Helene, page 8
“It seems an age since I saw you, Lady Helene,” David was saying warmly. “You are looking quite wonderful tonight.”
“Why, thank you, sir,” she responded, dropping a small curtsy. “It is kind of you to say so.” She glanced over her shoulder and, satisfied that Captain Longford was looking in her direction, she continued demurely to David, “I have saved two dances for you, if you want them.”
“Two!” David exclaimed happily, taking her card quickly to mark them down before she changed her mind. “Marvelous. I knew my day would end well when I rose this morning.”
“Oh! Did something nice happen?”
David, aware that her eyes were on Captain Longford, felt a pang of jealousy. “I received a letter from an old friend with good news, and then this afternoon I acquired Monroe’s horse. His bay.”
“Really!” Helene said in surprise. “However did you manage that, for Mr. Monroe swore he would never part with Pegasus.”
David looked slightly embarrassed.
“Don’t tell me he needed the money to pay his gambling debts.”
David nodded, his happy mood evaporating as he realized his blunder. It was simply not done to talk about such things.
“He will never learn, will he?” Helene continued. “I have tried to tell him so many times. Thank goodness you were able to acquire the horse, though, for I know you will give him a good home.”
Pleased that her condemnation was directed at Monroe, he felt his spirits rise again. “Of course,” he murmured. “The best.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Helene saw Captain Longford approach. She stiffened, but before she could move on he was at her side. “Good evening, Lady Helene. David.” There was no hint in his manner that they had parted on unfriendly terms. “Congratulations, David, I hear that you outbid everyone for Pegasus. I would that I had been at the sale, for of a certainty I would have made an offer. Unfortunately, I was detained elsewhere on other business.”
Helene ignored his thrust. Other business indeed. “I hope you don’t regret that fact that your ‘other business’ prevented you from buying the horse,” she said coldly as she turned to David. “As for my afternoon… She shrugged her shoulders as though in despair. “Quite the most tedious I have spent since I arrived in London.”
Captain Longford eyed her appreciatively. He found her attempt to snub him amusing, “I am sorry to hear that, Lady Helene. I would have thought that with all your suitors you have not lacked for company.”
“Oh, you misunderstand me, Captain. It was the company I found tiresome.” Without waiting for a reply she moved away. There, she told herself, that will show him I don’t need him, or his help.
Lady Ambel, who had been watching the scene with trepidation, was pleased to see Helene walk away. Regardless of what her husband said about the captain not being a ladies’ man, he certainly seemed to single Helene out for attention.
*
Later that night, as Captain Longford walked away from Waiter’s, he was aware of someone following him. Instinctively his hand went to his dress sword and he turned round. His eyes, accustomed to the dark, picked out the figure of a man pressed against the railing. Without a moment’s hesitation he pulled his sword from the scabbard and moved quickly to his left as the man lunged toward him. Catching his assailant off balance, he stuck one foot out to trip him before grabbing him about the throat with his left arm.
“Were you looking for me?” he asked grimly, tightening his hold on the fellow.
The man gurgled, unable to talk because of the pressure about his throat.
“Well, out with it, man. What is it you want?” Captain Longford stared down at the sorry-looking individual he held. A dirty cap covered most of his face, and his clothes were obviously intended for a much larger person. “Who sent you?”
The man struggled for breath. Finally, he felt the captain’s grip loosen. “I dunno, guv’. ’Onest I don’t,” he whined. “This nabob said there’d be a guinea for me if I was to follow you and let ’im know where you went. I meant no ’arm, guv’, ’onest I didn’t.”
“How long have you been following me?” the captain asked sharply.
“Only since yesterday. But you ’aven’t been anywhere’s that I would call interesting.”
“You’ll have to do better than that,” Captain Longford said harshly, cursing himself for not realizing sooner that he was being followed. “What did he look like?”
“I don’t rightly know, ’cause he were ’idden inside a coach. But…but ’e said I was to meet ’im in ’is ware-’ouse in Vauxhall with the information and to get my guinea.”
