The remarks Mr Wymington made in his note to Helen were both pleasant and innocuous, expressing again his delight at having met her and at having seen them both in Abbot Quincey. But they were also followed by a request that she forward the enclosed letter to Miss Gresham at her earliest convenience.
Helen did not pass the note along, of course, nor had she any intention of doing so. But when a second letter arrived a few days later, accompanied by a note which suggested in more forceful terms that she forward the letter, Helen knew she had to do something. It seemed she had not mistaken the look in Mr Wymington's eyes. He was just as determined as Gillian when it came to getting what he wanted—and what he wanted was Gillian.
Helen thought back to some of the remarks he had made just before she and Gillian had taken their leave of him, and in particular, to the remark he had made about Helen having compromised herself by allowing Gillian and Mr Wymington to meet. Had he intended the remark as a threat? Helen hadn't thought much about it at the time, but now she realised it was a very good possibility. Was it also his plan to tell Oliver what she had done if she did not allow him to see Gillian or to allow her to receive correspondence from him?
Helen couldn't be sure, but she knew it was imperative that she find out. She had inadvertently put herself in an exceedingly awkward position and the only way she could see her way clear to getting out of it was by being truthful to all. There would be time enough to worry about the consequences later.
So saying, she sat down at her desk and wrote another letter to Mr Wymington, asking him to do her the favour of meeting with her. She told him they had a most urgent matter to discuss, and suggested they meet in Abbot Giles, the village the farthest removed from the school. She then addressed the letter to his uncle's cottage in Abbot Quincey and gave it to one of the kitchen lads to post.
Not that it would matter if anyone did see her, Helen reflected as she threw her shawl about her shoulders and went out for a walk. No one apart from Gillian and herself knew what Mr Wymington looked like, so if anyone did see them together, she could simply say she had run into an old friend. But she knew she couldn't afford to wait any longer. She had to speak to Mr Wymington and find out exactly what his intentions towards Gillian were. Because the sooner she did, the sooner she could tell Oliver Brandon that he was wrong—or right—in his assumptions about the man.
Not surprisingly, at the thought of Oliver Brandon, Helen experienced again the strange fluttery sensation in the pit of her stomach. She was astonished at how much her feelings towards him had changed. She was no longer angry or even resentful about what he believed had taken place with Lord Talbot. Indeed, she had been touched by Oliver's apology and by his concern that she understand the reasons behind it. More than that, during their outing to Castle Ashby, she had been given a glimpse into another side of the man. She had experienced first-hand his concern for his ward, and she had listened to him express his own doubts as to the wisdom of what he was doing for her now.
On a more personal note, Helen had found herself opening up to him and telling him personal things about her own life and even about her feelings for Thomas. And he had been a marvellous listener. At no time had she felt that she was boring him, or that he was listening to her out of a sense of obligation. His interest in her past had been genuine, as had the look of concern in his eyes when she had revealed her feelings of resentment towards her father.
Yes, something had definitely happened between them at Castle Ashby. Unfortunately, Helen suspected it wasn't anything good. At least, not for her. She had begun to care about a man who had never known what it was like to be in love. She had given her heart to someone who would not only not want it, but who would likely have no idea what to do with it once he discovered it was in his possession.
Oliver spent the days following his outing to Castle Ashby in something of a brown study. Because it wasn't the castle or his ward that lingered on his mind, but Helen de Coverdale. Certainly, he couldn't deny that his opinion of her had changed over the last few weeks. Whereas for the past eleven years he had believed her to be a beautiful, sensual woman willing to use her appearance and her feminine wiles to make her way in the world, he now realised how wrong he had been. Helen had been nothing more than a victim of circumstances; a woman trapped by her own beauty in a situation totally beyond her control. What he had seen of her that night in the library had not been a tempting seductress trying to coax money or jewels from her lover, but an innocent young woman fighting for her virtue.
