“It seems that my younger brother and this Mrs. Lewis had a liaison before my father bought him a commission. I knewnothing of it, and I suspect my father knew nothing of the child. Perhaps my brother did not either.”
Helena realized that he did not intend to reveal the detail of his brother’s survival. She would not do as much either.
“Well!”
“I halted here on my way to meet with Lady Haynesdale, at her request. I am hoping the duke is returned that we might consult upon the situation with these ruffians who have taken up residence in the ruins.”
“Who do you imagine them to be?”
“There are many decommissioned soldiers in need, and others yet unwelcome in their own homes now that they are returned.”
“How wicked,” Helena said.
“Many a wife is not glad of an injured or addled husband’s return,” he told her politely and Helena nodded understanding. He turned to Aunt again. “I had promised to escort Miss Emerson to the dressmaker’s to collect her slippers before the ball, and would not let so minor an injury as my own to interfere with her pleasure.”
He was so gallant!
Aunt softened slightly. “But sir, you must know what is being said of you.”
“And we cannot place our trust in rumor and gossip, Lady Dalhousie. I will defend your niece with my life, I pledge it to you.”
“Becky could accompany us, Aunt,” Helena suggested, for she saw that her aunt was disinclined to relent.
Aunt’s resistance faded. “That is an excellent notion. I know you want your slippers but without carriage or horse, there is no way for us to fetch them.” Aunt took the viscount’s other elbow and turned him toward the cottage. “You must change your dress, Helena, to go to town, and in the meantime, LordAddersley, I wonder if you might regale us with the tale of your battle with the ruffians yesterday. It might put rumor to rest for once and for all…”
Lord Addersley was not vexing.
Nor did he have a mistress or a son.
By every accounting, he was perfect.
Helena spun in her room in her delight before she changed. Only her favorite blue dress would do.
By the time she descended to the kitchen again, Becky fast upon her heels, the butcher, his wife, Aunt and the Nixons were enthralled by the viscount’s tale and clearly convinced of his merit. Aunt beamed, gratified to have proven her own merit as a provider of local news and the other women exchanged glances as the viscount rose to his feet at Helena’s appearance.
He bowed over her hand and Helena hoped she was not the only one to see his admiration.
He looked very handsome himself in his navy jacket and she did not fail to note the fine embroidery on his silken waistcoat. It suited him well to dress a little more finely than had been his custom when they first arrived. Truly, she was certain there was no more handsome man in Nottinghamshire, if not in all of England.
He led her to the gig that was just inside the rhododendron hedge. It had no roof, and she guessed he had chosen it because the day was fine. The horse was a glossy chestnut mare with white socks and a white mark on her brow. Her mane and tail were darker and braided neatly, and she watched their approach with interest.
Aunt followed them, still chattering. “Thank you kindly for the fullness of the tale, my lord. We are most gratified that you were not more seriously injured than you were.”
“I took a pummeling, Lady Dalhousie, but granted one in return.” He touched his eye. “This is the worst of it, and the bruise will fade quickly enough.”
“But to confront the villain alone! That is an act of bravery, sir. You might have faced a dozen brutes!”
“I knew there was but one, Lady Dalhousie.” The viscount’s eyes glinted as his gaze slid to Helena and she knew he would not reveal her part in events of the day before.
How had she ever imagined him to be inscrutable? She saw the way he inhaled sharply when she smiled at him. His eyes had darkened to that sensual hue and there was the barest curve of a smile upon his lips.
“But they say…”
“People say a great many foolish things, Lady Dalhousie. I am sufficiently hale to see this matter resolved today. You need have no fear of Miss Emerson’s safety in my company.”
“Oh, I do not, sir, and I did not mean to imply otherwise!”
“Of course not. Come, Miss Emerson, your slippers await, as does the dowager duchess.” He offered his hand to her and Helena let him guide her toward the gig. He halted beside the horse. “Perhaps you would like to make the acquaintance of Molly before we depart.” The horse nickered then nuzzled Helena’s outstretched and gloved hand. “She knows the way to Haynesdale Hollow as well as I do.”