“More likely to get your throat slit,” Captain Longford muttered to himself, knowing instinctively that the earl was behind this. He let the man go. “Well, you may earn your money and another guinea from me.”
“’Ow would I do that?” the man said slyly.
“When you see this gentleman, tell him you followed me to Edgeware Road and heard me asking about someone called Lucy. Is that clear?”
“Lucy,” the man repeated dumbly as he massaged life back into his neck. There was no understanding the ways of gentry, he thought. The way they all acted was odd. “Can I go now, guv’?”
“Aye. But just remember, in case you are asked, I didn’t suspect I was being followed. All right?”
Glad that his ordeal was over, the man nodded again.
“Yes, guv’. You never saw me.” He grabbed the coin that Captain Longford offered and ran off, limping slightly.
“That should force your hand, m’lord,” Captain Longford said as he sheathed his sword. “And I shall await with interest your next move.” He checked his watch and let out an oath. That fifteen-minute delay had caused him to miss his meeting with Lord Ambel. Now he would have to wait until Lord Ambel returned from interviewing the woman in Essex, who had claimed she had discovered a child farm, before he could inform him of his daughter’s further involvement with the earl.
His thoughts shifted to Helene, and a reluctant smile flickered across his face as he recalled the snub she had flung at him. It had been a skillful thrust. “Easy there, my boy,” he cautioned. “More of this maudlin nonsense and you will find yourself in earnest pursuit of the lady.”
He came to a street corner and looked up to get his bearings. Surprised to find himself almost home, he crossed over and turned left into Wimpole Street where he lived. He let himself in quietly and was startled when his man emerged, straggling into his jacket, from the kitchen area.
“Nestor!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing? I thought I gave you specific instructions not to wait up for me.” His voice held a note of concern for the old retainer. The late hours he kept forced the old man to keep the same, except on the odd occasion, like tonight, when he knew he would be exceptionally late. Only then could the old man be persuaded to get some badly needed rest.
Nestor looked at him forlornly. He blinked his eyes, which were red-rimmed from lack of sleep, several times before he spoke. “I know, Captain, I know. But you’ve got a visitor and I thought it best to let you know. Don’t want to be giving you nasty surprises.”
“A visitor?” he queried, moving toward the salon. “At this late hour?”
“Just what I said to him, myself, Captain. But you know how Mr. Nicholas is. Thinks he’s still in Paris and keeps those bohemian hours.” The way he pronounced bohemian clearly indicated his disapproval.
“Nicholas,” Captain Longford repeated in astonishment. “Now what in the world brings him back to London at such an awkward time.”
“Said something about getting married and wanted you to be the first to know.”
The thought that the bride was Natasha crossed Captain Longford’s mind, and that Helene’s plan would come to naught filled him with a momentary relief. Reluctantly, though, he dismissed it, for he knew Natasha too well. She would never consider marriage to anyone who could not keep her in absolute luxury, and Nicholas certainly couldn’t. No, his instinct told him that Nicholas had come home for Juliet. He groaned as he realized the import of his reasoning. “He is in here?” he asked Nestor, pointing to the salon.
Nestor nodded. “And fast asleep with the better part of a bottle of your best brandy inside him. You’ll not be getting much sense out of him until morning, mark my words.”
“Thank you, Nestor. That will be all. I can handle this by myself.”
The old man shook his head in disapproval but knew better than to argue. Instead, he turned and shuffled off, his felt slippers making a quiet swishing sound as he crossed the carpet. “I’ll say good-night then, Captain,” he said as he retreated inside his room.
Captain Longford stood in the hallway for a few minutes as he pondered the problems now facing him.
Should he try to persuade Nicholas to wait until the earl had been forced to leave the country before contacting Juliet? It would be difficult, for he knew how stubborn Nicholas could be. Also, he could not give Nicholas any reassurances that the necessary proof of the earl’s nefarious dealings would come to light before the marriage.
