The Baron and the Bluestocking (21 page)

“Lord Delacroix was angry with me,” she said.

“He threw you to your almost certain death in a fit of pique?” Christian asked, outrage shooting from his rounded eyes. “I will see the man hanged!”

“Pardon me, my lord,” Mr. Wilkins intervened. “Let us make some proper inquiries.” He moved closer to the bed. “Lord Delacroix took you down to the river to propose to you?”

“Yes. That is right,” said Hélène.

“And then what happened?”

“I told him my affections were engaged,” Hélène looked into Christian’s eye; they were suddenly soft. Forcing herself to go on, she said, “He asked me to take a walk with him. When we reached the center of the bridge, he picked me up and tossed me over like so much rubbish.”

“That is all?”

“That is all. He was remarkably unemotional about the entire thing.” Brooding for a moment, she said, “You know, I have never been able to believe he cared for me, yet he began, almost from the moment I met him, to pursue me with the idea of marriage in mind.”

“Pardon me, Miss, but did you ever encourage him at all?”

Anger stirred within her. “No, not at all. Do you mean to imply that if I encouraged him that I deserved what I got?”

The chief constable backed up. “Not at all. I am only trying to get the entire picture here.”

He began to walk about the room, occasionally stopping to finger a Dresden figurine, a comb, a brush. “Did he know that Lord Shrewsbury was the object of your affections?”

“I imagine he guessed,” she said.

“Could the aim of his actions have been to injure his lordship, perhaps?”

Shrewsbury interrupted, “Do you not think that a little extreme?”

Wilkins said, “Either Lord Delacroix has the vanity of a hundred men, or he had some other motive. Did he have any reason to expect you to reject his suit, Miss Whitcombe-Hodge?”

“Yes. I told him from the beginning that I had received another offer.”

“So you were affianced to Lord Shrewsbury, yet you entertained Lord Delacroix’s attempts to court you?”

“It was not Lord Shrewsbury who had offered for me.” In anger, she sat up in her bed. “And I resent your attempts to fix the blame for this incident on me, sir.”

“Darling,” said Christian. “Lie down again. Please. I know this is trying, but Chief Constable Wilkins is just trying to get a picture of the circumstances.”

“Yes,” said the man. “I am wondering if the expedition to the river was made with his heinous act planned beforehand. I know this must seem another odd question, but had this man any reason to wish you out of the way?”

Hélène was about to say “No, of course not,” when a remarkable idea entered her mind. For a moment, she considered it. “Yes. Yes, except that I do not know why he was so set on it.”

“Hélène?” Christian asked. “What do you mean, darling?”

“He was very set on your marrying his sister, Christian. But I do not know why. Have you a lot of money?”

Her love looked startled. “As a matter of fact, I do have a fair amount. But I have never let it become a matter of common knowledge. It is the estate. It is the finest sheep country in Yorkshire. But I have never been terribly keen about farming.” He considered this. “No doubt it could bring in a vast amount more than it does if it were properly managed.”

“If money were the object, why would Lord Delacroix court me?” asked Hélène. “Why not an heiress?”

“There may not have been one to hand,” Christian said. “And, pardon me, darling, but he may not have intended to marry you at all. Merely keep me from doing so.”

“Do you think he has debts?” she asked.

“I have an idea,” the Chief Constable said. “I believe Miss Whitcombe-Hodge should remain safely here. We will maintain the fiction that she is drowned for her own safety while Lord Shrewsbury takes a journey to Town to inquire after the affairs of Lord Delacroix. If he has debts, it will be known. Probably at his club.”

“That is as good a way as any to keep me away from the blister,” declared Christian. “If I were to face him, no doubt I would try to take the law into my own hands. I thank Providence you were not taken in by his obvious charms, my dear.”

“They always seemed a bit too heavy-handed for my liking,” she replied. “Obviously, I preferred being rounded upon and lectured by one who disapproved of me.” She gave him the finest smile she could muster. “But what about Samuel? I am convinced he must be upset. Can you not take him into your confidence and enlist his aid? Perhaps he can watch Lord Delacroix and Lady Virginia while you are out of town.”

