An Innocent Debutante in Hanover Square

by Anne Herries

  Helene spent the morning walking with friends in the park. She had wondered if Lady Annersley would drop a hint of her background to her friends, but it seemed the lady had kept their secret so far. If anything, Helene seemed to have more friends each day. She mentioned the fact to Amelia, who smiled at her.

  ‘You have a quiet manner and you do not put yourself forward, Helene. I believe that is the reason you have become popular with the ladies as much as the gentlemen.’

  ‘People are very kind, but of course they do not know my background.’ She was unsmiling. Lady Annersley’s spite had made her very aware that she did not belong in exalted circles.

  ‘I believe you would find that most people would accept you despite it,’ Amelia told her. ‘Your father was a gentleman—and you are related to Annesdale.’ She smiled. ‘Your mama had such a bad experience that she has allowed it to cloud her judgement, but I do not think it would weigh with many of your friends.’

  Helene was thoughtful. Her mother’s father had been an honest working man. She lifted her head proudly. She would not allow a spiteful woman to make her ashamed of her grandfather!

  A part of her wished that she had opened her heart to Lord Coleridge that night at Vauxhall Gardens. The duke had told her that Max would not wish to marry her once he knew it would disoblige him, but she had not given him the chance to choose and she had never ceased to regret it.

  Max glanced through the notes and cards handed to him when he returned to his rooms at his club in London. One of them was from Amelia Royston, asking him to call as soon as he returned to town. He frowned over it for the tone seemed urgent, but decided it could wait until the morning. He would send a note to tell her that he would call tomorrow, and then pay a visit to a gambling house that he sometimes frequented. In the meantime, there was a call he must make. He had ignored Annesdale’s letter asking him to visit and he must certainly put that right without delay.

  His valet had put up a change of clothes for him, his manner of dignified silence reminding Max that he had offended the man by dispensing with his services for the past few days.

  ‘Do not look so stiff, Carter,’ Max said and grinned. ‘You will be coming with me next time—and, if things go as I plan, we shall be acquiring our own house in town. I am thinking of settling down and taking a wife.’

  ‘If I may say so, it is not before time, my lord.’

  ‘You are very right,’ Max said and grinned. ‘I am not certain the lady will have me, but I mean to make a push with her.’

  ‘I dare say most ladies would consider it an honour, milord.’

  ‘No? Do you?’ Max said and chuckled softly. ‘This one is not so easily convinced, believe me. I shall not be late back, Carter—but I shall want my best coat tomorrow. The new blue one…’

  ‘Ah, yes, sir. That is very suitable. I shall have it ready in the morning.’

  Max nodded and took his leave. He went out into the gathering gloom. It was after he had been walking for a few minutes that Max had a sense that he was being followed. He glanced over his shoulder, but could not see anything. He might have imagined it, but he was alerted to danger, his instincts telling him that someone had been following at a discreet distance. He touched his pocket, where the pistol was heavy, already primed for use. He did not intend to be taken unawares again. Then, seeing a hackney waiting for a passenger drawn up at the side of the road, he hailed the driver. It was better to be safe rather than sorry.

  He was smiling as the cab set him down in front of Annesdale’s house a little later. The duke was an irascible old devil, but he happened to like him.

  Chapter Nine

  ‘I am going to the lending library with Emily,’ Helene said that morning as she met Amelia on her way downstairs. ‘Mama has requested a book—is there anything you require? Unless you wish to accompany us?’

  ‘Thank you, dearest,’ Amelia said and shook her head. ‘I have several things to do. I must go through the list of acceptances for my costume ball, which is next week. It is amazing how time has flown. The ball seemed such a long time away and now it is almost here.’

  ‘I am looking forward to it,’ Helene said, for she had decided that she must make the most of things since she was forced to remain in town. ‘I think it should be amusing to guess the identity of one’s friends.’

  ‘I am glad you are looking forward to it. Run along now, Helene. I have much to do…’

  Helene felt that Amelia’s manner was a little odd, for it was almost as if she wanted to be rid of her, but, no, she must be imagining things. Amelia was the kindest of friends.