A determined look settled on his face as he opened the salon door. “Nicholas, my dear friend,” he said loudly, “what talk is this I hear about you getting married?”
His question was greeted by a snore.
“Damn you, Nicholas,” Captain Longford muttered fondly. “It would appear that Nestor is right. I will have to wait until morning before you can confirm my worst suspicions.” He picked up a quilt that was draped on a nearby footstool and gently laid it over his sleeping friend. “Good night, you young fool.”
*
It was the third time that day that Lady Sweeny had searched Juliet’s room. A fruitless task, for if Juliet had left a note, it would surely have been found by now. She stamped her foot in agitation. Where could the stupid child have gone? A girl of Juliet’s breeding just didn’t disappear without a trace. And what could she tell the earl? That her daughter had run away rather than face marriage with him? Oh, wait until she found that ungrateful wretch, what punishment she would mete out.
The theater party last night had been a disaster, and Lady Sweeny shuddered as she recalled it. She should have suspected something was amiss when Juliet had shown such complacency about the seating arrangements in the earl’s box. Before, she had always managed to insure that the earl never sat next to her, but for some reason she had allowed him to sit beside her, not even demurring when he had inched his chair closer.
What happened next was still a little unclear, for Lady Sweeny’s attention had been directed toward the stage. All she was aware of was a howl of pain emanating from the earl before he bent down to rub his foot. The look he had thrown Juliet as he disappeared had been malicious, yet Juliet had appeared quite calm.
Now, thinking back on the events of last night, Lady Sweeny realized that her daughter’s demeanor had been a trifle smug. Had she been responsible for the earl’s discomfort?
At the earl’s curt suggestion they had left the theater halfway through the second act and, instead of taking them out to supper as originally planned, he had quite rudely put them in his carriage, ordering his coachman to drive them home. No explanations had been offered up for the abrupt change in their plans, and Juliet had professed ignorance as to what was ailing the earl.
“Really, Mama, you can hardly expect His Lordship to confide in me yet. Why, we are not even officially betrothed.”
“Nonetheless, something happened that put him out of sorts, and look,” she had said, pointing out of the coach window at the earl’s retreating figure, “he seems to be limping quite badly.”
Juliet had turned away from her with just a trace of a smile on her lips before she answered, “Mayhap he twisted his ankle.”
Lady Sweeny had had to content herself with that, for Juliet had lapsed into a silence that was only broken when she had announced her intention of meeting Helene the following morning for their usual walk. “Should His Lordship call in my absence, mama, please convey my hope that his ankle heals swiftly.”
That had been last night. This morning, as Juliet’s maid confirmed, they had sallied forth and reached the library without encountering anyone. Juliet had been in high spirits and had gaily dismissed the servant before Helene arrived, saying that she wanted to be alone for a few minutes, but to be sure and return within the hour.
Lady Sweeny rang the bell and asked the butler to send in the maid again. The sniveling wench presented herself moments later and stood cowering by the door.
“Oh, for goodness sake, girl,” Lady Sweeny said irritably, “stop your blubbering. I want to know if Lady Juliet said anything to you this morning about her plans for this afternoon. Did she, perchance, indicate that she would spend the time with the Lady Helene?”
The girl shook her head. “No, my lady. She just told me, like I said afore, that she didn’t want me to wait. And…and I thought she were safe enough in the library. I mean, it’s where we always go and nothing ’as ever ’appened.”
Lady Sweeny digested this information. How was she ever to discover whether Juliet had met with Helene without calling on Lady Ambel? The woman was such a gossip, word would be all over town that Juliet had disappeared if she confided in her. And if the earl found out the truth, then he must surely cry off, which would leave the Sweeny family destitute.
Briskly she dismissed the maid, her mind made up as to what she should do. “Not a word to anyone, Sophy, about Lady Juliet’s disappearance. If anyone asks you, you are to say she is indisposed…with…with a fever. Is that clear?”
