by Anne Herries
It was the same for most of the evening. She saw Max talking earnestly to his aunt at one point, though neither the physician or Robert were present, which was rather strange. When she tried to catch Max’s eye, he just smiled at her.
Helene did not have a chance to speak to Max alone until much later that evening. The hour was late and most of the ladies had decided to go up. Helene went to say goodnight to the gentlemen and Max drew her aside for a moment.
‘I am sorry we have had no time to ourselves today,’ he said. ‘Perhaps I may take you for a little drive in the morning?’
‘Yes, please,’ she told him. ‘I have something I wish to say to you.’
‘Is it urgent, Helene?’
‘Yes, it is—or it may be.’
‘Then you must tell me now.’ His gaze narrowed. ‘I can see that you are distressed.’
‘I hardly know how to say this, but it concerns something your aunt told me about Robert.’
Max frowned. ‘Yes, this is important. Tell me exactly what she said to you, Helene.’
Helene repeated the warning almost word for word and Max was silent for a moment. ‘It seemed strange for I cannot think that the young man I met yesterday would do anything to harm me.’
‘No, he would not,’ Max replied. ‘But there may be more to this than we yet know.’
‘Surely she would not lie about her own son and yet…’ Helene shook her head. ‘It is puzzling.’
‘I believe I may begin to see what is happening here,’ Max told her. ‘However, it may be as well to heed her warning, my love.’
‘Max, you do not think…?’ Helene was shocked. ‘He would not…’
‘I warned you that there might be danger. Would you wish to leave?’
‘Certainly not! I shall do whatever you tell me, Max—but I shall not leave you.’
‘You are quite certain?’
‘Yes, quite certain.’
‘Very well.’ His eyes seemed to burn into her. ‘I cannot wait for the morning. I want you to myself so that I can kiss you, my darling—but it would have been rude to leave our guests on the very day they arrived. By the morning they will have found their own amusements, and many will not rise before noon. If we leave at nine thirty, we shall be back before anyone knows we have gone.’
‘Yes, we shall,’ Helene said. ‘I shall look forward to it.’ She took a reluctant leave of him.
Helene was thoughtful, a little restless as she undressed, for the mystery had deepened. Why should Robert’s mother warn her to be careful of her son? Was she trying to point the finger of blame? Oh, it was all so disturbing and strange! It was difficult to know who could be trusted.
After she had dismissed her maid, she blew out her candle, drew back the curtains and sat by the window looking out. At first there was little she could see, for the moon was shadowed, but as the clouds moved away she saw its silvery light touch bushes, trees and statutes. She was gazing at what she thought might be the statue of a man when it moved. Helene was at first startled, then her interest was caught as the man came towards the house. Now she could see that he was wearing breeches, but no shirt, which was why he had appeared to be a statue in the moonlight. She leaned forward and her movement seemed to attract his attention. He peered up at her window, clearly straining to see her.
‘Helene…’ he called softly. ‘Miss Henderson…come down, please. I must warn you.’
Helene shivered, for she was certain that the pale torso she could see must belong to Robert Heronsdale. His face had seemed very pale when they met in the gardens and instinct told her that it was he. She did not answer him, for his mother’s warning was echoing in her mind. Besides, it was most improper of him to be wandering about the countryside without his shirt—especially outside the bedroom window of his cousin’s fiancée!
‘It is a matter of life and death,’ Robert called. ‘I am trying to help you…’
Helene stood up, still hesitating. As she wondered whether to open the window wider and call down to him, another man came from the shadows suddenly and grabbed Robert from behind. There was a short tussle and then Robert seemed to collapse into his arms. The newcomer hoisted Robert over his shoulder and retreated into the bushes.
Helene shivered. If she had not witnessed the whole with her own eyes, she would not have believed it. How could anyone overpower a young man so easily? And why would they do such a thing?
