Capturing the Viscount's Heart

by Abby Ayles

  “By giving you money I do not have?” Mr. Leeson sighed and slammed his hand against the door. “Get out of here!”

  “Ambrose, please?” Lord Wismoth persisted.

  “Leave, I said! Guard! Guard!” he began to call to Elias’s shock. It was an errant word, a slip of the tongue and a simple suggestion, but it was enough to unseat Mr. Leeson entirely.

  “I swear to you, Mr. Leeson. We’re here to help. Whatever we can do for you and the family, we will,” Elias assured.

  “You stay away from my family!” Mr. Leeson demanded.

  His words were like a slap to Elias’s cheeks. Stay away? Surely he didn’t mean it.

  “Ambrose, you know Elias didn’t mean any harm,” the Earl insisted.

  “You stay away from my family!” His eyes narrowed at Elias. “You stay away from Helena.”

  The words went straight to Elias’s heart. He tried to explain, but it was no use. Mr. Leeson wouldn’t listen and, in a moment, the jailer was there to make them leave.

  “Ambrose,” his father tried again. It was pointless, and the jailer wasn’t having any more of his ward’s outbursts.

  “I think it best you two leave,” he insisted.

  They didn’t have a choice.

  “We will come back,” Elias insisted.

  “You needn’t bother,” Mr. Leeson replied. “I don’t want to see either of your again. Just remember what I said. Stay away from my family.”

  The jailer led them out the way they came, or at least Elias believed it was. He couldn’t be sure. The path was black from beginning to end.

  Elias had never breathed as deep a breath as he did the second he stepped out from within those walls. The air was infinitely fresher, but the stench still seemed to linger on him.

  “He can’t stay there,” he told his father as they walked across the courtyard to where their carriage was waiting. He’d never been so adamant about anything before.

  “I agree. His mind is at risk in there. What will become of Mary and the girls if he isn’t released?”

  “What are his chances if we don’t help him?” Elias questioned.

  “I would say slim if they have proof,” Lord Wismoth answered solemnly.

  “It's a hanging offense,” Elias stated as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “It'll destroy the family.”

  Helena’s face was the only thing he could see as he spoke. His stride lengthened, and he entered the carriage without hesitation. He sat quietly, his mind focused on Helena’s sad green eyes that day on the stairs at Balwell. He couldn’t bear to see her even sadder.

  “The house,” Lord Wismoth said to the driver as he followed Elias inside the carriage. Once the door was closed, it was only moments before he felt the small lunge of the carriage starting into motion.

  “We have to do something,” he insisted as he looked at his father earnestly.

  “We will, Elias. I promise you,” Lord Wismoth replied. Elias imagined the expression on his face matched his own.

  “Someone has to know the truth. Someone out there has to know what really happened,” Elias said resolutely. “I intend to find out who.”

  “How, son? We don’t even know where to start. Ambrose was of no help in his state.”

  “He was so changed,” Elias replied. He could see Mr. Leeson now, behind those bars, with the mad look in his eye. He couldn’t stay there. “We have to see the documents, the evidence they have against him.”

  “I will see what our solicitors can gather. They are, after all, our documents. Our evidence against him. I do believe that we have a right to see them for ourselves.”

  “I still can’t believe that Mr. Atkins went to the police with this before us. As our company’s accountant, he should have come to us first, don’t you think?” Elias stated. “Doesn’t it seem odd that he didn’t?”

  “Very,” Lord Wismoth agreed. “Why would he have done so?”

  “It’s a question that demands an answer don't you think?" Elias replied.

  “Driver!” Lord Wismoth called. Churchill responded immediately.

  “Yes, Your Lordship?”

  “We’ve changed our minds. Take us to Repington’s Goldsmiths & Jewellers.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Churchill replied. Elias felt the carriage change direction a moment later.

  “Let’s think,” he said as he leaned forward onto his elbows. “Who would have access to those document beside Mr. Leeson?”

  Lord Wismoth paused to think. “The accountant. You and I, of course, but we never saw them. Mr. White, Ambrose’s clerk. The purchasing manager would’ve signed off on the items bought and the sales of what was sold.”

  “What about inventory? Was it checked against the discrepancies? Perhaps the change in figures was due to someone stealing on the floor. An attempt to cover their tracks?”

  “Perhaps,” his father replied. “We would have to do a thorough stocktaking to confirm it.”

  “Let’s see to it today.”

  “Today?”

  "Yes, today. Of course today," Elias said more forcefully than he'd intended. He pushed himself back against the seat and pinched his nose in frustration. When he opened his eyes, his father stared at him blankly.

  He sighed, and a modicum of frustration left him. "I'm sorry, Father. I didn't mean to raise my voice," he apologized.