Sophy nodded her understanding as she left the room. Lady Sweeny crossed over to a small writing desk and sat down. The answer was obvious, Helene was the person to approach. She would not indulge in gossip, or speculate about her friend’s absence. Indeed, Juliet may even have confided in her, and if that were the case, then it would be a simple matter to persuade Helene to break that confidence.
Quickly she penned a note asking Helene to visit at her earliest convenience. Ten minutes later, when the butler announced that his Lordship, the Earl of Radford was below, she went forward to greet him, confident that the riddle of her missing daughter would soon be solved.
9
NICHOLAS opened one eye slowly and groaned as he tried to focus on a lamp. He put his hand to his head and held it for several seconds before he dared open the other eye, but then closed them both as the light from the window caused an intense pain. He groaned again and turned over, putting his arm out to plump up the pillow. Only it wasn’t a pillow his hand brushed over, but the soft velvet of a cushion. Cautiously he felt for the edge of the bed and realized finally that he was lying on a couch, and most definitely he was not at home.
“Good afternoon, Nicholas,” a voice said. “If you look toward me, away from the light, it will be easier on the eyes.”
“My God!” Nicholas said thickly. “Robert! I say, old boy, I’m terribly sorry about this.” He made a feeble effort to raise his head, but it proved too much in his weakened state. He managed another groan as he fell back on the cushion. “What time is it?” he finally asked.
“Time you were up. It’s past four o’clock.” There was just a touch of annoyance in Captain Longford’s voice.
That piece of advice caused Nicholas to struggle manfully into a sitting position. “Four o’clock,” he exclaimed. “Why did you let me sleep so late? Dammit, Robert, I have much to do.”
“I have been trying to rouse you for these past two hours, my friend,” Captain Longford responded, “and I was about to resort to the use of a jug of cold water. However, I did not want to damage my couch, so you escaped such a fate.” He handed Nicholas a cup of steaming hot coffee. “Come, try and force this down. You will feel much better.”
Nicholas shuddered as he sipped the black, too sweet brew. “Ugh! What a penalty to pay for a night of solitary drinking.” He turned a bleary gaze to his friend. “I really am sorry about this, Robert, but my stump was paining me after the journey here and I thought a touch of your brandy would dull the ache.”
The look of annoyance in Captain Longford’s face was immediately replaced by one of concern, but he was careful not to let Nicholas see it. “The crossing was rough, I take it?” was all he said as he relieved Nicholas of the cup.
“The worst. I declare at one point I thought we would go down. I have no fancy to repeat that journey in a hurry.” He stood up and held onto a table for support. “I don’t suppose you can persuade Nestor to produce some hot water? I know I will feel better when I’ve cleaned myself up a bit.”
“It’s all waiting for you, including a change of clothes which James brought with him.”
“What a man!” Nicholas exclaimed in admiration. “I don’t know what I would do without him. Excuse me, Robert. I won’t be long.”
However, it was nearly an hour before he reappeared, and the only trace of his night’s debauchery was a slight puffiness to his eyes. His dress was immaculate. Crimson satin knee breeches, a deep gold brocade waistcoat with a frill of lace surrounding his neck displayed to perfection his ivory dress coat.
Captain Longford looked at him. “My word,” he drawled, “quite the dashing young man about town, aren’t we? That must be the very latest gig from Paris, no?”
Nicholas blushed at the compliment from such a nonpareil. “It’s nothing,” he said modestly, fingering his cravat. “Have to dress up, you know, for James has ascertained that a young lady I want to see will be at Vauxhall gardens tonight.”
Captain Longford looked at him sharply, not liking what he had just heard. “Sit down, Nicholas,” he said. “It is obvious to me that we have much to discuss before you go anywhere.”
As Nicholas obeyed, he wondered what was on his friend’s mind to cause him to be so serious.
“Tell me this, Nicholas, am I right in assuming that you have come home to rescue a certain damsel from the clutches of the Earl of Radford?”
A frown creased Nicholas’ forehead. “What do you know of that?” he asked in a peeved tone. “With the betrothal not yet announced, I had hoped that word had not leaked out about it. How did you find out?”
