Capturing the Viscount's Heart

by Abby Ayles

  “Why don’t you give up, friend?” Elias questioned. “Would you lose your fortune to my father?”

  “I will not concede defeat until the game has been won,” Baron Glourich answered jovially.

  “You are a gambler,” Thom teased.

  “No, you are,” Baron Glourich countered. “You made that investment. That was gambling. You should’ve known better.”

  Elias wished Baron Glourich hadn’t said anything, but the subject had been broached and there was no turning back.

  “It wasn’t a gamble,” Thom replied angrily. “I was given information from someone I believed above reproach and knowledgeable in these matters. He assured me, and many of us, that the investment was sound. What did I know of it?”

  “You should’ve taken a hint from Elias. He wasn’t so easily won by your earnest enthusiasm.”

  His father turned to him.

  “Gentlemen, let’s get back to the game,” he urged. Thom would have none of it.

  “I was robbed! Do you have any idea how much I lost? How much we all lost? Tens of thousands of pounds. Robert Riddle lost his life’s savings. Malcolm Tate as well. Who knows how many others lost their shirts due to Ambrose Leeson’s poor judgment.”

  Frederick Porter, who had remained silent up to that point interjected, “It could’ve all been avoided if you’d waited a while. It was your eagerness for a quick profit.”

  “Are you trying to blame us for this?” Thom bellowed. “My mother has lost ten thousand pounds because of him.”

  “I am sorry for your mother, but a great many people lost a great deal,” Frederick continued. “All of it due to a lack of prudence and sound judgment.”

  Though Elias appreciated Frederick’s view and his willingness to assign blame to the proper parties, he did wish he’d chosen an alternate means of expressing his beliefs. Presently, he was only stoking the fire of Thom’s anger.

  “Lack of judgment? Prudence?” Thom scoffed. “Tell me if you see a lack in judgment when all that is presented seems sound. Do you think I would've involved my mother if I had any inclination that there was something amiss?”

  “Of course not,” Baron Glourich replied. “None of us believe that. The whole investment was a farce.”

  It was a difficult thing to hear his friend so enraged and hurt, but it didn’t erase the fact that the problem was not entirely of Mr. Leeson’s doing.

  Elias stepped toward Thom. “Thom,” he said calmly as he laid a hand gently on his shoulder.

  His friend breathed deeply. Elias could see the anger in his eyes. Even as he tried to calm himself, it lingered. He squeezed his shoulder to assure him. It would be all right. In time, this would all be forgotten, but for the moment, they had to make the best of it.

  “Forgive me, gentlemen. I forgot myself for a moment,” Thom replied as he regained his composure. He set his glass aside. “Perhaps I have indulged too much this evening.”

  “It is my fault,” Frederick answered. “I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

  “There is no fault for speaking truth,” Thom answered. “I was eager, as we all were, and the investment seemed sound. We had faith in Mr. Leeson and his words. We made a mistake.”

  “Speculation is an uncertain business not for the faint of heart,” Elias’s father stated from where he stood across the room. “One can never be sure of the outcome.”

  Elias had almost forgotten his presence in the tumult of Thom’s outburst.

  “Would you excuse me, gentlemen?” Elias said.

  “Of course,” his friends replied almost in unison.

  Elias turned to his father. He would leave the placating to him for the moment. Elias needed some air.

  He walked from the billiard room quickly, but took his time once he was outside. He didn’t need to rush his return. The longer he had to allow his father to calm the emotions he had just left behind, the better.

  Elias’s feet took him where they would. His mind was full. The anger of his friend and the illness of a man he considered an uncle plagued his mind. Then, there was Helena.

  He hadn’t realized where he was until the sound of weeping caught his ears. He looked about him, and there in the shadow of the stairs, was Helena herself.

  “Helena?” he called as he rushed to her aid. He held her. “Helena, what is the matter? Is it your father?”

  She sobbed into his chest. “His condition is unchanged. My mother can’t stop crying and Beatrice is beside herself with worry. I’m trying to be strong, but I’m weak,” she admitted.

  “Here,” he said as he ushered her to the stairs and helped her sit. His arm wound around her shoulder as she rested against his chest. He could smell the fragrance of her hair. It was lavender from the flowers Mrs. Ruskin had the maid adding to the basin water in their rooms every morning.

  “What are we to do?” she asked bitterly. “What if Father doesn't recover? What if Mother –”

  “Hush,” Elias said gently. His heart wrenched at the sound of her tears. It had been years since she had cause to weep upon his shoulder. Then she had been a girl, but now she was the woman who stirred emotions in him that he had never felt before.

  She fit against him naturally. He could feel the slenderness of her shoulders and the erratic nature of her breaths. Elias wanted to protect her. He wanted to help her.

