and they stopped their game and climbed onto the verandah. He pulled them to him, giving them a tight hug, not loosening his grip until they started to fidget. He couldn’t help it. They smelled so good, like little girls and flowers and sunshine. He’d like to capture the aroma in a bottle.
He perched one on each thigh and said, “I have an idea.”
“What is it?” they inquired together.
“I have to ride to Middlebury.” They scowled, and he hurried to add, “And I was wondering if your Aunt Abigail would permit you to accompany me.”
They both gasped, and Millie said, “I’ll bet she would—if you ask her in just the right way.”
“I bet she would too,” he agreed. “It’ll be a quick trip, so I can show you our home, but we’ll have to return for the wedding.”
“Of course we have to return,” Mary said. “We’re walking down the aisle to toss flowers in front of the bride. We can’t miss that.”
“No, you definitely can’t.” He stood them on their feet, then he stood too. “Let’s find Abigail and see what she says.”
* * * *
The carriage rattled to a halt, and Hayden reined in too. He stared up at Middlebury Manor.
After visiting Wallace Downs, he’d been vividly reminded of how beautiful an estate could be, and he was more aggravated than ever at how Jasper had let the place fall apart. The task of repairing it seemed more monumental than ever, but he’d have Helen to help him restore it to its former glory.
He was so excited to be back, and he leapt down from his horse and opened the carriage door. Mary and Millie practically jumped into his arms. He grabbed one, then the other, and set them on the ground. They’d brought their maid too, and he held her hand as she exited.
Abigail had been dubious about his trotting off with the twins, and when she’d insisted the maid go too, he’d consented rather than quarrel about it. She was quiet and unassuming, and he rarely noticed her lurking so—in his view—she was a perfect servant.
They all gazed up at the house.
“What do you think?” he asked the twins.
“It’s very grand,” Mary said.
“Told you,” he teased.
“It’s bigger than Wallace Downs.”
“Yes, but Wallace Downs is in better shape,” Hayden said.
“You’ll have it fixed in no time though,” Mary loyally declared.
“I’m planning on it.”
He’d given them a brief explanation of how Jasper had been an awful manager while Hayden was away, but beyond that concise account, they had quite an extensive knowledge of his affairs—gleaned from spying on his sisters—so they were aware of how his sisters had struggled when Jasper had declined to offer them any aid.
It was the most galling aspect of his anger at Jasper. He didn’t care about Desdemona. She wasn’t a Henley, but Jasper was, and it was his treatment of Abigail, Catherine, and Sarah that was too much to abide.
Desdemona had been responsible for most of the despicable conduct, and Jasper had been too spineless to stand up to her. Their disgraceful behavior made him feel less guilty about the actions he was taking. Whatever problems Jasper and his wife suffered, he wouldn’t fret for a single second.
He dawdled for a minute, hoping Helen would see that he’d arrived, that she’d immediately realize he’d returned because he was sorry. But no one emerged to greet them.
“Where is Miss Barnes?” he murmured more to himself than to them. “I was certain she’d rush out.”
He’d talked about Helen with them. He hadn’t precisely clarified his relationship with her, but they’d gotten the general drift of what he’d implied.
“Will she be surprised that we’re here?” Millie asked.
“She’ll be very surprised,” he replied.
“She didn’t know we were coming? You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
They grinned up at him, and Mary said, “Will she like us?”
“She likes everybody,” he told her, “but who wouldn’t like you?”
They started up the stairs, and as they approached the front doors, a woman stepped out. He didn’t recognize her, and for a moment, the sight of her had him extremely disoriented.
“Lord Middlebury,” she said, “welcome home.”
“Hello?”
She was older and appeared very competent. “From your expression, it’s clear you don’t remember me. I’m Mrs. Jenkins. I was housekeeper for your mother and father.”
“Mrs. Jenkins! How lovely to see you again.”
“Miss Barnes hired me.”
“What a completely marvelous idea.”
“I trust you won’t mind, but I’ve hired some of my nieces and nephews from the village too. They’d been assisting me.”
“I’m delighted to hear it.”
“Who are these fetching young ladies?”
“This is Mary, and this is Millie. They’re my daughters.”
Mrs. Jenkins was a professional. At the announcement, she didn’t so much as blink. “They couldn’t be anyone else. They look just like you.”
The twins beamed with pride, and Hayden smiled at them.
“It’s easy to tell that you belong to me,” he said.
“Come in, come in.” Mrs. Jenkins gestured for them to enter. “There’s no need to tarry on the stoop.”
“Is Miss Barnes here?” Hayden asked as he strolled into the foyer.
“Ah…no.” Mrs. Jenkins stared at him strangely. “Her father and Miss Becky are though. Would you like to speak to them?”