As Christian mulled this over, she had another idea. “Do not act any differently with Lady Virginia. If she and her brother are plotting, as we assume, she will now think you are bound to marry her. It may be interesting to see what she does, how she acts.”

“Very well, my love,” Christian said. “Any other instructions?”

“Just my sisters. You can trust them. Please let them know you have found me alive. Do not tell them where I am, however, as they might find a way to sneak out and see me. They might be followed.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Christian gave her a salute. Then he leaned down and kissed her forehead, taking her hand in his. He pressed it. “I can hardly bear to leave you, but the sooner I am on my way, the sooner I can return. I will come here straightaway, so I will lead no one here from Chipping Norton. Expect me five days hence, and continue to recover, darling.”

It was immensely difficult to watch Christian leave, and Hélène fretted much during his absence. However, her battered, exhausted body was in need of so much sleep that the time actually passed more quickly than she imagined it would.

*~*~*

“Darling, wake up!”

Hélène awoke sometime during the night of the fifth day, her headache much improved, to find Christian bending over her, his hand on her cheek. She had been dreaming that he was fighting a duel with Lord Delacroix and had been mortally wounded.

“Oh, Christian, you are alive!”

His brow furrowed. “I was never in any danger, my love. And yes, I am very much alive.” Leaning down he gave her a welcome kiss that caused her to throw her arms around his neck and pull him down beside her.

“Steady on, my love. We are without a chaperone!”

Hélène rested back on her pillows. “It is just so good to see you. Were you able to find out anything?”

“I believe I have uncovered at least part of the rotter’s plan. I sent off some letters yesterday that I hope will tell me the rest.”

“Is Lord Delacroix in debt?”

“It is not just mere debt,” Christian replied. “His estate is mortgaged to the hilt and the payment due. At this point, the bailiffs have taken all his possessions out of the manor in Dorset, and he risks foreclosure at any time.”

Hélène’s eyes grew big. “But what good would your marrying Lady Virginia do?”

“Turns out my man of business in London had heard some rumors. Delacroix’s agent in Town has deserted his client after deciding the man was dishonest. He has put it about that Delacroix has some scheme afoot whereby he hopes to take over the management of an estate in Yorkshire.”

“Yorkshire?”

“I have to assume that he is referring to mine, my love. I have written to my estate manager there, and also the Chief Constable, who was my father’s closest friend. There must be a plot afoot between my man in Yorkshire and Delacroix. I have been beating my brains trying to work it out.”

“Do you trust your estate manager?”

“I have been very delinquent. I hardly know him and have taken little interest in my estate since my father died.”

Hélène plumped her pillows behind her and studied Christian’s beloved but worried eyes. “Do you think it possible that he is cheating you? That somehow Lord Delacroix has discovered it?”

“That is the only conclusion I have been able to come to. The problem is my father trusted Sykes, my estate agent. They were friends. Sykes and he went to school together. But Sykes had no estate of his own. His father had lost it in a bad gamble. He and my father were close as brothers. I cannot imagine him cheating me. And even if he were, how would Delacroix come to hear of it? He’s from Dorset—literally the other end of the Kingdom.”

“You will unravel it,” Hélène said with confidence. “I will wager that your father’s friends will be able to discover what is happening.”

His eyes adjusted from their faraway gaze to focus on Hélène. She felt their scrutiny and was well enough today to be embarrassed by it.

“I look a fright, I know,” she said. “I do not suppose you are ready for me to reveal to the good people of Chipping Norton that I am alive?”

“You look good enough to eat, poppet.” He kissed her on the nose. “Although, I am not at all used to your being so quenched. When shall your fire return, do you think? It is not gone forever, I hope.”

To her surprise, tears rose in her eyes, but she managed a smile. “I am that weak, still. It is mortifying. I should like to tear a strip off you, but I cannot think of a reason.”

His eyebrows rose. “I am seriously alarmed. Has anyone had you out of bed? Have you tried walking?”

She shook her head.

To her surprise, he threw back her blankets and scooped her up in his arms. “Here we are. Put your feet on the floor and take a turn about the room.”

To her chagrin, Hélène required his arm. Her legs resembled jelly. They walked around the room twice and then he lowered her back upon her bed. “Have you been eating well?”