  “Your father will recover, and your mother will endure. I assure you. I will see to it. You and Beatrice are not alone. My father and I will support you however we can.”

  “Turn back the clocks and erase all of this?” she pleaded. “Return my life to what it was?”

  Elias couldn’t answer. He didn’t have that power, as much as he wished he did. However, he could do something about the future. He would find a way to solve her family’s problems.

  “Not even the Lord changes what has already passed. However, the future can be altered and fortunes changed. I do not know what I might do, but I assure you, that I will do my all in your service.”

  His decision was made.

  Chapter 7

  Mr. Winslow had arrived, and with him, several of his fellow solicitors from Banbridge & Holcomb. Initially, Helena had hoped one visit would suffice. However, since his first visit, the number of attorneys through the doors of Balwell Manor had only increased.

  “What could they want?” she asked her sister nervously, as yet another three solicitors joined the two already cloistered with their father in his bedroom. He was still weak, but he had improved enough to take visitors. Helena was still concerned over the strain and the effects on his health.

  “Come away, Helena,” Beatrice pleaded. She took her hand to lead her from the stair. “You will wear yourself to illness.”

  “I cannot help myself, Bea. Father is still weak to receive these men so often. I worry for him.”

  “As do I,” her sister agreed, “but he is not to be reasoned with.”

  A small sigh escaped Helena’s lips as she allowed her sister to pull her away, though her thoughts remained there.

  Who were all these men and what did they want? How dire was their situation that so many men of law were needed?

  “Is mother coming down today?” she asked as she walked beside her sister.

  “I’m afraid not. She still fears the worst.”

  “Don’t we all? Father has yet to tell us anything. He has spoken to the solicitor but not to us or her. How could she bear it?”

  “We must all bear it. Until our father says, we have no way of knowing what our fortunes hold.”

  Helena’s mind wandered. She recalled Elias’s words of assurance as he comforted her on the stair. His promise to give aid to her and her family however he could. She wondered how much of his help they would need and if it would be accepted.

  Her father was a proud man, it was known to all. He regarded himself and his family highly. He was not a man who took to taking charity, but one who preferred giving it. If presented by a reversal of fortunes so great as to unsea
t him from all he knew, Helena was unsure if he could accept the same kindness he would have shown another in the same position.

  Her stomach rumbled. She had neglected to eat and now she felt the consequences of that choice. However, her nerves were far too unsettled to give consequence to it.

  “Shall we take a turn in the garden? We have been hidden away upstairs for days. I could use some sunlight,” Beatrice suggested as they walked to the library.

  Helena nodded.

  The sun shone down in such radiance that it felt as if a new sun had been born while they were indoors. Helena raised her chin to it and closed her eyes as she breathed in the fresh, clean air deeply. She let it fill her lungs and clear her mind.

  Helena always enjoyed being out of doors best. It suited her constitution far better. “Can you feel that, Bea? Can you feel the warmth of it?”

  Her sister chuckled. “Of course I can, Helena. Do not be absurd.”

  She opened her eyes to look at her sister. Beatrice’s blonde hair was golden under the sunlight, and her fair skin looked pale from so many days inside. She rubbed her straight nose with a finger before sneezing. Helena chuckled.

  Beatrice was not one who usually liked being outside, and it showed. Helena was surprised by her suggestion of a walk in the garden, but it was clear that even Beatrice could only take so much of being hidden away.

  “Is that a new dress?” Helena asked. She hadn’t noticed it before, but now, under the light of the sun, the pretty blue dress stood out.

  “Yes,” Beatrice answered with a smile. “I had bought it in the hopes of wearing it one evening while entertaining. However, I believe our days of entertaining here are over, so I felt to wear it.”

  Helena smiled. “It flatters you.”

  Beatrice smiled.

  “I think we should get Mother out of bed,” she suggested as they walked amongst the foxgloves.

  “I agree. She cannot stay in bed forever.”

  “Will you convince her?” her sister asked as she stopped to admire the newly carved hedges. “I have tried, and she continues to refuse me.”

  “I will do what I can.”

  “She always listens to you,” Beatrice added.

  “No more than you.”

  “People like you better,” her sister continued. “The Earl. The Viscount and his friends. They all favour you.”

  Helena felt her cheeks grow warm. “I do not know what you mean.”

  “Do not think I do not know my own character,” Beatrice replied. “Do not think me so unaware of how I am perceived. I have not as pretty a face as yours or as sweet a temperament. It is easier to like you than it is me.”

  “That is not true,” Helena protested. “You are well-liked.”

  “Liked, yes. Still, there is a disparity in what others feel for you and what they feel for me. You cannot deny that, Helena. I am more serious than you, and have less tolerance for the unpleasant things of this world.”