  Emily was waiting for her when she reached the hall. She picked up a small parcel of books she was returning.

  ‘Are you ready, Helene? I was hoping we might have time to visit the milliner’s shop after we have been to the library. I ordered a new bonnet and I think it will be ready.’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Helene agreed. ‘I am sure there will be plenty of time. We have no other engagements until this afternoon.’

  They spent half an hour choosing the books they had come to find and then left, carrying two each. Another twenty minutes was spent in the milliner’s shop. Helene tried on three pretty bonnets, but could not decide between them. She was uncertain if she wished to spend her pin money on a new bonnet, because if she returned home without finding a new position she would have to make what little money she had last until she could find herself work. Uncle Edgar would not be too pleased to have them back, especially if he learned that she had turned down a suitable offer.

  They had left the milliner’s shop and were on their way home, just crossing the square to Amelia’s house when it happened. Helene saw the man coming towards her and her heart took a flying leap. She felt her throat tighten with sudden longing. Max looked even more handsome than she remembered; he was wearing a very smart blue coat that fitted him so well that it could only have been made by Weston, that most exclusive of tailors. Her heart began to beat very fast and she was feeling a little confused, which was why she did not immediately notice the odd behaviour of the man behind Max. It was only as he raised his arm that she was alerted to danger. He was holding a knife in his hand. When she saw what he meant to do she cried out, but her warning was a second too late. The man’s arm was raised poised to plunge a long, thin dagger into Max’s back; Max’s interest was fixed on her and he seemed unaware of the danger.

  Afterwards, Helene did not know if it was her cry of alarm or Max’s instinct that made him turn in that instant. He grabbed for the assassin’s arm, tackling him as the knife struck. Because of his action, the knife slashed through the arm of his coat; she was sure that it would otherwise have been plunged into his back. She screamed as they struggled, rushing towards them and crying out for help. The assassin became aware of her and suddenly broke free, dropping his knife as he ran off. However, the alarm had been raised and at least two men set off after him.

  ‘Stop! Foul murder!’ The cry was taken up all around them and several passers-by set up a hue and cry. Two burly costers went running after the rogue who had attacked Max. Helene rushed towards him, her embarrassment at this meeting forgotten in the shock of seeing what had happened.

  ‘My lord—Max,’ Helene cried. ‘That wicked rogue! He tried to kill you… I saw the knife…’ She gave a cry of distress as she saw the blood seeping through the slash in the arm of his coat. ‘You are hurt…you must come back to the house and let me tend it for you.’

  ‘Be careful, Miss Henderson,’ Max warned. His face was a little white, but he seemed steady on his feet and able to think clearly. ‘You will get blood on your clothes if you come too close.’

  ‘What can that signify?’ Helene asked. ‘I insist that you come with us. Your arm must be bound, for it is bleeding a great deal. It may be best if you allow us to send for the doctor.’ She glanced at Emily. ‘Please take my books and warn Amelia. We shall need linen and salves.’

  Emily took her books and ran across the squar
e. Helene watched Max anxiously. He refused to let her assist him, holding his right hand over the wound to his left arm. She could see the blood oozing through his fingers and knew that it must be causing him pain, but he said nothing as she hovered, ready to catch him if he should faint.

  ‘Do not look so anxious,’ Max told her. ‘I have suffered worse, believe me.’

  ‘In the war, I dare say,’ Helene said. ‘I fear your coat will be ruined, but we must be glad if that is all.’

  ‘You may be glad,’ Max grated with an attempt at humour. ‘I will have you know that this coat was made by Weston. If he could see what I have done to it, he would never waste his time on me again.’

  ‘Oh, you are funning as always,’ Helene said, her throat tight with tears. ‘But you are losing too much blood…’ She grabbed him as he staggered. He righted himself in a moment, but she could see that it was costing him to stand upright. ‘We should go through to the back parlour, sir. There is a wooden floor and it will wipe clean.’

  ‘I should not want to damage the carpets,’ Max said and smiled just before he swooned.