She frowned as she retreated to her bed and sat down. Her thoughts were confused as she tried to work out what she had just seen. She was uncertain of what she ought to do, because she could not be sure what had happened. It was such a shocking thing to happen! Either Robert had been kidnapped or…he had been controlled by the physician.
Helene’s mind was beginning to work out a theory based on the warning that Mrs Heronsdale had given her earlier that day. She had told her that Robert had taken a liking to her and that she was to be careful because Robert sometimes became excitable. What was that supposed to mean…unless…but that was too horrid!
Helene’s mind veered away from what she had just pieced together. It would fit in with what Max had told her about his cousin being ill at times…and his absence that evening. If perhaps he were not quite as he ought to be…and that when one of his…mad fits was upon him, he attacked young ladies.
No, it was too awful! Helene did not wish to believe such a thing. She admitted that the young man had been a little intense when they met in the gardens, but insane… No! She could not think it. His manner when he called to her outside her window had certainly been urgent, but she would not have said he was in a mad fit. Yet his mother’s words had been intended to make her wary of him.
Oh, how horrible it all was! She would not have taken so much notice had not Robert cried out that it was a matter of life and death. Someone had tried to kill Max twice, and his cousin was his heir. The finger of blame pointed in Robert’s direction, so why did Helene feel that something terrible had just happened?
She could not simply retire to bed and let this thing go unnoticed. She must speak to Max immediately.
Putting on a thick wrapping gown and a pair of slippers, Helene took her candle and went downstairs in search of Max. She did not know if he would have retired yet. If he had done so, she would have to ask the hall porter to fetch him, because he ought to know what was going on.
‘Mrs Heronsdale informed me this evening that Robert has gone missing,’ Max told his friends as they sat together in the library drinking a last nightcap. ‘She says that it has happened half a dozen times in the last six months. He is—she says—of a nervous disposition. When he returns from these mysterious disappearances he is sometimes very ill and takes to his bed for weeks at a time.’
‘Do you believe her?’ Toby asked. ‘You spoke to him yesterday. How was he then?’
‘He seemed fine, if a little nervous,’ Max replied. ‘I told you that fellow Clarke had been keeping him drugged… If what my aunt says is true, it would appear that they do it for his own good.’
‘What of these village girls who have been attacked? You said that they had arrested some yokel,’ Gerard said and frowned.
‘Yes, they did, but it seems that he is foolish, but harmless. At the time the attacks in our village took place, he was with his mother—or so she swears. The magistrate sent him to a place for idiots. My neighbour visited him and is of the opinion that he did not attack the girls in our village.’
‘You are thinking that it was your cousin?’ Gerard asked.
‘I am not certain—’ Max broke off as someone knocked at the door and then Helene walked in, wearing a heavy silk robe over her nightgown. ‘Helene—is something wrong? You are not ill?’
‘Forgive me for disturbing you,’ she said, a faint colour in her cheeks. ‘I know I am dressed improperly, gentlemen—but I have seen something disturbing and I believe you should know about it, Max. It concerns your cousin.’
‘Good grief!’ Gerard said. ‘It was very sensible
of you to come, Miss Henderson—please tell us.’
‘I was restless because of something Mrs Heronsdale said to me earlier,’ Helene told them. ‘I blew out my candle and sat by the open window, looking out. At first I thought him a statue because he was so pale…he wore only his breeches—no shirt, coat or shoes on his feet, I think…’ She saw that she had their attention. ‘He called to me. He said that it was urgent that he speak to me because it was a matter of life and death…and then someone came up behind him. He struggled, but he was overpowered very quickly and went limp, as if he had suddenly been drugged.’
‘Good grief! Was it Robert?’ Max asked her.
‘I believe so.’
‘Thank God you did not go down to him!’
‘I believe I have too much good sense,’ Helene said. ‘And yet I think he may truly have been trying to warn me of something.’
‘Why is that?’ Max asked, his gaze narrowed. ‘I have been told that he disappears sometimes for days and when he returns he is ill. Apparently, he remembers nothing.’