  Her sister’s words were true, but Helena never saw them as a scale by which to measure her. Beatrice was her sister and she loved her, despite her faults. None were perfect.

  “Why do you say these things?” she asked as she stepped closer. She looked into her sister’s eyes.

  “I only speak the truth. There is no harm in it.”

  “Why do you choose to share this truth now?”

  “Because I see. You have grown, and you have much power over those around you. Your charms are greater than you believe, Helena, and it is the sweet boldness of your spirit that draws others to you. Even those of high station.”

  Helena was lost. What did Beatrice mean by that?

  “The Earl considers you highly. The Viscount, likewise. Our mother and father both take your advice on many matters, and your words have always proven sound.”

  “You are trusted and considered as well,” Helena protested. “Please do not put a scale between us by which we are to be measured. You are my sister. My equal in some, and my superior in most.”

  Beatrice’s hand touched her cheek gently. A small smile was on her face. Helena wondered of the thoughts that were going through her mind.

  “This is where we differ. Your sweet denial of things that flatter and promote you. You protest, which only makes you more beloved for your humility. I am not so humble. I desire my praise when it is due,” Beatrice laughed.

  “We all like praise when it is warranted,” Helena answered. “It does not make us different.”

  “My sweet sister, there is no fault to be had. I wish you to be aware of what power you have. You can do a lot of good, and I would urge you to do so whenever you can.”

  “Then why say these things?”

  “Because, at this time, we need you. All of us. We need you to do what you can for this family.” She squeezed Helena's hands. “I'm afraid you alone can save us.”

  Beatrice’s words haunted her as they returned indoors. What did she mean that she alone could save them?

  The summons to their father’s room had ended their walk in the gardens. Helena and Beatrice had returned immediately to the news that the solicitors were gone and their father wished them all to come to him.

  Helena did as Beatrice had asked and summoned their mother from her bed. Her sister had predicted that she would have better fortune in convincing her to leave the room in which she’d hidden. She was right.

  “Do you know what this is about?” her mother asked as Helena helped her with her hair.

  “I expect he wishes to tell us of what has been decided,” she answered as she placed a pin in her mother’s hair and then looked for another.

  “I have been so terribly afraid,” her mother admitted. “My nerves have been ripped to shreds with this matter. I feared for your father. I feared for our family.”

  Her mother’s voice broke as tears began to roll down her cheeks.

  “There, Mother,” Helena comforted as she retrieved a cloth to wipe her tears. “Do not upset yourself. Father is better, and nothing can be known until we hear from him.”

  “Do you think the news will be good?” her mother asked. There was a plea in her eyes as she looked at Helena. She wished she could assure her, but she could not.

  “Let us hear what Father has to say.”

  They walked solemnly to her father’s room. The disquiet amongst them was palpable, and none spoke a whisper. Their mother knocked on the door, and her father’s voice called for them to enter.

  He was seated by his desk. He was dressed in his chestnut double-breasted tailcoat. His hair had been combed and, by all appearances, he looked well. It was his eyes, however, that belied him.

  “My dearest Ambrose,” her mother said sadly as she rushed to his side.

  “Calm yourself, my dear,” Mr. Leeson answered. “I have heard you were unwell. Are you better now?”

  She clutched his hand to her chest. “The better for seeing you out of bed. I have been so dreadfully worried.”

  He sighed and touched her cheek gently. “I am sorry you had cause to worry. All of you,” he added as he looked at Helena and her sister.

  “Father,” Beatrice said as she moved closer. Helena followed her.

  “Sit, please. We have much to speak about.”

  Three chairs had been placed around his desk. Helena sat across from her father, while her mother sat at his right hand.

  Helena’s heart was racing in her chest as she waited to hear the news they had all been waiting weeks to know. What was to become of them?

  Her father took his time. He looked upon each of them in turn and smiled a smile so sad it made her heart break. She had never seen him so melancholy.

  “You no doubt know that I have met with the solicitors several times in the past days. I was eager for their direction. I sought the expertise of a number of Mr. Winslow’s associates for their opinions. I have now exhausted them.”

  Beatrice’s gaze turned to hers. There was anxiety in the depths of brown.

  “My dearest wi
fe,” he began again. “I owe you the deepest of apologies. I promised you a happy life, and have brought you such misery these weeks passed.”

  “It is nothing, my love. You are well, and our daughters are here. That is cause for happiness.”

  “Yes, indeed,” Mr. Leeson answered. “I’m afraid it is the greatest happiness we can afford now. The numbers are in. My losses are insurmountable, and my debts great.”

  A cold hand wrapped around Helena’s heart at the words. It was as they feared.