Our party went off extremely well. There were
many solicitudes, alarms & vexations beforehand,
of course, but at last everything was quite right. The rooms
were dressed up with flowers & looked very pretty.
—Jane Austen, in a letter to her sister, 1811
Chapter 25
The ball had continued until well after two in the morning and Nathaniel did not have opportunity to speak to Helen alone. He hoped she’d enjoyed herself.
At breakfast the next morning, she came in late, looking tired. Lewis’s friend Piers Saxby had stayed the night in one of the guest rooms but had not made an appearance. Nor had Lewis.
Nathaniel smiled. “Why, if it isn’t the belle of the ball. Good morning, Helen.”
She flashed a quick self-conscious grin. “I was rather, wasn’t I?”
She poured herself a coffee from the spigot urn on the sideboard. “No sign of Mr. Saxby yet this morning?”
“Not yet. He played cards until nearly two, and lost badly by the looks of it.”
“And Lewis?”
“I have not seen him since early last night. He disappeared shortly after he danced with you.”
“Did he? I suppose I was too busy dancing to notice much of anything.”
He winked. “So I saw.”
Arnold came in, carrying the morning post on a silver salver. Nathaniel took the single letter—soiled parchment, addressed to him in a flamboyant hand. He pried open the seal and unfolded the letter. It contained only four lines.
Such shy profits the chest contained
Where is the rest, I wonder?
Must I visit Fairbourne Hall
And rent the place asunder?
Stunned anger flushed through him. A chill followed when he recalled Abel Preston’s threat.“Your place. When you least expect it.”
“Anything interesting?” Helen asked.
He considered not telling her but reminded himself that she was a grown woman. “A threat from the man who robbed my ship. In rhyme no less. Apparently he’s figured out he didn’t steal all our profits after all. Here, read it for—”
Suddenly, from somewhere in the house, came a great tumult of slamming doors and a keening wail. Running feet and shouts. Nathaniel and Helen swung their heads around to stare at each other, then both lunged for the door.
“Stay here,” he ordered.
“I will not.”
Nathaniel ran out into the hall, looking this way and that for the source of the mayhem. Nothing.Dear God in heaven... tell me that scapegrace has not come here already.
Nathaniel ran toward the back stairs. One of the footmen ran from the basement through the servery and nearly bowled him over.
“Thank God, sir. I was come to find you.” In his obvious distress, the young man didn’t even apologize for knocking into him.
