And if Gerald dispatched his older brother,hewould become viscount.
Had this been his plan? Had he set a trap for Lord Addersley? Had she unwittingly aided his plan? Helena could not bear the prospect. She turned the horse and urged him to a canter in pursuit of Lord Addersley. She had to warn him!
She cursed her skirts even as they made good progress, for her perch was more precarious than she might prefer. In breeches, she could have galloped the horse and reached the viscount more quickly. He had already vanished into the forest on the shadowed path, and she leaned over the horse’s neck as she touched her heel to his side. She hung on as the horse approached a gallop, then Lord Addersley came into view.
He spun to face her, but his expression was not relieved.
No, it was thunderous. Never had his emotions been so clearly displayed, but Helena could not admire the change.
“Miss Emerson!” he said, his tone moderate but the words bitten off with precision. He raised a hand and the horse slowed in obedience, even as he marched toward her. His eyes were flashing with fury and his lips drawn to a thin line as he seized the reins. “I sent you home,” he reminded her.
“I had to warn you, sir…”
“You were obliged to do no such thing, Miss Emerson. You gave me your promise that you would return to Bramble Cottage and remain there in safety, and you did as much not five minutes ago.”
“I did, but…”
“There is no negotiation in this matter, Miss Emerson. Turn the horse. Now.”
Helena turned the horse as instructed. “I simply wanted to ensure that you understood the danger,” she began again.
“Either I confront a desperate villain alone, or I meet my brother again,” the viscount said crisply. “I am well aware of the nuances of peril in either situation, while you, Miss Emerson, persist in showing a decided lack of good sense.”
“He might kill you!”
“The possibility, while less than desirable, is not out of the question.”
He knew. He knew the danger before himself, and he proceeded anyway. Helena stared at him, in awe of his bravery. He was just as she had imagined him that first day, a man who could not be halted from doing what he believed to be right. Her admiration of him was nigh overwhelming.
“I do not think you should be alone,” she dared to say, wanting to witness his triumph.
“And there our perspectives diverge,” he replied and his voice hardened yet more. “Again. Truly, Miss Emerson, I can only be relieved that you showed the foresight to refuse me, for you were right.” Helena gasped but he continued. “We are not remotely suited to each other. I could never pledge myself to a woman so utterly determined to proceed foolishly in every situation.”
“Oh!” Helena was astonished by his severity and by his censure.
His expression was relentless, though, his gaze dark and angry. He lifted one hand and pointed toward Bramble Cottage, an imperative she had been persuaded to follow. “Go home, Miss Emerson. Immediately.”
Helena lifted her chin. “If you are left dead at the folly, I shall find another way to fetch my slippers.”
“I am most relieved to hear as much,” he said, averting his face before she could be certain whether she had heard a thread of amusement in his tone.
He granted her another solemn look, one that hinted at a disdain for her that nigh broke Helena’s heart in two. She whistled to the dog as she turned away, then urged the horse to a canter. She never looked back, though she felt the weight of the viscount’s gaze upon her.
He probably did not trust her to do as she had said she would.
He probably did not believe she would keep her promise.
She would prove him wrong, though Helena was not in the least bit certain that he would even know.
The viscount no longer admired her. He no longer believed they were suited—and he changed his thinking in the precise moment that Helena realized the magnitude of her error in refusing him.
She was a fool, to be sure, though she did not know the cure for that malady.
Joshua would have saidanything to see Miss Emerson out of danger.
He would have insulted her even more brutally, if need be, to ensure that she had no chance of being injured in whatever battle he entered. He watched until she was out of view, not entirely trusting her to follow his bidding.
It had been a tragedy to lose Miss Havilland. To see Miss Emerson injured as a result of his deeds, or worse, was a possibility that sickened Joshua. He would never recover fromhis guilt over such an error—and that was independent of who the lady in question chose to wed.