  Fortunately, a footman had come out to see what was happening and helped Helene to catch him. Between them they managed to support Max into the house and set him on a wooden settle in the hallway.

  Amelia had come down the stairs. ‘Good lord! When did this happen? I was expecting Lord Coleridge to call before this.’

  ‘Someone tried to kill him with a knife,’ Helene said. ‘They stabbed him in the arm. It is bleeding terribly and he is a little faint, but had he not fought back, the knife would have entered his back…’

  ‘Not dead yet,’ Max said. ‘Sorry, my love. I have bled all over your gown.’

  ‘It does not matter about my gown, Max,’ Helene said, her throat catching with the tears she refused to shed. ‘We must get that coat off, Max—and bind your arm to stop the blood.’

  ‘The best thing will be to cut it,’ Amelia said. ‘The coat is ruined anyway—and it will be easier to bind his arm without it. I think we should attempt it ourselves now, and then put him to bed. The doctor may do more when he comes.’

  Max made a murmur of protest, but Amelia was in charge. She summoned her footmen, had them bring what she needed and bound the wound tightly, before instructing the men to carry him upstairs. He attempted to walk, but could not have managed it without help. Amelia followed the little procession with an anxious Helene close behind.

  Max had recovered his senses by the time the doctor arrived. He suffered the man’s probing in silence, and waited until his arm was stitched and bound once more. However, he was provoked into speech when told that he must stay in bed for a week.

  ‘I thank you for your attentions, sir, but I must tell you that I have no intention of staying in this bed. If Miss Royston will be good enough to call for a cab, I shall take myself off.’

  ‘No, sir, you shall not,’ Amelia said from the doorway. She came towards the bed, smiling, but looking determined. ‘You were murderously attacked outside my door and you nearly passed out before they could bring you here. You are weak from loss of blood and need to rest. I insist that you stay until you are feeling better—at least tonight and perhaps tomorrow. The doctor will call in the morning, and we shall see how you go on.’

  ‘If you will take my advice, you will stay here for at least a week,’ the doctor said and went out.

  Amelia lingered. ‘I know you feel that you will be a trouble to us, sir—but I assure you it is not the case. Besides, I believe that you should take full advantage of what has occurred. It is not my place to say this, but Helene was very upset when you were attacked. If you wish to break down that foolish reserve she has built up against marriage, you could not do better than stay here for a day or two.’

  ‘Miss Royston, I believe you are a devious schemer,’ Max said and grinned at her. ‘If you will put up with me, I believe I shall stay.’

  ‘I have learned that sometimes one must dissemble to gain one’s way,’ Amelia replied. ‘I am aware that you think this wound is nothing, for you have suffered worse injuries, sir. That much was obvious when we tended your arm—there were old scars…’

  ‘We?’ Max said and frowned. ‘I was out of it at the start and cannot quite remember. Do you mean to tell me that you allowed Helene to help you?’

  ‘She was there and helped as much as she could,’ Amelia said. ‘I am certain her feelings for you are genuine. It is her stupid pride that makes her say she will not marry. I may not tell you the whole, but if you were to ask her she might be prevailed on to speak. I know that she has been breaking her heart over something.’

  ‘You need say no more, ma’am. I visited Annesdale last night and he was kind enough to tell me everything. Including his own infamous behaviour, for which I believe him to be truly sorry.’

  ‘Annesdale told you—and you still intend to wed her?’ Amelia looked awkward. ‘Forgive me, I have gone too far, but I care for Helene’s happiness.’

  ‘No, you have not gone too far. I shall make her my wife—if she will have me,’ Max said and frowned. ‘Though I am not sure it is wise—it is obvious I have a dangerous enemy. I had thought the first attempt at Richmond might have been nothing more than an opportunist or even a mistake—but now I know that someone wishes me dead.’

  ‘At Richmond? Did something happen there?’ Amelia exclaimed as Max recounted what had happened. She shook her head. ‘Neither Helene nor Emily breathed a word of it to me. It seems clear that someone does indeed intend to kill you if they can. You must take some precautions, sir—but I do not think you can allow this rogue to ruin your life.’

