by Abby Ayles
“Are you unwell?” Captain Standish asked concerned.
“My head is ready to split. I think I must stay here today,” Elias informed.
“Take care of yourself. I will pass on your apologies to the others,” the Captain stated sympathetically. “A headache is a nasty business.”
“That it is,” Elias stated as he squeezed his eyes shut momentarily against the throbbing in his head.
“I think you should be back in bed,” Captain Standish said with a small smile. “I will check on you when we return.”
“Thank you,” Elias answered.
He took the stairs slowly, each step seeming to penetrate his mind. Finally, he reached his room and collapsed on the bed and allowed sleep to take him.
It was past midday when he opened his eyes. The throbbing had subsided to a dull ache, but nothing he wasn’t able to bear.
“The house must be empty,” he said to himself as he got to his feet and began to walk from the room.
The halls of Dunlily were covered in paintings. There seemed hardly a vacant space to be found. The Baronet was right that his wife had a love of art. It was displayed for all the world to see in every possible corner.
There was nothing for him to do. All of the household was expected to be at the lake. He did not care to read, and there was nothing new regarding Ambrose Leeson’s situation. Elias was without purpose.
He wandered the halls admiring the paintings he found there. Lady Eggerton had excellent taste. He stopped by a particularly exquisite painting of what appeared to be a volcano filled with water.
“Interesting.”
“It’s Richard Wilson,” Helena’s voice interrupted. He turned to her in surprise. “The one beside it is a landscape by Claude Lorraine.”
“You know the artists?” he questioned.
“My aunt made me aware of them early on in my arrival,” she said with a small laugh. “I have a good memory.”
"It shows," Elias replied. The tension between them was gone, and for the first time in too long, he felt as if they were slowly returning to a sense of normalcy.
Soon all would be as it should be.
“I thought you would be with the others, fishing,” Helena commented.
“A headache prevented me,” Elias answered.
“How is it now?”
“Much better. I think I have pushed myself more than I ought to with regards to your father’s matter and it was my mind’s way of telling me it needed a rest.”
“I hope you got it,” Helena answered.
“Just,” Elias replied. “I expected the house to be empty when I woke. I am surprised to find you here.”
“I do not care to fish,” Helena replied.
“But you do love the out of doors,” Elias countered.
She smiled. “You have caught me,” she announced. “I knew you were unwell and was concerned.”
He stepped toward her. “Concerned for me?”
“Yes,” Helena replied softly as she looked up at him. “You took care of me. The gesture should be reciprocated.”
“Is that why?”
She faltered several moments before her head shook lightly.
“I did not think so,” Elias mused. “Why do you not tell me the truth?”
“Very well. I stayed because you were unwell and also I wanted to ask you, no, to thank you, for what you have been trying to do for my father. Your words haunted me throughout the night and I felt I must speak to you. Did you mean them?”
“Every word,” Elias said in a breath as his eyes lingered on hers. The green reflected there was rich as it should be. The dark of her sadness had subsided.
“What have you learned?” she questioned as she began to walk. Elias followed behind her.
“I cannot say at this time. I would prefer to have my suspicions confirmed,” he answered as he watched the graceful way she moved as she walked.
“But you have hope?” Helena questioned.
“I promise I will tell you everything as soon as I may,” Elias replied. “You are not alone in wishing your father freed. It is my sincere wish as well.”
“I believe you,” Helena answered.
They continued to walk, and Helena introduced him to several more artists. They lingered by another piece. Elias couldn’t explain it, but the painting gave him a sense of loss and loneliness. It was the remnant of some building amongst a grove of gnarled and desolate trees.
“It is so bleak,” Elias commented.
“This artist often used such imagery,” Helena replied. "It is meant to evoke a sense of loss and longing, yet the painting also tells us that all is not lost for this wood. See how the sun shines through the trees, faintly but still, though they are barren.”
“I see,” Elias answered. “You are much better at understanding this than I. Is this more of your aunt’s tutelage?”
“No, my own. We have some of this painter’s pieces at home,” Helena said. A moment later her face fell. “We had.”
“What became of them?”
“We sold them,” she said as she looked at him. “Sugar and meat needed to be bought.”
Elias reached for her arm involuntarily. “I am so sorry, Helena. I wish I could have helped.”
“Helena?”
Elias turned to find Beatrice glaring at them. He followed her eyes to where his hand rested upon Helena’s arm. He quickly removed it.
"Come, Helena," Beatrice demanded as she strode toward them and grabbed Helena by the arm.