She crinkled her nose. “Mrs. Knobbs is very kind, but their fare is limited. Mostly meat pies, which are far too heavy for a person confined to bed. Perhaps, my lord, it might help if you left some money for them to buy some more provisions—a chicken for broth, perhaps. Some vegetables and apples.”

“I shall avail myself of the bed they have made up for me in the parlor, and go on a shopping expedition in the morning. After thinking you were lost to me forever, believe me when I tell you, Hélène, your recovery is my first concern.”

“But you cannot be riding here every day to see me, much as I would like for you to. Lord Delacroix would become suspicious. Keep in touch by letter. And perhaps you could discreetly send my sister Jacqueline to look after me. She will take me walking in the garden and cook for me until I am fine as five pence.”

“I will communicate the progress of my investigation daily by letter. And I will send the first one with Jacqueline.”

“Very well, Christian. Now, you must get some sleep.”

Leaning down once more he dropped a series of kisses on her hairline, her ear, down to her jaw, finishing with a short salute on her mouth. “I must leave you, darling. You are far too tempting.”

“Good night and good hunting,” Hélène whispered.

As he left the room, she realized that they had never yet solved the problems that lay between them . . . her teaching and his desire to be active in parliament, her desire to be treated as an equal in marriage, her need to be active in the fight for women’s education . . .

Somehow, all those things had become less pressing when she was faced with the stark possibility of death and eternal separation. Hélène realized her greatest desire was to be Christian’s wife. However, she knew herself well enough to know that her life’s mission would beckon again when she was more the thing. Yes. She and Christian had to have a discussion after he had figured out the more pressing problem of why Lord Delacroix was so anxious to promote the marriage between his sister and Christian. She believed he was on the right track and stirred with impatience at having to rest on the sidelines.

{ 21 }

CHRISTIAN WAS WELCOMED at the White Hart by a sober Lady Virginia. He could scarcely look her in the eye, knowing what she had been party to.

“Oh, my lord, where have you been? I have been so worried about you.”

“Urgent affairs called me to London. I needed to see the Duke of Ruisdell about the fate of Hélène’s sisters. He will be taking them into his care.” He spoke the lie with complete assurance. “Why do you linger here in Chipping Norton?”

“I have been helping out at the school,” she said. “I thought I might be of help to you that way. I am so sorry for your loss. I had no idea you cared for dear Hélène so very deeply.” Lady Virginia bowed her head.

“Thank you for your condolences,” he said, straining to keep the irony from his voice.

“Miss Hilliard is arranging a memorial service. We were only awaiting your return.”

“I shall ride over to the school and speak with her. Now, I must change out of my dirt and go see the Whitcombe sisters.”

*~*~*

He had visited the girls prior to his London journey in order to tell them that Hélène was alive, and was now happy to see them again. He looked forward to the day when the cheerful girls could live with him and Hélène rather than with a woman they scarcely knew.

“Lord Shrewsbury, how is she?” inquired the ragged chorus of Hélène’s siblings.

“She is recovering well, but she requires Jacqueline to come to her.”

“Tell me, my lord,” said Monique. “Is she as much in love with you, as you are with her?”

“I do not think that would be possible, but yes, she professes to love me.”

“Will she marry you?” asked Anne-Marie.

“She has had the temerity to compare my proposal to the unfortunate Mr. Darcy’s. However, I have hopes that one day, she will consent to marry me. We must get this business of Lord Delacroix attended to first.”

He told them what he had found out in London. Anne-Marie seemed uninterested in Lord Delacroix. She was distracted and unable to keep still. Finally, he said, “Anne-Marie, is there something on your mind?”

“I was just wondering, my lord, if you and Hélène are married, could we . . . that is . . . would you consider having us to live with you?”

“I was just thinking how delightful that was going to be,” Christian said with an encouraging smile.

“I believe I will stay in Chipping Norton, my lord,” said Jacqueline. “I should like to take over Hélène’s position at the school.”

Hope sparked in Christian’s breast. Here was a solution, if only Hélène would see it that way. Might she be convinced to give up her post to Jacqueline?