Capturing the Viscount's Heart

by Abby Ayles

  “Thank you,” she replied earnestly. “Thank you.”

  “Mary, Beatrice, Helena. Would you leave the Earl, the Viscount and myself?”

  Helena looked concerned. Elias patted her hand comfortingly. “We will speak later.”

  Elias watched as the ladies left them.

  “My lords, would you take a seat?” Mr. Leeson invited. Elias looked at his father. This wasn’t the response he’d expected. He had anticipated that Mr. Leeson would be pleased with the turn of events.

  “Gentlemen, I don’t know what to say. This is beyond anything I could’ve expected.”

  “It is nothing between friends,” Lord Wismoth replied.

  “Yes, but as friends, I need clarity on the terms of this charity,” Mr. Leeson stated. The words left his lips as if bile were on each of them.

  “It is not charity, sir,” Elias insisted.

  “Our families have been friends these many years. What have we not done for each other in that time?” His father’s remark was lightened with a small laugh.

  “We have not done this,” Mr. Leeson answered. “I am a proud man, as you well know, and one who faces the repercussions of his actions. I was able to bear facing our return to London and now you’re here to save us.”

  “Ambrose, I hope that you have not taken an offense to this. Our intentions were good.”

  Elias looked between his father and Mr. Leeson. Their eyes were locked and there was a war between their stares. What had happened? They had come to deliver good news that would help their friends, and now Elias was at a loss.

  “We apologize if we have overstepped,” Elias interrupted. “We would’ve consulted you but there was no time. We learned from our solicitor that the sale of the business and your house was going through, and that the sums agreed would never allow you to rise above this unfortunate bump in the road.”

  “We had to act quickly,” Lord Wismoth added.

  “We made the purchase knowing it would be accepted, and that this would allow you to continue working.”

  “In what role?” Mr. Leeson questioned.

  “As manager,” Lord Wismoth replied. “We will have to change the name, but you will be allowed to continue running the business as you have always done. However, we were advised that the change of name would be best.”

  “Given the current disgrace associated with that name?” Mr. Leeson retorted. Neither man replied.

  “Ambrose, your life can return to relatively normal,” Lord Wismoth stated after he gathered himself. “We can do nothing to settle the arguments of those you have injured with this investment, but if you should be found liable, there is hope for you to recover.”

  Helena’s father seemed to consider his words.

  Elias found that words failed him. Mr. Leeson’s pride was greater than he believed, and it had been injured by their offer. He had never imagined such a thing possible.

  “That company has been in my family for four generations,” he stated. “I cannot believe that it was I who made its greatest success and its greatest failure.”

  “You have not failed, Ambrose,” Lord Wismoth insisted. “Mistakes are made, and they are forgiven in time. And that is what you have now. Time.”

  His eyes were weary when he looked in Elias’s direction. Helena’s father had been beaten down by circumstance. He looked broken.

  “I accept your offer,” he said finally. “And I thank you.”

  “Thanks are unnecessary. I know if roles were reversed you would do what you could to aid us,” the Earl replied. He got to his feet. “Elias, come. I think it best we leave the Leesons with this news.”

  Elias got to his feet. “Until we meet again,” he said with a small bow as Mr. Leeson stood to see them out.

  They were almost to the carriage when Helena came running after them.

  “Tell me how this came to be?”

  He smiled at her and took her hand. Such soft fingers should never be marred by hard labor as they would've if help had not come to them.

  “I will tell you later. Now, go be with your family.”

  Chapter 11

  The parlor of their house was silent as her father paced. Helena watched him anxiously, as did her mother and sister. Something was troubling him, and therefore the entire family. Though he looked well, the physicians assured that he still needed to keep his stress to a minimum.

  “Ambrose, what is the matter, dear?” Mrs. Leeson asked as she set aside her needlepoint.

  “It’s the Earl and his damnable new regulations.”

  Her mother’s brow furrowed. Helena listened silently.

  “What regulations?”

  “He wants everything checked and triple checked. Reports made and sent to his offices every two weeks. He sacked several of my staff and had them replaced. It’s an affront, I tell you.”

  “My dear, the Earl is now the owner of the company. He has the right to change things the way he sees fit. His business practices and yours, as expected, will be different.”

  “I'm sure he means no offense, Father,” Helena added. “As Mother said, the Earl has his own business practices. They may be difficult for you to understand, given the circumstances, but I’m sure it is for the best.”

  “Best? Best you say?” Mr. Leeson’s voice rose with each passing word. “He’s treating me as if I don’t know how to run my own business.”

  Helena stiffened. What she was about to say may only prove to incite her father’s anger further, but it was nonetheless true.