“Wait, Beatrice,” Helena tried to explain but her sister refused to listen.
“Our father’s trial is in three weeks,” she blurted out suddenly and all present fell silent.
“What?” Helena finally found the words to speak. “So soon?”
“We could only thank God that is has been this long in coming. He might have been tried already if not for some delays.”
Helena turned to Elias. He did not speak. He knew of the delays they spoke of, his father had arranged them, but there was only so long he could postpone the inevitable. It seemed his power to hold back the trial had come to an end.
“We must return home as soon as possible after the wedding. Father faces execution for his crime. Transportation, if the judge is lenient toward him,” her sister explained.
Elias’s heart grew sick with every utterance. Mr. Leeson would be hanged or, if fortune was with him, he would be shipped to Australia’s prison colony to live out the remainder of his days. What would happen to his family?
Helena turned to him. He could read the panic in her eyes.
"Come, Helena," Beatrice urged again. "Our father needs us and yet you are here with one of the men responsible for all of this?"
“Elias is not responsible,” Helena stated adamantly. “If you knew…”
“Our father told us to stay away. Why can you not give him what he asks? He has asked nothing else of us but this, and yet you still persist in defying him,” Beatrice said through tears.
“You do not understand, Beatrice,” Helena tried to explain.
“Helena,” Elias cautioned and shook his head. Beatrice was not ready to hear him. Only proof would satisfy her of his own innocence against her father and the efforts he had made on his behalf.
“Excuse me,” Elias said calmly. “I can see you have much to speak of. I will leave you.”
“Do that, my lord, and leave my sister and my family in peace,” Beatrice replied. “We do not need your friendship nor do we desire such friends.”
Elias remained quiet and did not allow his feet to falter as he walked away.
It was a terrible thing to be accused as he was, but soon he would have the means to settle all misunderstandings between them. He would restore Ambrose Leeson to his family and mend the breaches his imprisonment had caused.
He hurried to his room and immediately settled himself at the small desk near the window. He retrieved paper from the drawer and his pen and began to write. He needed to draft s
everal letters to his agents in London. He needed to see the Earl of Evertonham as soon as possible.
Elias spent most of the remaining day at his desk. He wrote to his father, his solicitor, and his investigator.
Mr. White had suddenly disappeared from the party without a word after Lady Alice had spoken to him. Elias’s wonder about the man was quickly turning to suspicion. He needed to find him.
Captain Standish returned and checked on him as promised, but Elias had no time to speak with him.
“How do you fair?” he asked as he entered Elias’s room.
“I am quite well now. You must excuse me, I have pressing matters to attend to,” Elias answered as his hand moved feverishly across the page.
“Will you not be joining us for dinner?
“I am afraid I cannot. My business is most urgent.”
He needed to get his letters out that evening. Time was precious and he had very little of it left in order to save Mr. Leeson.
“I will have something brought up for you,” his friend said as he left him.
“Thank you,” Elias answered as he continued to write. He did not look back but heard the door close behind him.
The last letter he wrote was to Lady Alice. There was yet more information she could provide him with, he was sure of it. Her sudden departure had prevented him from pressing her further. The lady was due back any day, but a letter from him might prove to hasten her return.
His hand ached when he was finally finished. Elias ensured each letter was sealed before he sought out the butler.
“Have these letters dispatched immediately,” he requested. The older man looked at him in bewilderment.
“All of them, Your Lordship? This evening?”
“Yes and yes,” Elias said. “It is most pressing that they leave this house today, do you understand?”
“Yes, Your Lordship,” the man answered.
Elias could hear the festivities coming from the billiard room. The men were more than likely enjoying their brandy and cigars as they played. Elias could not bring himself to join them. He returned to his room.
He sat behind the closed door and wondered what would happen if he failed in his endeavors. Would he lose Helena forever when it seemed that he now had some chance of regaining her trust and affection? Could she forgive him if he allowed her father to die?
The thoughts were making his head hurt again. He lay back on his bed and covered his eyes with his arm. There was a knock at the door a few minutes later.
“Lord Chatleton, I have your dinner, my lord,” a woman’s croaky voice called from the other side of the door.
“Bring it in,” he instructed without moving. He heard the woman’s feet shuffling about as she searched for a place to put his tray.
“I left it on your desk, Your Lordship. Will there be anything else?”
“See that I am not disturbed for the rest of the night,” he answered.
“Yes, Your Lordship.”
The food smelled delicious but Elias had no appetite. The fate of so many would be determined in a matter of weeks. Food was the least of his worries.