“If it’s not too much bother.” He peered down at the twins. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes!” they crowed. They were always hungry.
“Have a tray of snacks prepared,” he advised Mrs. Jenkins. “We’ll eat in the receiving parlor. After I’ve fed them, I’ll give them a tour of the property while you open a room for them.”
“One room or two?”
“One. They like to be together. Right, girls?”
“Yes, please, Mrs. Jenkins,” Millie said.
“We don’t like to be separated,” Mary added.
“Put them in a chamber up by my suite,” he said.
“I will.”
“We have a bit of luggage for them. Is there someone who can haul it in?”
“Yes, I have someone.”
“See, girls? Things are improving already.” He herded them into the parlor, then said to Mrs. Jenkins, “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad too, my lord.”
“Send Simon or Becky down to me, will you?”
“I will.”
“And
when Helen returns, send her in too.” He paused. “Actually, don’t send her in. Let me know, and we’ll sneak up and surprise her.”
“Ah…I will let you know,” Mrs. Jenkins mumbled, and she hurried out.
He plopped down on a sofa, and the twins began snooping. They’d been shut up in the carriage all day, and they were eager to explore. Before too much time had passed, footsteps sounded in the hall, and Simon sauntered in.
“Hayden! Mrs. Jenkins told me you were back.”
“We just rolled in.” Hayden motioned to the twins. “Mary, Millie, this is Pastor Barnes. He’s a…uh…friend of mine.”
Simon raised a brow. “I’m a friend now, am I? I’m honored.”
The girls walked over, and Hayden introduced them. “These are my daughters, Mary and Millie.”
Simon had a definite way with the ladies. “My, my, but aren’t you pretty!” he gushed. “You could be angels painted on a church ceiling!”
His remark had them preening. In unison, they said, “Thank you, Pastor Barnes.”
Hayden waved them away as Simon helped himself to the chair across.
“It’s wonderful that you went to meet them,” Simon said, “and I’m thrilled that you brought them to Middlebury. It’s all for the good.”
“Yes, it is.”
“How was Alex Wallace? I hope you didn’t quarrel with him.”
“It was all very civil. You’d never have known how much we loathe one another.”
Millie popped up behind him. “Why would you quarrel with Alex?”
“None of your business.” Hayden shifted his focus to Simon. “Where’s Helen? Mrs. Jenkins claims she’s out. When will she be back?”
“She won’t be.”
Hayden scowled. “What do you mean?”
“You didn’t get my letter?”
“What letter?”
Simon sighed with exasperation. “I wrote you a letter, and I had Will deliver it to Wallace Downs for me.”
“The idiot never mentioned it.”
“I was sure you didn’t intend for her to depart.”
“Depart where? What are you talking about?”
“Well, for some reason, she believed you planned to fire her when you returned from Wallace Downs.”
Hayden’s cheeks flushed with chagrin. “I wasn’t planning to fire her!”
“That’s what I assumed, and I begged her not to leave. I insisted you wouldn’t want her to, but she insisted you would.”
“The woman is deranged,” Hayden huffed. “I simply apprised her that we should think about her future.”
“It appears the two of you had different interpretations of the conversation. She was extremely upset, and when Mrs. Jenkins stopped by to apply for her old job, Helen hired her and fled.”
“Where is she?”
“She has a friend, Evangeline Etherton, Lady Run?”
Hayden shook his head. “Never heard of her.”
“She owns the school they once attended, and she offered Helen a teaching position. It started immediately, and it came with room and board. Helen didn’t feel she could refuse.”
“You and Becky are still here.”
“Yes, and we hope you’ll let us stay for a bit. We don’t really have anywhere to go.”
Hayden was too irritated to worry about the disreputable pair. “I don’t care if you stay—so long as you don’t become permanent residents.”
“We won’t. We need an opportunity to figure out our next move.”
“I don’t understand what happened. Helen might abandon you, but she wouldn’t abandon her sister.”
“She was a tad…irked with us. We aren’t the easiest relatives in the world, and she’s had to carry more than her share of the load. Plus, she was desperate to escape Middlebury.” Simon cast a disapproving glare at Hayden. “She hasn’t been treated very well by any of us.”
Hayden was flummoxed. Of all the possible situations he’d envisioned at Middlebury—Helen glad to see him, Helen angry to see him—he hadn’t imagined she’d have deserted him.
“She left me!” he groused. “Just like that! She left!”
“Yes. She doesn’t like you much more than she likes us.”
“She’s at this school now? She aims to be a teacher?”
“Yes.”
“She doesn’t know anything about teaching.”
“I disagree. She’ll be very good at it.”
“I don’t agree, and no offense, Simon, but your daughter is mad as a hatter.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the twins, who were trying to be inconspicuous so they could eavesdrop and not be chased out.
