“It was bad?”
“Terrible,” Nicholas said grimly. “At least they died immediately.” He frowned. “The horses had to be destroyed as well.”
“Goodness,” Helena whispered, understanding why no one had told her this tale.
“I doubt Father would have regretted it, even if he could have done as much. She was his joy and his destruction, but he would never have taken away a single one of her smiles.”
“Oh, Nicholas. I had no idea.”
He surveyed her. “Who would tell you such a story, Helena, when you are her very echo?”
But Helena had turned away. It would be one thing to suffer herself as a result of one of her choices, but to cause injury to another—to a loved one—was an outcome she could not even bear to consider. Her throat was tight when Nicholas laid a hand on her shoulder.
“I think you are more clever than your mother was, Helena,” he said quietly. “But there comes a time when a clever person relies upon good sense rather than good fortune.”
“That sounds like something Viscount Addersley might say.”
Her brother smiled. “Perhaps it does.” He kissed her forehead. “Just think before you choose. I could do without another pursuit of you and some worthless fop with a scheme.”
Helena smiled at him. “I don’t think I ever thanked you properly for your timely arrival.”
“Greater thanks to Mrs. D., and to your conviction that I would come.”
“You always have taken care of me, Nicholas, even when I did not deserve it.”
He winked at her. “And the best reward would be for you to choose a good husband to assume that responsibility.”
And not ensure that man’s early demise with her folly. Helena heard the unspoken words.
“Do you think I was wrong to decline Viscount Addersley?”
“I think a woman knows her own heart, and is the one to recognize her best match.”
“But you like him.”
“I find him somber, but he is reliable and respectable.” Nicholas nodded at her. “I would have been surprised if you had accepted a man so different in nature from you, but the match might have proven to be a good one.” He shrugged. “We shall never know.” He changed the subject then, perhaps sensing that he had given Helena much to consider. “Could you take these pots of jam and put them on the shelf? Eliza favors this basket and will want it back.”
She could die foolish.
She could die foolishly.
Or Helena could begin to use her wits.
It was not an overly difficult choice, when she considered it thus.
CHAPTER 7
It had been years since Joshua had visited Haynesdale Hollow and he was glad to see the recent improvements. The road had been widened and several cottages that he knew were occupied by Haynesdale’s tenants had new roofs. The duke was serious about tending his responsibilities and Joshua would take a lesson from that. He was in the midst of reviewing all the obligations now beneath his hand. It was good to know that he could ask Haynesdale for advice in any such matters, upon that gentleman’s return.
He thought again of the mysterious notes, frowning.
He was tethering his horse outside the inn when a young boy darted toward him, then halted, palm up. “A penny to spare, my lord?” the boy asked.
When Joshua glanced toward the boy, he could not keep himself from staring. A ghost might have been conjured before him. The boy’s hair was dark and his eyes were clear green. He was slender and lanky, his clothing worn but clean, a wariness in his gaze. He might have been nine or ten years of age. None of that was particularly worthy of note—it was the boy’s striking resemblance to Gerald many years before that silenced Joshua.
“Have ye, sir?” the boy asked, pushing his hand closer and Joshua realized he had been gaping. He reached into his pocket and found a halfpenny, then cast it toward the boy. “Thank you, sir!” the boy said with delight, his smile making Joshua blink with surprise.
He couldbeGerald, standing before him.