Why the hell hadn't he seen it at the time? Oliver demanded of himself. Had he been so blind to the truth that he hadn't been able to see the look of unbridled lust on Talbot's face and the unmistakable look of fear on hers? Because it was all he could see now that he thought back to that night. Unfortunately, it had taken an admission from Lord Talbot himself to force Oliver to look back and see beyond his own ignorance.
It was a wonder Helen was even speaking to him!
Still, perhaps it was a good thing it had taken such a jolt to make him see the truth, Oliver reflected. Because her graciousness in accepting his apology was just another indication of the kind of woman she really was. He saw the patience she exhibited towards her pupils, and the gentleness with which she talked to the little girls. And he had seen more than once her willingness to laugh. Would he ever forget the look in Helen's eyes when she had turned to find one of her girls spattered in paint? There had certainly been no anger in her expression. Indeed, she had been forced to bite her lip to keep from laughing. She was a warm and caring woman who gave more to others than she asked for herself. And in doing so, she commanded affection from her girls, respect from her peers, and the unwavering loyalty of the woman who employed her.
As to hearing that Helen had been in love with another man, Oliver hadn't wanted to admit, even to himself, his feelings upon learning that. Certainly there was no reason for him to have had any kind of feelings in the matter. Nor had he the heart to tell her that had he been in her father's place, he would probably have done the same thing. He knew better than most the social implications of such a marriage. But when Helen's life had been turned upside down by her father's death, and she had been forced to make her own way in the world, she had done so with courage and dignity. Not, as he'd first believed, through the use of artifice and temptation.
Yes, there was much to admire in Helen de Coverdale, Oliver acknowledged, and he cursed himself for the ridiculous concerns he'd entertained. Imagine believing that she would be a bad influence on his ward. In point of fact, Gillian would do well to study the example set by such a woman. And that was something else Oliver was pleased about. Gillian was in a much better frame of mind than she had been when he'd left her at the school a few weeks ago. She seemed to have made a place for herself there, and he was delighted with her association with Elizabeth Brookwell, whom he knew to be a nicely mannered young lady from a good family.
More than that, however, Oliver was relieved that Gillian had not made a single mention of Mr Wymington. She had not acted the part of a lovelorn waif nor professed herself wretched with despair. Instead, she had laughed and acted like a young woman who hadn't a care in the world.
Yes, Sophie had been right in her suggestion that he send Gillian to Steep Abbot. Oliver had no doubt that by the time she returned to Hertfordshire at the end of the year she would be over her infatuation with Mr Wymington and eager to travel to London for the Season. Hopefully, she would meet a man more suitable to her station and they would marry and settle down, leaving Oliver free to get on with his own life.
And then suddenly, it hit him. What did he want to do with the rest of his life? What was he to do once Gillian married and moved away? How would he keep himself occupied in the empty halls of Shefferton Hall?
And why did an image of Helen de Coverdale keep popping up in his mind?
Abbot Giles lay due west of the Guarding Academy. It was a small village, boasting a church and a vicarage, and it could be reac
hed by walking through the grounds of the Abbey, a building that until a few months ago had been the home of the contemptible Marquis of Sywell.
Helen sighed as she thought about the story of the bizarre murder, and about Gillian's unending fascination with it. She had refused to gossip with her about it, not because she was lacking information on the subject, but because there was simply too much information to be had. And after the shocking revelations of the past weekend—revelations which had been passed on to her by Jane Emerson, who had in turn heard them from Aggie Binns, the washerwoman in Steep Ride—it seemed there was even more grist for the rumour mill.
In discussion with the investigators, it appeared that the Earl of Yardley had finally disclosed the nature of his business with the Marquis of Sywell on the night he had visited him. It seemed that the Earl had gone to the Abbey to speak to Sywell about his purchasing the Abbey, and apparently, they had agreed— reluctantly on the Earl's part—on a price of two hundred thousand pounds!
Helen had gasped at the staggering sum, as had most of the villagers. To think that the Earl would be willing to pay such an amount of money for something he already owned! But even more astonishing was the Earl's willingness to pay that same amount of money to Sywell's widow. After all, she had had nothing to do with the Marquis's behaviour, the Earl had stated, or with Sywell's reprehensible conduct in acquiring the Abbey in the first place. Why should she not benefit from that which would rightfully have been hers?