“Guess what?” he said to them.
“What?”
“Miss Barnes isn’t here.”
“We heard.”
“We’ll have to head out tomorrow to fetch her.”
Simon frowned. “Could we confer about this in private?”
“No.”
“She was so distraught. You shouldn’t go after her—not unless your opinion has changed on a few issues.”
“My opinion has definitely changed,” Hayden said.
“Has it? Would you like to tell me how?”
“No, I would not, but once Helen is home, she can tell you if she feels like it.”
“Why bring her back? You make her so miserable.”
“I make her miserable?” Hayden bristled. “You’re being ridiculous. She loves me.”
“She did love you, and you tossed that love in her face. She’s a very proud woman, and you devastated her with your disregard.”
“I probably could have behaved better, but in my own defense, I didn’t realize what I wanted.”
“What is that?”
“Helen—you thick oaf.”
“You don’t want Helen,” her father chided. “You’re merely annoyed because she’s had enough of you, and your ego can’t stand being rejected. I have to ask that you not hurt her more than you already have.”
“Hurt her? Don’t be daft.”
“How am I being daft?”
“I don’t mean to hurt her. I mean to marry her.”
“You think she’d have you? After how you spurned her?”
“I absolutely think she will.” He stood and gestured to the twins. “Let’s take a walk, and I’ll show you around.”
He strolled out, the girls hot on his heels, leaving Simon to fume and fret like a mother hen, but Hayden wasn’t worried at all. Helen had never been able to resist him, and he’d win her back. Of that fact, he had no doubt.
* * * *
Desdemona sat in the seedy room she’d rented in London with the last of her money. People in the adjacent room were drunk and fighting. She’d pounded on the wall and hollered at them to pipe down, but they’d ignored her.
She’d been in London for several days, trying to visit acquaintances, but it had been quickly apparent that she was being ostracized. She’d dared to knock at various houses, but rude butlers had claimed no one was at home even though it was obvious the occupants were inside and had issued orders to deny her entrance.
She’d frittered away valuable pennies at the theater and other places where she could accidently bump into some of her prior associates, but she’d either been given the cut direct or they’d pretended not to know her.
At the gambling clubs where she’d been a member, she’d been flat-out turned away. Club owners were blunt and insulting about her reduced condition.
From the start when Jasper had ascended to the title, she’d been viewed as an interloper by High Society. With her troubles being publicly bandied, they’d closed ranks, informing her in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t welcome to rub elbows with them.
It was a low blow that had her thoroughly pummeled.
In the interim, she’d spent exhausting hours writing frantic letters to her relatives, begging for loans, begging for shelter, but all reque
sts had been curtly rebuffed. Once she’d become a countess, she’d admit to not always being kind to her kin, and they were gleefully getting even.
Even her own mother had forsaken her. The ungrateful witch had saved herself by moving in with a friend, but when Desdemona had demanded to tag along, her mother had scoffed and refused to permit it.
To top it all off, she was having to inquire everywhere about Jasper. She figured he was hiding from creditors, but she couldn’t discover his location.
When they’d last talked, it had been that terrible morning when she’d gone into the village to plead with merchants that they continue furnishing food and supplies. He’d mentioned that Henley had provided some funds to tide them over until his attorney could negotiate a full settlement.
Desdemona had just been to their bank where she’d been aghast to learn that money had been deposited by Henley, but Jasper had stopped by the next day and withdrawn all of it. The account was empty.
Someone rapped on her door, but she couldn’t imagine who it might be. She went over and peeked out, and the landlord was there.
“A letter arrived for you,” he said. “It was just delivered.”
“Oh.”
Her pulse fluttered with relief. Was it from Jasper? Was he searching for her?
“About the rent,” the landlord said. “I’m letting you pay by the week, and it’s due tomorrow. You’re new, so please recall that you’re not allowed to be late.”
“Yes, yes, you were very clear from the beginning.”
He studied her, studied the decrepit room. There was no concealing the fact that she was a woman who’d fallen on hard times.
“If I don’t have payment by ten o’clock,” he warned, “we’ll put your things out on the street.”
“I understand!”
She snatched the letter from him and shut the door in his face.
As she’d suspected, it was from Jasper. Finally! Where was the dirty rat? Hopefully, he’d found an amusing party where they could loaf and drink and gamble. She’d join him there, and before she could blink, she’d be feeling utterly restored.
She staggered to the bed and eased down, trembling as she broke the seal. But as she read the words he’d penned, they were completely indecipherable.
I have sailed from England, and I’m never coming back. Don’t bother trying to find me. You won’t be able to. If you would like to divorce me, citing desertion, I will not fight you. I believe I might have left you in the lurch. I apologize.