  “Father, it is no longer your business. You must reconcile yourself to that,” she said softly. “The Earl has a right to dictate the running of his own company.”

  “Then why keep me on at all?” he bellowed. “Why subject me to such embarrassment? Pleasure? To have me in his debt? Why?”

  “Father, you know the Earl is not such a man. You are upset,” Beatrice interjected. She got to her feet and moved to comfort him, but he abruptly turned from her. Her eyes sought Helena for aid.

  “Father, please be reasonable. The Earl only came to our aid because of his affection for you and our family. He would never mean you harm. Surely you know this?” Helena attempted to assure.

  She left her seat behind and crossed the room to where her father stood by the window. He was looking out on the street with a scowl on his face. She touched his shoulder lightly, and he took a deep breath. She could feel the tension in him.

  “Do you think I revel in the thought that I have lost it?” he said to her in a low tone. “That others now dictate to me, when it was I who used to make the decisions? Do you think it doesn’t rake across my heart like knives?”

  Helena felt his pain acutely. Her father loved the company he’d inherited. It was a legacy he intended to pass on to the next generation. Sadly, he had no son to manage it, but he did hope for a grandson who would someday follow in his footsteps. That dream was at an end.

  “You cannot blame yourself forever,” she cautioned.

  “Then who shall I blame?” Mr. Leeson retorted. “Who was responsible? Not I?”

  She could not answer him. The self-pity her father was wallowing in was something she did not have the weapons to combat. Whatever she said, he had recourse for it. They would just have to allow it to run its course. Helena hoped it would not be long.

  “Ambrose, come from the window, dear. Sit by me,” her mother invited. “I’d love your opinion on this needlepoint.”

  “Needlepoint?” Mr. Leeson retorted in annoyance. “I speak to you of my troubles and you want to distract me with needlepoint?”

  “I was only trying to –”

  “Do you think the neatness of your stitches can help me? Will they correct the problems we now face?”

  “Father, those problems are over,” Beatrice interjected. “Or would be if you would let them go.”

  “How can I let them go? Do you not see what has happened? How we have fallen?”

  “The debts are repaid. We have not lost many frie
nds,” Helena replied. “We are none the worse.”

  Her father looked at her as if she were a befuddled child.

  He scoffed. “We are lower than them now?”

  “Who, Father?” she questioned.

  “The Earl of Wismoth and the Viscount of Chatleton.” He laughed mockingly. “When last were they here? When last did they visit?”

  “Father –” Helena called but was immediately silenced.

  “They have separated themselves from us. We are no longer equals, but subordinates. I'm his employee, not his friend.”

  Her father’s pity was becoming undue resentment. It pained her to see it. He was seeing things that were not there. The Repingtons were good people. Their friends. They would never look down on them.

  Her mother got to her feet. “Ambrose, you go too far.”

  “Do I? Or are the three of you living in blindness?”

  “The Earl has ever been your friend,” Mrs. Leeson continued undeterred. “He has loved you as a brother and treated our daughters almost as his own. He did not have to come to our aid, yet he did, and under reasonable condition. You retained management of the business. There is no shame in that, yet you would make it so.”

  “The debt has been transferred from many to one,” Mr. Leeson replied. “Don’t you see? We must repay them. We are debtors to the Earl and his son.”

  “We are no such thing,” Helena protested. “They would never consider repayment for kindness. Father, I really must stop you. You go too far.”

  “I agree,” Mrs. Leeson concerted. “They are our friends.”

  “Mary, I am an employee. Like any other,” Mr. Leeson replied remorsefully. “How can a man hold his head up under such unbearable circumstances?”

  “With dignity,” Helena replied. “Is that not what you taught us?”

  “Do not let your pride tarnish this kindness,” Mrs. Leeson warned. “There are few such friends in the world who would do what they have done for us. God forbid they should ever hear you speak of it now.”

  “God forbid they show their faces here again,” Mr. Leeson spat.

  “They shall be here,” Helena interrupted. All eyes turned in her direction. “I have received a letter informing me that Elias and his father are much engaged with other business at present and regret being unable to see us. They will be traveling to Italy soon, but promise to call as soon as they return.”

  “There. See. They will be visiting us,” her mother said with a smile. Helena could tell she hoped the news would placate her father. It didn’t.

  “Too busy to visit, eh?” he scoffed. “Travel plans? How convenient.”

  Her father stalked toward the door. Beatrice called to him, but he dismissed her with a raised hand.

  “I would be alone,” he stated before making his exit, leaving the three women to wonder.

  “I have never seen him like this,” Mrs. Leeson said sadly. She lowered herself to the chair she had previously occupied, but did not return to her needlepoint.