That news, of course, had unleashed a flurry of speculation in the villages. Why was the Earl willing to pay so much money for the Abbey? Was it just a ruse on his part to draw Sywell's widow out of hiding? Many believed it was. Because there were many who believed, like Gillian, that Louise had committed the murder and that she was now in hiding for her life.
Still others believed that the Earl had simply set forward a most generous offer and that Louise would be a foolish young woman indeed not to accept it. And if she were truly innocent of the crime, why would she hesitate to come forward and accept it?
Helen shook her head in confusion, wondering what to make of it all. Certainly, it had become the most widely talked about scandal in years. The girls at Mrs Guarding's Academy were constantly being reprimanded for whispering about it. But even Helen could not deny that it made for diverting conversation. Indeed, she might have tossed it around in her own mind a good deal longer, had she not looked up to see Mr Wymington standing across the road from her. At the sight of the dashing man who had the power to affect both Gillian's future and her own, Helen immediately forgot all about the Marquis and his unfortunate demise. Instead, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and walked forward as calmly as she could to greet him.
'Mr Wymington, thank you for agreeing to see me.'
'I would have been foolish indeed not to meet so beautiful a lady.' Mr Wymington offered her a sweeping bow. 'I take it by Miss Gresham's absence that she is not aware you are seeing me today?'
'No. I thought it best I say what I had to in private.'
'Of course.' He nodded towards the carriage behind him. 'Would you like to take a drive while we talk or would you prefer to walk?'
Helen glanced at the carriage and shook her head. She was not sure she was comfortable with the idea of being alone in a closed carriage with him. 'Thank you, but it is a lovely day and I think we would do just as well to walk.'
'As you wish, Miss de Coverdale.'
'By the by, how is your uncle?' Helen enquired as she fell into step beside him. 'I do hope he is feeling better.'
'He is much recovered, thank you. But he continues to regret the fact that he was deprived of the pleasure of meeting you and Miss Gresham the other evening.'
A tiny smile pulled at the corner of Helen's mouth. 'I am relieved to hear he is on the mend.'
'Decent of you to say so since you are not even sure he exists. Oh, come, Miss de Coverdale, you must not take offence,' Mr Wymington said when he saw her look of surprise. 'I Was aware from the moment of my telling you he was ill that you did not believe he was there. Like Mr Brandon, you are suspicious of my motives with regard to Miss Gresham.'
'You are a man for speaking plainly, Mr Wymington.'
'I am when I feel myself to be with like-minded people.'
'Like-minded?' Helen frowned. 'Why would you consider us to be so?'
'Because you and I were not born as fortunate as some, Miss de Coverdale. We must struggle to make our living, rather than be handed it on a silver platter. You have chosen to seek your rewards by being a schoolmistress, and I through...other means.'
A flutter of anxiety rippled up Helen's spine. 'What other means do you refer to, sir?'
'My dear Miss de Coverdale, I cannot believe you are as naive as all that. You know full well there are many other avenues for those like us to earn our keep, rather than by hard work alone.'
'Perhaps you should explain yourself, Mr Wymington. I understand that you are at present a half-pay officer in the militia. Are you not content with your station in life?'
'Good God, why should I be?' He laughed harshly. 'The life of an officer is hardly one to be envied. My expenses are always higher than my earnings and I am ill content for them to remain so. I do not apologise for being desirous of a better life.'
'If it is advancement and glory you crave, why not seek a higher commission?'
'Because I haven't the blunt to buy one,' Mr Wymington admitted, his boyish smile evidence of his lack of concern. 'But if I were to marry a wealthy young woman, that would bring about an end to all of my problems, wouldn't it?'
'And I suppose Miss Gresham is the young woman you had in mind?'
'What do you think?'
'I begin to think you are no better than Mr Brandon suspected.'
For a disreputable man, Wymington possessed the smile of an angel. 'No better perhaps, but no worse. I am very fond of Gillian. She is lovely enough to amuse me and has money enough to afford us both a very comfortable life. More importantly, she loves me enough to do whatever I ask.'