Chapter 31
“There is no stopping your pride,” Agatha chided as she approached Helena on the balcony, having come down the stairs for dinner.
“What crime do you accuse me of now?” Helena replied with exasperation.
“You will not stop until you are completely undone and us along with you. First Lieutenant Rock, and now Lord Chatleton.”
Helena’s heart faltered. “What do you speak of?”
“I speak of you and His Lordship in intimate conversation while all else were out of the house,” Agatha retorted. “Have you no shame? Do you think so highly of yourself that you could try to steal the affections of two men and not be found out?”
Helena’s jaw clenched. “You accuse me of shamelessness over a simple conversation?”
“It is the type of conversation and the intimacy visible in your stances. Lord Chatleton is someone of respect amongst my sister’s guests and you are not. Will you sully his reputation along with your own? I assure you that such an attachment will do him more harm than it would do you good.”
“You know nothing of my connection with Lord Chatleton. You have only just met him, yet you believe yourself an authority on his character and status? I think you are the one who has a problem with pride and think yourself far higher than your station,” Helena retorted. “I have known His Lordship since I was a child.”
“But you are no longer a child, nor does your family hold the status it once did. You are beneath him, Helena. Whether you see it or not, all else do. You are not worthy of Lord Chatleton.”
“And who would be, Agatha? You clearly have an idea in your mind of who is and is not suitable for others. Tell me. Who do you see as suitable for His Lordship?”
Helena’s anger was rising. Her cousin really thought so little of her?
“Do not play coy, Helena. It does not suit you. I am sure you are aware of the budding attachment his Lordship has with Lady Alice Mortimer.”
Helena had to stop herself from laughing. She could not blame Agatha for her beliefs. She had almost believed it herself. If it were not for Elias’s words, she would not have known the truth of their connection.
“You believe her title makes her worthier of him?” Helena questioned without mirth or emotion.
“Her character is above reproach. As is her father’s. You cannot say the same,” Agatha retorted.
“Agatha!” Arabella’s voice interrupted. She had emerged from an upstairs room and was herself on the way down for dinner.
“Arabella, I thought you were already in the dining room,” Agatha replied.
“I had to return to my room, and I am glad for it so that I could hear how you chastise our cousin like some servant. She is our cousin. You should have a care to her and her feelings.”
“You need not defend me, Arabella, though I thank you for it,” Helena replied. “Your sister seems to have allowed her pride and her fears to cloud her view of me and of Lord Chatleton, and I wish to correct it.”
“There is nothing to correct,” Agatha replied.
“I think there is. You have accused me of scandalous connections with two men with whom I have done nothing wrong. The lieutenant and I talk and enjoy poetry and share our interests, all in the company of a chaperone or in the presence of others. You seem to believe my monopoly of his attention is somehow a fault, but as I see it, he is one of the few amongst the guests who has shown any kindness.”
Helena took a step toward her cousin and raised her chin as her voice became stern. “As for His Lordship, he is of the best kinds of men. A man who would never unduly place a lady in a position of her reputation being called into question, nor a man who toys with the sentiments of others.”
“It is not him who I accuse…” Agatha tried to defend.
“I was not finished,” Helena interjected. “Our conversations are our own and are of no concern to you whatsoever. He is my friend, and has been for some time, and the intimacy we share is one you can never understand as your own feelings are for yourself and your image. Take care, Agatha, for I see a bleak future before you – a very lonely road.”
Helena brushed past her cousin and ignored her calls from behind her.
“Are you a fortune-teller now, Helena?” Agatha called in a shrill voice.
“No, but I agree with her,” Arabella answered, causing Helena to stop on the stair. She turned to where Arabella stood.
“If you continue as you have toward our cousin, I wonder at you being my sister at all,” Arabella stated. “My sister had a heart and cared for others more than her pride, yet the person I have seen these past weeks is someone I no longer recognize. Has the presence of a viscount and our peers suddenly caused you to go mad?”
“I was just trying to…”
“I don’t want to hear it. If I hear you speak to Helena in such a manner again, I will have nothing to say
to you. You will be a stranger to me, and unless I see my sister return, I have nothing to discuss with the person who now stands before me. I am ashamed of your behavior, as is our mother.”
Agatha’s head fell.
“It was our mother who invited Helena here, and yet you feel yourself above our mother and father’s wisdom to be able to dictate what Helena can and cannot do? Are you so high in this family that your will precedes all others’? My wedding is days away, Agatha, and I would hate to not have you present.”