  Lord Wismoth gave him a small smile. “I understand what you’re feeling. However, I can also think of Ambrose.”

  “I don’t think Mr. Leeson understands,” Elias replied. “To hear him speak to us in such a manner. What this ordeal must be doing to him.”

  “I know, and that is why I think we should respect his wishes. I think we should keep our distance from him and the family. For the time being.”

  His father’s words stunned him. “What’re you saying?”

  “You know the precariousness of Ambrose’s health. Would you want to be responsible for him relapsing or worse? Do you remember how his illness affected the family at Balwell? What would it do to them now to lose him?”

  The thought was enough to make Elias sick. If Mr. Leeson died, it would devastate Helena. Her father was her world in many ways. She’d always held him in such high regard, and to see how she cared for him and the family during the financial scandal.

  He couldn’t think of it. He didn’t want to hurt Helena. He wanted to help her, and if staying away from her would do that, then he would. Despite the pain it would cause him.

  “I’ll respect his wishes and yours.”

  Chapter 15

  Her mother refused to leave the house. Everywhere they went, accusing eyes followed. Their servants were accosted by the servants of others, and they, in turn, brought back the news of the public’s opinion of their family. Helena could hardly bear it.

  One scandal had barely been overcome and now this.

  “Are you quite sure you’re up to it?” Mrs. Leeson asked as Helena dressed.

  “I am determined, Mother,” she replied gently. “I want to see Father.”

  The stress was etched into her mother’s face. Worry clouded her eyes. She was feeling the weight of this scandal acutely, and Helena wished with all her heart that there was some way to help ease her burden.

  “I do wish you’d come,” she pleaded. She turned from the mirror to look at her mother. “I’m sure Father would wish to see you.”

  Mrs. Leeson’s head shook dismissively. “I cannot go to that place. I cannot see him in such conditions.” She sniffled and dabbed the corner of her nose with a handkerchief.

  “Mother, Father needs you,” Helena persisted. She took her mother’s hands in hers and squeezed them lightly. “Please reconsider.”

  Tears filled her mother’s eyes, and Helena had to restrain her own at the sight. “What if he is ill and we cannot help him? What if he’s been hurt? I feel so helpless, Helena,” Mrs. Leeson confessed.

  Helena inhaled deeply as her mother stepped into her embrace and hugged her. “We have to be stro
ng for him. We have to show our support,” Helena encouraged. “He needs us now more than ever.”

  “What if I fall apart? I couldn’t bear him to see me like that when he’s in such a place,” Mrs. Leeson wept.

  "Then you must steel yourself before. Father needs you, Mother. We have to be there for him.”

  “What will people say?”

  “They may say what they like, I assure you,” Helena said firmly. “We cannot allow the words of others to dictate our lives. Father is innocent of this crime and it will be proved in time. I’m sure of it.”

  “And until then?”

  “Until then, we walk with our heads high, as he has always said, and we face society, knowing the truth in our hearts,” Helena replied. She looked at her mother gently. “We must, or they will think that we believe such lies.”

  Her mother nodded. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right.”

  “Then will you join us?” Helena asked again. She was hopeful that this time her mother would agree.

  “Will you hold the carriage until I’ve gathered my things?” Mrs. Leeson asked.

  “Of course. I’ll tell Beatrice.”

  Helena left her room to find her sister, while her mother retreated to her own to ready herself for their visit.

  “Bea?” Helena called as she searched for her sister. She wasn’t in her room as expected, nor was she in the entertainment room. Helena went downstairs.

  The house had become a sombre place since her father’s arrest. Everyone felt the unease. They all had questions they couldn't ask, and answers were not forthcoming. The primary of which was, what was to become of them?

  Despite the feeling of the house, the staff had remained with them. Mrs. Royce and Mr. Maypole were insistent that, come what may, they would stand beside the family. Helena was thankful for their loyalty. She hoped one day to reward them for it.

  “Mrs. Royce, have you seen Beatrice?” she asked as she met the housekeeper on the stair.

  “Miss Beatrice is in the parlor,” she replied. She leaned closer and whispered to her. “She’s been in there crying for the past ten minutes.”

  Helena’s brow wrinkled. “Thank you for telling me, Mrs. Royce. Mother will be joining us today. When the carriage arrives, would you have Mr. Maypole ask them to wait? And could you see if Mother needs any help?”

  Mrs. Royce nodded and turned on the stair to find Mr. Maypole. Helena went to find Beatrice.

  Her sister was seated in the corner chair, looking at a letter when Helena found her. The moment she stepped into the room, her sister wiped her eyes and hid the note.

  “Bea, whatever’s the matter?” she asked as she crossed the room and knelt before her sister.

  “Nothing,” Beatrice replied. Her eyes were brimmed in red and her cheeks flushed.

