“It sits empty and brings me no revenue,” Haynesdale said. “I would be prepared to offer a good price for a reliable man to take it under his care. You know the stables and fields are excellent. The house, I confess, has need of some repairs.”
“Has it been empty all this time?”
Haynesdale nodded.
Nicholas’ thoughts flew. Southpoint was ideal, not least because he knew it so well. The house was too large for him alone, but he imagined he could divide it, perhaps even rent part of it to another family. It would not be all bad to have his friend as his landlord, for he knew Haynesdale to be fair in all matters. He might glimpse Eliza on occasion, which would be painful, but perhaps it would be better to see her when she was happily settled than never at all.
He looked up, still doubting he could afford it, but Haynesdale named a laughable sum. “You jest!”
“I would have the property occupied.” His friend smiled. “And I might appreciate first pick of any new foals.” The duke offered his hand and much relieved, Nicholas shook upon their agreement.
“I did not bring your winnings with me tonight.”
“I would ask you to keep them for me, as they will be more secure with you than beneath the floor of my room.”
Haynesdale laughed with him over that. “Fair enough. I have ordered the best of tonight’s offerings to celebrate your triumph. There will be beef and plenty of it. There will also be many wishing to congratulate you, and some of them might be interested in your new endeavor—but they can wait until we have dined.”
Nicholas could not argue with that.
Chapter 9
Helena was outraged by the injustices heaped upon her by her various wardens. She expected little tolerance or understanding from her aunt, who was so removed from youth to have forgotten what it was like to feel any emotions at all—but still, it was irksome that no one had troubled to tell her Mr. Melbourne’s fate in the duel that morning. She had been compelled to interrogate Nicholas when he finally appeared in the afternoon, after hours of anguish and uncertainty. It was appalling to be treated thus.
That said duel had been instigated by her brother, a person she had formerly trusted to defend her best interests, was vexing beyond measure. How could Nicholas issue such a challenge? How could he have fired with any attempt at accuracy? Ethan might have been killed!
The only mercy was that she had her wits about her, and had confided to Ethan that he might contrive to send messages to her with the aid of one of the kitchen maids. Kitty had brought her a note at noon—one with a drop of blood upon it!—and Helena had fairly devoured the instructions from her loyal courtier. He, too, had provided little detail, but the note proved that he was yet alive at least.
There was no question that she would meet Ethan as requested.
There was no doubt that she would flee her captivity to be with him forever. Gretna Green would be their destination and their future would begin with all haste.
Then neither Aunt Fanny or Nicholas could dictate Helena’s situation any longer.
The sole detail was that she had to escape the house without arousing her aunt’s suspicions. Aunt Fanny was going deaf and she was insensible with age, but she was not a fool. Helena’s escape had to be artfully contrived.
She took the bank notes that she had found in Nicholas’ room without remorse. He had betrayed her first, to her view. Helena had known for years that he kept letters from their father hidden there, and she often indulged herself in reading them. Though she had little memory of her parents, there certainly were days in Aunt Fanny’s care that Helena imagined how much better her life would have been if her parents had survived longer. She liked her father’s letters to Nicholas. They were filled with advice and amusing tales, and reading them conjured a clear vision of both the man and what her life might have been beneath his care. She had found the money two days before and left it in place, wondering about its origin and Nicholas’ plans for it—until this very day.
She knew, of course, that Mrs. North had cancelled their expedition to the theater that night, but Helena also knew that Aunt Fanny was unaware of the change of plans. There was a moment of opportunity, which Helena intended to use to advantage.
After supper, she put on her new dress and had Kitty arrange her hair, then descended to the front parlor where her aunt was writing letters. Helena’s heart in her mouth but she contrived to hide her agitation.
She would have to lie, but it would be a falsehood for a good cause, for Ethan and freedom.
Aunt Fanny looked up, her expression shrewd as she surveyed her niece. “The new dress favors you well,” she said. “Where does Mrs. North take you this evening?”
“To the theater,” Helena lied. “We are to see Much Ado about Nothing.”
“A most suitable play for a young lady,” her aunt said with approval, putting down her pen. She rose and circled Helena to inspect her as was routine, tugging up her long gloves a little higher and tucking the stole around Helena’s shoulders so that it covered more of her neck. “You look very pretty, Helena.”
“Thank you, Aunt Fanny. I very much like this dress.”
“How unusual for you to be content with any garment,” her aunt said with a chuckle. She settled into her chair again. “Have you met Mrs. North’s brother yet, the Duke of Haynesdale?”
And there it was, the perfect idea.
“Very briefly, Aunt Fanny, but he did smile at me. I would not wish to sound vain, but I thought his gaze lingered upon me.”
Her aunt nodded approval. “Good.”