  “Mother,” Beatrice comforted as she moved to sit beside her. She took her hand and held it, rubbing the back of their mother’s knuckles soothingly. “He will be alright.”

  “How can you be so sure?” their mother questioned. “Your father seems a different man since all of this mess began.”

  Helena forced a smile upon her face as she crossed the room and sat at her mother’s other hand. “Father just needs to adjust. It must be difficult for him, as it would be for any man, to be replaced in their company. We know Father. It would be more difficult for him than most.”

  Her father was a man who thought well of himself and his abilities. Some might call him prideful, but it was not unwarranted. He considered himself a man of sound judgment and capability, and it was proven in his management of Leeson’s. Having lost what he had, was like losing himself.

  “Can I get you some tea?” she asked. “I believe Cook has some chamomile.”

  “No, I do not care for tea now,” Mrs. Leeson replied. She turned to her. “Will you check on your father in a little while? Give him some time to brood, and then cheer him up.”

  Helena nodded her agreement. Beatrice looked at her with a sad expression.

  “Mother, I’ve forgotten. I have an urgent letter to reply to. Perhaps Beatrice could look in on Father? She would do just as good a job as I.”

  “Of course she would,” Mrs. Leeson replied. “If your letter is that pressing. Beatrice can look in on your father for me. I believe I will take a rest.”

  Helena and Beatrice watched as their mother got to her feet and walked slowly from the room. Watching her go, her gait slower than normal, Helena could see the weight she too was bearing.

  “You eclipse me in everything,” Beatrice sighed as she stood. “I suppose it is natural that it should be so.”

  “Beatrice?” Helena protested as she moved to stand before her.

  “I try to think what I could do to help but there is nothing. Worse, no one sees me capable of doing anything,” she replied bitterly. “I want to help. I truly do.”

  Her sister’s eyes were filling with tears and Helena was at a loss.

  “If I could help, I would. If I could repair the damages done, I would in heartbeat. But there is nothing,” she wept. “I cannot comfort our mother, or father, and you do not need it.”

  “I do,” Helena replied as tears racked her breast. “I do.”

  They stepped towards each other with arms outstretched. They pulled each other into a tight embrace as they both wept. It was the first time Helena had allowed herself to cry openly before her sister. The first time Beatrice had done the same.

  “Will our family recover from this?” Beatrice asked.

  “We have no choice. Collapse is worse,” Helena replied. “We must bear through this difficult time, for it is short, I’m sure.”

  “How can you be sure of anything, Helena?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. But I hope. That’s all I have.”

  Beatrice sniffled. “Then I will hope with you. Oh, Helena, what will we do?”

  “Be strong. Have courage. No fear. We must hold our heads up and go on as best we can,” Helena answered. “Even when it is difficult.”

  She rubbed her sister’s back as Beatrice rubbed hers in return. They sniffled into each other’s shoulders and dampened the sleeves of their dresses with each other’s tears. Finally, their weeping abated.

  “Do you really have a letter to reply to?” Beatrice asked. “Or did you tell Mother that on my behalf?”

  “I do have a letter,” Helena replied.

  Beatrice smiled knowingly. “I love you,” she said and took Helena by surprise. “I do not think I say that enough.”

  “I love you,” Helena replied with a smile. “I know I do not.”

  “See to your letter. I will see to Father,” Beatrice urged. She returned to her seat and her sewing, leaving Helena to question how the changes in her family had come about. How had she become the one everyone relied on, when Beatrice was there? What had happened?

  That question would be answered at another time she supposed as she excused herself and retreated to her room. She heard Mrs. Ruskin speaking to Cook about the dinner menu as she walked toward her room. It seemed they would be having beef that evening.

  Helena's room sat at the rear of the house, overlooking the small flower garden of their neighbour, who faced Grover Square. It was tiny. A small patch of green in a forest of brick and mortar was all she had to remind her of the beauty of Balwell and Lendenbarrow.

  The rain had begun to fall, and the drops rolled down the pane against a sky of grey. How she wished she was at Balwell now. How she wished Elias was there to comfort her.

  “Elias,” she said softly as she rested her head against the cold glass. She thought of his letters and his careful penmanship. She thought of what he’d shared about his trip, but mostly she thought about the things she left unsaid.

  He missed her. Helena’s heart grew
light at the thought. He’d said the words in his last letter as he shared a hope that he would come to see her soon or that business would permit him time to call on her. She wished the same.

  She touched her cheek as she recalled the way he had brushed her tears away and how gentle his thumb was against her skin. If she could’ve held onto that hand, she would’ve. She would’ve kissed it and asked him to wipe away all of her tears, but it wasn’t proper.