Helena saw the pitying glance that Gerald granted her.
“He is not going to marry you,” she said to the other woman. “He will never marry you. He is here because he needs you for the moment, perhaps to have a refuge. He cares only for his own advantage, and if he ever inherits the title, his association with you would bring him nothing. He will dismiss and forget you.”
“He would not…”
“Hewill,” Helena said. “I knew a man just like him. He was all grace and courtesy, so long as he believed I was heiress to a fortune. Once he learned otherwise, the truth of his nature was revealed.” She smiled coolly at Gerald. “This man would spend every penny of an inheritance, then he would wed an heiress to ensure his own comfort. He will take your annuity and he will claim the funds allocated for that apprenticeship, he will sell everything he can and he will spend only on his own comfort. He will not ensure the welfare of any of you. It is his brother who has done as much to date, and his brother who is the finer man.”
“I heard as you declined him,” Mrs. Lewis said, her tone snide.
“Because I was a fool who did not see his merit.”
“You are still the one he wants,” Gerald said. “And that, you must see, is why I must take you away from him.” He raised the knife and stepped closer, his intention more than clear. Helena found the wall behind her back and could not summon another word to her lips. She had no more questions, no more means ofstalling, and Gerald knew it. There was a kind of glee in his eyes, a focus on his scheme that ignored all other details.
He did not hear the running footsteps in the lane.
He glanced toward the door at the sound of the viscount’s shout. “Miss Emerson!”
“I am here!” she cried, even as Gerald lunged toward her.
There was a crash of splintering wood as the door was forced open. Helena saw Gerald glance over his shoulder, then was blinded by the sudden glare of daylight. A shadow moved across the opening and Mrs. Lewis screamed. There was a crack, a clatter and a thump.
Then such stillness that she opened her eyes to look.
Joshua stoodin front of Mrs. Jameson’s shop, unable to fathom what had happened to Miss Emerson and her maid. There was no sign of them. They were not in the shop, though they were not long departed, by the dressmaker’s word. Where could they have gone? Surely she would not have ventured into the tavern?
Joshua found himself uncertain what Miss Emerson might do, which to be sure, was a measure of her appeal.
He noticed Mrs. Lewis’ brother leaning against a nearby building, looking as if he summoned his nerve for some deed. Joshua looked down the street for Miss Emerson, not wanting to have another discussion about him owing for Mrs. Lewis’ next child. He was resolving to walk toward the inn in search of Miss Emerson as a young boy raced up to him.
It was Francis Lewis.
“Sir!” he said. “You must come. The lady who awaited you here is in danger.”
Joshua was immediately alarmed. “Where has she gone?”
The boy pointed, then led the way. Joshua strode after him, his fear rising at the boy’s manner. Why had Miss Emerson left this spot? He prayed her impulse did not steer her false.
He did not like that they turned down a lane, nor did he like that Mrs. Lewis’ brother followed behind him. Joshua had the sense of a trap closing around him, but he could not abandon Miss Emerson if she was in need.
The boy went to a door and tried to open it, without success. Joshua could hear an argument within and a woman’s voice that might be that of his lady. “Miss Emerson?” he roared, and was relieved when she replied. Her voice was high and he knew she was fearful. He shook the door, which was more doughty than it looked at first, and took a step back with the intention of forcing it.
Instead, a dark shadow barreled past him and collided heavily with the door, splintering it and sending it crashing inward on its hinges. Mrs. Lewis’ brother William had shattered the door. More importantly, the beam of sunlight revealed Gerald within, a knife held high as he threatened someone. Mrs. Lewis screamed as the door fell in. Gerald lunged forward even as William roared with fury and seized a stool, bringing it down upon Gerald’s head with a crash.
“I told you never to come here again,” he growled as Gerald crumpled to the floor, a pool of blood spreading rapidly around him. “You would leave my sister soiled once more.”
“My lord!” Mrs. Lewis shrieked and fell to her knees beside Gerald.
His brother did not move. Given the rapidly growing pool of blood around him, Joshua suspected he might never move again.
“God in heaven,” whispered Becky, who looked as if her knees might fold beneath her.
And then there was Miss Emerson, pale with fear but defiant, a small knife clutched in her hand. She was backed into the corner, her parcel from the dressmaker clutched against her chest. “I had to come, my lord,” she whispered. “I had to discover whether she knew your brother’s refuge.”
And she had found it, almost at her own expense.
“I fetched him, my lady, I fetched him,” Francis said to Miss Emerson. “You were right, my lady, so I fetched him.”
Miss Emerson smiled at the boy. “You did well, Francis,” she said quietly, the tremor in her voice revealing her own fear.