'Does that include going against the wishes of her guardian?'
'If necessary. A woman will always choose the man she loves over the parent who raised her. That is the way of the world.'
'You sound very sure of yourself, Mr Wymington,' Helen said coldly. 'Which is surprising, given the circumstances. You must know that I will not allow you to use Gillian in such a manner.'
'And what would you do, fair Helen? Tell her that you have met with me in private and discovered that I really am the scurrilous cad her guardian believes me to be?'
'My name is Miss de Coverdale,' Helen reminded him, 'and why would I not?'
'Because she would not believe you. Oh, I have no doubt she respects you well enough, but she would not take your word over mine. Nor, I think, would she be pleased to hear of our little rendezvous today. I know Mr Brandon would not.'
Helen wasn't in the least surprised by the remark. 'Are you threatening to tell him?'
'If I had to. I am no one's fool, Helen. A man must use whatever means are at his disposal to secure his ends and to ensure his future. It would not be my wish to inform Mr Brandon or Miss Gresham that we had met in secret, but I would do so if I felt it necessary to protect my interests.'
'And what if I told you I intend to tell Mr Brandon about the visit myself?'
'You may tell him whatever you wish. But I suggest you bear in mind the fact that he will not be as angry about our visit today as he will be about the fact that you arranged a secret meeting, between Gillian and myself at a deserted cottage.'
It was an undeniable truth, and in light of it Helen fell silent. It seemed her doubts about Sidney Wymington were well founded indeed. He was not above using blackmail to achieve his ends, and if it came right down to it, Helen had no doubt he would twist the truth in any way necessary to make her part in this affair appear as black as his own. The only difference was, he could sway Gillian to his side. She could not. As Wymington ha
d said, Gillian might like and respect her, but if it came to choosing sides, she was far more likely to go with him than with anyone else. Worse still, if Wymington were so inclined, it was very possible he could turn Gillian against all of them.
'Miss Gresham does not turn one-and-twenty for nearly four years,' Helen said quietly. 'In the absence of Mr Brandon's approval to marry, do you really think she will wait for you?'
'She will wait as long as I wish her to,' came Wymington's cocksure reply. 'Once she is back in Hertfordshire, it will be easy enough for me to see her. While she is here, I have only to keep assuring her of my unwavering devotion, which is easy enough to do by sending her the right kind of messages.'
Helen's feelings of concern veered sharply to anger. 'You are not to communicate with her!'
'And how do you intend to stop me, Helen? It is a simple enough matter to get letters to her. You may not be willing to forward my notes, but there are plenty of young ladies at the Academy who are.'
Helen came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the road. She realised now that she had been foolish to think she could persuade this man to give up his quest. Because in doing so, she had jeopardised not only Gillian's future, but her own.
'I think we have said all that needs to be said, Mr Wymington.' Helen's voice was flat, but her eyes flashed with anger and resentment. 'You may threaten me if you wish, but it will do you no good. I shall tell Mr Brandon of your conduct. I shall write to him this very day and tell him you are every bit as conniving as he suspected, and that he was right to try to keep you apart. I shall also tell Gillian what kind of man you are, and do everything in my power to change that innocent young girl's opinion of you.'
Mr Wymington breathed a sigh of resignation. 'You may do whatever you wish, my dear Helen. And you are, of course, entitled to your opinions. But in the end, we shall see who comes out ahead. You were wrong to threaten me, my dear. Because I am in a much better position to win than you. A few words in Gillian's ear will rob you of her affection, and a carefully worded note to Mrs Guarding, of your employment. Not that you need have any worry about finding other kinds of work.' Wymington stepped in close and grasped her chin in his hands, tipping it back and forcing her to meet his eyes. 'You are an exceptionally lovely woman. I doubt you would have difficulty in finding a man to take you in. I would set you up as my own mistress, but I doubt you would pleasure me in bed given the way you feel about me now.'
The Guardian's Dilemma Page 11