‘Did Mrs Heronsdale tell you that this evening?’ Helene asked. ‘You did not tell me.’
‘She returned to the house and spoke to me privately after you retired, Helene. Besides…I am not certain I believe her,’ Max said. ‘She said she thought it her duty to warn me, but there is something not right. I cannot put my finger on it just yet.’
‘Do you think that…?’ Helene shook her head. ‘No, I am being foolish.’
‘You suspect her of something? What?’ Gerard asked, giving her an intent look. ‘Why would she concoct such a story about her own son?’
‘There have been two attempts on your life,’ Helene replied. ‘I suppose she could not inherit if her son were dead—or convicted of murder?’
‘Actually, she might,’ Max said. ‘My estate is not entailed to a male heir. It would go to Robert first if I died before we marry, Helene—but after that it would go to her, for she is my father’s sister. At least it would have done had I not made certain changes.’
‘Have you made Mrs Heronsdale and Robert aware of those changes?’ Gerard asked, his eyes narrowed and thoughtful.
‘No, I have not.’ Max frowned. ‘I could do so, of course, but then I might never discover what has been going on.’
‘You are taking a huge risk,’ Gerard said.
‘Yes, I know. That is why I asked you to take certain precautions.’
Max threw a look of apology at Helene. ‘Forgive me for bringing you to a situation like this, my love. It is more involved and dangerous than I imagined.’
‘The situation is not of your making,’ Helene replied. ‘Besides, I want to be here. If you are planning anything—and I am certain you are—I should like to help.’
‘You have already helped us,’ Max told her with a smile. ‘We do have a plan, but there is nothing you can do, dearest. Just be careful.’
‘What of Robert? Will you send men to search for him?’
‘I think we shall wait until tomorrow. I shall call on my aunt first thing in the morning and hear what she has to say.’
‘You do not think he is in danger?’
‘No…’ Max shook his head. ‘If what I think is going on is right, Robert is perfectly safe until I am dead.’
‘Oh…’ Helene wrinkled her brow in thought. ‘Yes, I see…of course.’
‘Forgive me if I tell you nothing more,’ Max said. ‘Go to bed and try to sleep, my love. I promise you I shall take great care. Gerard and Toby will help me—and once it is all over I shall explain everything.’
Helene hesitated. She would have liked to be included in their plans, but she knew it was unlikely Max would allow it. Whatever they had in mind carried a certain amount of danger and he would not wish her to be involved.
‘I shall go up,’ she told him. ‘I felt that I should tell you what I had witnessed, Max.’
‘I am grateful you did—you have confirmed something I was not sure of,’ Max told her. ‘I may have to postpone our drive until tomorrow afternoon, Helene.’
Helene nodded. She wished the other gentlemen good night and left them alone to talk. She did not think she would find it easy to sleep, because Max and his friends were clearly involved in some plot to make the murderer show his hand. The thought that he was in danger was disturbing, but she knew that she must do everything he asked of her and be as patient as she could.
Helene was up early in the hope that Max might still have time to take her for the drive he had promised, but when she went downstairs Mrs Hale told her that his lordship had gone out riding with two of his friends. Helene knew who the friends were and sighed inwardly. She would have liked to know exactly what was going on. The fear that Max might be in imminent danger made her restless.
She decided that she would take a little walk in the gardens, though she would not go out of sight of the house. The sun was shining and it was such a lovely morning that she had no desire to sit alone in the house, and most of the guests would not rise before noon.
Helene found a sunny spot on the lawns and sat down on a wooden bench. The warmth on her face and head was so pleasant that she was lulled into a sense of peace and well being.
‘Miss Henderson?’
Helene looked up. She had never to her knowledge seen the man addressing her before. He was a thin faced, dark-haired man, his eyes deep set and his nose a little crooked.
‘Excuse me?’ she said, standing up a little warily. ‘I do not think we are acquainted?’
‘You are Miss Helene Henderson?’
‘Yes, I am Miss Henderson,’ Helene replied. ‘And you are, sir…?’