  ‘I have no intention of letting the rogue have his way, though I shall need to take more precautions.’

  ‘You cannot think who your enemy might be?’ Amelia asked, but he shook his head and looked thoughtful.

  ‘I recall that an attempt was made to kidnap you last summer,’ Max said. ‘Gerard had you watched for months afterwards—but nothing more occurred. Have you ever wondered why that should be?’

  ‘I have tried to think of a reason, but can find none—none that satisfies me anyway,’ Amelia told him. ‘I have been careful not to go for long walks in woodlands, but otherwise I do not let it disturb me.’

  ‘It is curious, none the less,’ Max said and his eyes narrowed. Something had occurred to him, which he might mention to Ravenshead when he saw him, though he was not certain enough of his theory to put it to Amelia just yet. ‘I am not certain who would wish me dead. The obvious person is my cousin, for as things stand he would inherit the most, but he suffers bouts of ill health. I cannot think it was he—and I have never seen the ruffian who stabbed me before in my life.’

  ‘A hired assassin, I imagine,’ Amelia said. ‘Would you like me to send for your valet? He could stay here to attend you if that would make you more comfortable.’

  Max arched his right eyebrow. ‘I see I have no choice, but I shall not stay in bed above one day, Miss Royston.’

  ‘I dare say that may suffice,’ Amelia said and smiled. ‘You helped both Susannah and I last year, Lord Coleridge. This is my chance to repay you if you will let me.’

  ‘I think I should be a fool if I did not,’ Max said and grinned. ‘Now that I understand Helene’s situation, nothing is going to prevent me asking her to marry me—but I shall make sure that my back is protected in future. I should not wish her to become a widow before she is a wife.’

  ‘I think that is very wise,’ Amelia said. ‘Now I shall go and find Helene. You are bored in bed and threatening to get up. To do such a foolish thing might cause your wound to open. I dare say a little light reading might help. Helene has an understanding of books. She will find something suitable and bring it to you.’

  ‘How can I thank you, Miss Royston?’

  ‘By inviting me to your wedding,’ Amelia said and went out.

  Max laughed softly, then the smile faded, his own problems forgotten for the moment. It was odd th
at no more attempts had been made to kidnap Amelia since last summer. What had changed in her circumstances that might make someone feel that it was no longer necessary to kidnap or dispose of her?

  Max could think of only one thing. He needed to talk to Gerard Ravenshead about certain things, but that could keep for the moment. Max had two rather more pressing problems on his mind. The first was to discover who had paid to have him killed, for he was certain that Amelia was right—it had been a paid assassin who had tried to stab him in the back. Two failed attempts on his life had been made so far. When would the third happen? He was certain there would be another attempt. Someone clearly wished him dead—but why?

  Nothing had happened while he was at his estate. He had walked alone there without harm. It had been the perfect opportunity if someone had wished to dispose of him and yet no attempt had been made to kill him. Why? Was it because it was too close to home? Was the person behind this afraid of being discovered?

  A convicted murderer could not inherit property. If Robert wanted Max dead so that he could inherit the estate, he would not want suspicion to fall on him. The explanation made sense and there was certainly some mystery surrounding his cousin. Max could not make up his mind whether Robert was the sort of person likely to entertain murder to gain what he wanted. He hardly knew his cousin—or his aunt, come to that—but he instinctively disliked the physician. No, he would not believe that Robert could be behind these cowardly attempts. There must be some other reason…

  He thrust the unwelcome thoughts from his mind. When inviting him here this morning, Amelia had obviously planned to ask him his intentions towards Helene, and perhaps reveal something of her background, but Max’s visit to Annesdale had made that unnecessary. He had spoken forcibly to the duke, who now understood him very well and had made his apologies. Whether it would be as easy to convince Helene was another matter. Max was vexed that she should have believed he would be swayed by the duke’s threats, yet he understood her pride and her reasons for thinking she must prevent him from speaking.