  “Do I know you so little that I cannot tell when you’re upset?” Helena asked as she peered up at Beatrice with a saddened look. “Or are we so estranged that you think it necessary to lie to me?”

  Beatrice’s lips trembled as she tried to speak. Whatever had happened, whatever was in that letter, had distressed her greatly. Beatrice was never one prone to weeping or sulkiness. She had a cheerful, though more sedate, spirit than Helena.

  “Would you not tell me?” Helena pleaded.

  “I cannot,” Beatrice replied before tears overwhelmed her. “Please do not make me.”

  Her eyes stung as she looked on her sister. She wanted to help, but if Beatrice was unwilling to share, then there was nothing she could do.

  “Very well. But remember, I am always here for you,” Helena stated as she stood. She stepped away from Beatrice to give her room to compose herself.

  “Is the carriage here?” Beatrice asked as she wiped her eyes.

  “Not as of yet. I got Mother to agree to come with us,” Helena informed.

  “You did?” Beatrice nodded. “That’s good. Father would want to see her.”

  “We have to be strong,” Helena replied. “She’s in a bit of a state about it still.”

  Her sister nodded. “It’s to be expected. Don’t worry. I will be composed before we have to leave.”

  Helena nodded silently. “I best check on the carriage,” she said as she turned from the room. Beatrice didn’t stop her.

  What could’ve upset Beatrice so? Who had written? It was clearly not about their father or she would’ve shared it. What secret did her sister have?

  “Miss?” Mr. Maypole called as he walked the corridor towards her.

  “Yes?”

  “Carriage is here, miss.”

  Helena nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Maypole. We shall be out in a few moments.”

  “I’ve already told the driver to wait on you,” Mr. Maypole replied.

  “Thank you,” Helena said with a smile. “I’ll go check on Mother.”

  A few minutes later, they were standing in the hall, tying their cloaks about their necks as they prepared to leave.

  Her mother gripped Beatrice’s arm as the front door was opened.

  “All is well, Mother,” Beatrice assured. Her voice still sounded hoarse from crying, but she hid it well. She led their mother to the carriage while Helena followed.

  “Give the master my regards,” Mrs. Royce said as she was leaving.

  “All of our regards,” Mr. Maypole added. “Tell him we wish him home soon.”

  “Thank you. I’m sure he will happy to hear it,” Helena replied. She gave them a small smile before turning to leave.

  The moment she stepped outside, eyes were upon her. She could feel them. She looked about and saw several women turning to each other to whisper. Helena raised her chin and walked to the carriage.

  The ride to Newgate Prison felt like an eternity. Helena supposed it was because it was the last place she ever wanted to see. The prison seemed larger than life as they approached it. Like some fortress in a gothic novel, where those who entered never returned.

  Her mother clasped her hand. “Helena,” Mrs. Leeson said as she stared out the window.

  Beatrice reached across the space to cover their mother’s hand in hers. “It will be alright. You must do this for Father.”

  There was no further conversation. Her mother took several deep breaths to calm herself. They all did.

  The smell was noxious. They covered their noses with their handkerchiefs as they were led down to the cell where her father was housed. It was a maze, clearly designed that only the jailers could find their way, while the prisoners were kept at a loss.

  “He’s in here,” the man replied coldly. “You’d do well not to leave this place until I come to fetch you. You hear me?”

  They nodded in unison. “Of course,” Helena replied. Did he really believe they wanted to go wandering about such a frightful place?

  “Who’s there?” a hoarse voice called over a cough.

  “Ambrose?” Mrs. Leeson’s shaky voice replied.

  “Mary?”

  A moment later her father’s face appeared behind the bars. Her mother sucked in a ragged breath at the shock of his appearance.

  “What has happened to you?” Mrs. Leeson cried as she clasped his hands and kissed them through the bars. They were dirty, and his nails torn.

  The man before her looked nothing of her father. His hair had turned even whiter since their last visit a week ago. If this continued, he would have a head of white within a fortnight.

  Her father prided himself on his youthfulness, despite his age. Now he looked even older. He was tired, and his face drawn. It hurt to see the man she loved in such a state.

  “I thought never to see you,” Mr. Leeson said to her mother. “The girls always came without you.”

  “I’m sorry, my love,” her mother replied.

  “Hush now, I know it was too much for you,” he replied. “I’m glad you’re here now.”

  Her mother nodded.

  “Beatrice? Helena?” Mr. Leeson called. They each stepped forward in turn and touched his hand.

/>   “Father,” Beatrice spoke up first. “How are you?”

  “I swear they plan to starve me,” he replied. “But I’m doing as well as can be expected.”

  “I will speak to the jailer,” Helena insisted.