‘I am Dr Clarke. You may have heard that I look after Robert? I need your help because Lord Coleridge is in grave danger.’
‘Max is in danger?’ Helene was immediately alert, her nerves jangling. ‘Tell me at once. What is going on?’
‘Robert has lost his mind,’ Dr Clarke said. ‘It pains me to say this, for I have looked after him for years. I love Robert as my own son, but he is not always as he should be. He has an illness that manifests itself at certain times.’
‘You are saying that he has bouts of insanity?’ Helene felt cold shivers down her spine. Looking at him closely, she was suddenly certain, ‘You are the one who grabbed him last night as he called to me. I saw someone take him.’
‘You were in danger,’ the physician told her. ‘Robert has been getting much worse of late, more cunning. He came to himself before I could administer sufficient quantities of the drug we use to control him during his mad periods. He knocked me on the head and then ran away. He will kill both you and his lordship if he can.’
‘You should be telling Lord Coleridge this,’ Helene said, feeling uneasy. ‘I do not see what I can do to help you.’
‘Robert has Lord Coleridge tied up. I searched for him all night and finally found him, but it was too late. Lord Coleridge is his prisoner. If you come with me now, we may still save him. Robert likes pretty girls and he wishes to speak with you. He will not speak to anyone else—if you bring another person, he may lose control completely. I beg you, Miss Henderson, if you care for Lord Coleridge, you must come with me now.’
Helene’s unease was growing. She was not sure what to do—ought she to return to the house and fetch help? Supposing Dr Clarke was telling her the truth? Any delay and it might be too late.
‘Yes, I will come,’ she said, making up her mind. ‘Where are they? Please lead on, sir.’
‘You must hurry,’ the physician urged. ‘When Robert is like this, he might do anything.’
Helene frowned, because something was making her more and more uneasy. Her instincts were warning her she ought not to trust this man, but what choice did she have? If Robert were really mad and would only speak to her, she must do what she could to save Max’s life.
She set off in his wake through the shrubbery. Her mind worked quickly. She did not trust this man! She was almost certain he was lying and it was possible
he was leading her into a trap. Glancing at a delicate lace kerchief in her hands, she noticed that she had torn the lace in her anxiety. She would use it to leave a trail for others to follow! She pulled a piece off and dropped it onto a bush, her fingers working at the fine material until she had another little shred that she could drop.
If someone came to look for her, she could only hope that they would understand what she had done.
‘Robert is missing,’ Mrs Heronsdale said when Max inquired after his cousin that morning. ‘His bed has not been slept in. He claimed to be ill when he came back yesterday, but when Dr Clarke went to look for him he had gone. He has not returned and we do not know where he is.’ She twisted her hands in distress. ‘Forgive me, Coleridge. I should have told you long ago about his disappearances, but I was afraid that you would send us away. I have nowhere else to go and without Dr Clarke…my poor Robert would end in Bedlam, chained up for the rest of his life.’
‘I am certain we can do better than that for him,’ Max told her. ‘He must obviously be confined for his own safety and that of others.’
‘My poor, poor boy…’ A tear ran from the corner of her eye and she dabbed it away with a lace kerchief. ‘I do not know what I would have done without Dr Clarke.’
‘You trust him?’ Max’s gaze narrowed.
‘Completely! I know he has to drug Robert at times, but it is for his own good. When you forced us to leave it off… I cannot answer for what he might have done.’
‘You will allow me to look in his room?’
‘Of course—but he is not there. Doctor Clarke is out looking for him now. Do you wish to search the house? We have already done so, but I shall not deny you if you wish to do so yourself. Indeed, I should be happy for you to set your mind at rest.’
‘Very well, I believe you,’ Max told her. ‘I think I shall not need to search his room after all. You should have told me from the beginning, but we shall discuss that at another time. I must organise a search for Robert.’
‘I pray you find him before he does more harm,’ Mrs Heronsdale said and gave a little sob of despair. ‘My poor boy…’
