The Guardian's Dilemma

by Gail Whitiker

  Helen tried to ignore the tearing pain in her chest as she thought about Oliver and the way he had reacted. Would she ever forget the way he had looked at her when she had mentioned Mr Wymington's name? Would she ever be able to banish the memory of the disappointment and anger that had appeared in his eyes during the conversation that had followed?

  She feared not. She hadn't realised until that moment just how much his good opinion had meant to her. She had been so pleased when they had been able to resolve their differences from the past. And she had enjoyed, more than she cared to admit, the time she had spent with him at Castle Ashby.

  But all of that was gone now. She had done something she'd known all along to be wrong, and had lost not only his respect but her own credibility. Even now, he would be questioning the validity of everything she had told him. He might even begin to believe she had invited Lord Talbot's advances, regardless of what the drunken peer had admitted to. And what about Mrs Guarding? What would she do if the headmistress turned her away?

  Helen's face crumpled. After all, she had blatantly disregarded the rules. She had ignored her instructions and had taken matters into her own hands. What choice would the headmistress have but to turn her away?

  When a tentative knock came at the door, Helen froze. 'Yes?'

  'Miss de Coverdale?'

  Helen gasped, and quickly opened the door. 'Gillian, what are you doing here?'

  'I had to see you.' The girl walked in and collapsed on the bed. 'Oliver is furious.'

  'Yes, I'd expected as much. Did he scold you very badly?'

  Gillian's bottom lip trembled. 'He didn't say much to me at all. I don't think he could find the words. But I am terribly afraid he is going to take me away.'

  There was such a plaintive quality to the girl's voice that it nearly broke Helen's heart. 'Oh, Gillian, I am so sorry.'

  'Why did you have to tell him I had been in contact with Mr Wymington? He would never have found out if you hadn't.'

  'I could not lie to him, Gillian. It was bad enough we did something without his knowledge. To compound that by lying would have made it even worse. Besides, he already knew I had seen Mr Wymington myself.'

  'But why did you arrange to see Mr Wymington in Abbot Giles?'

  Helen had been expecting the question, but somehow, it didn't make the answering of it any easier. 'Because I was...troubled by something he'd said to me when we were leaving his uncle's cottage.'

  'Why? What did he say?'

  Helen wished there was some way she could soften the blow Gillian was about to receive, but she knew in her heart there was not. 'Gillian, Mr Wymington hasn't been completely honest with you about his feelings.'

  Gillian went very still. 'What do you mean?'

  'I mean that your guardian has been right all along. Mr Wymington admitted to me that...the reason he is courting you is because he is interested in securing a wealthy bride.'

  'No!'

  'I wish I could say it wasn't so—'

  'No, it isn't true!' Gillian sprang to her feet, her blue eyes blazing with anger. 'You are only saying that to make me think he doesn't love me. But he does love me! He told me so himself!'

  'Mr Wymington would tell you whatever he thought he had to to make you believe him, Gillian, don't you see that?' Helen took the girl by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. 'He's not a wealthy man, but he knows that by marrying you he will become one.'

  'But the money is mine!'

  'Yes, but when a woman marries, everything she owns becomes the property of her husband. You would have absolutely no say in how your money was spent, or on what.'

  Suddenly, Gillian jerked free of Helen's hands. 'You like him, don't you!'

  Helen blanched. 'What?'

  'You like Mr Wymington,' she repeated. 'That's why you went to see him, isn't it?'

  Helen flinched at the accusation in Gillian's voice. 'Of course it isn't. What nonsense!'

  But Gillian only shook her head and began to back towards the door. 'No, it isn't nonsense. He told me you would say terrible things like this. He told me you would...try to make me think badly of him, because you were jealous and wanted him for yourself. But I didn't believe it.' Gillian looked at her with a haunted expression. 'I didn't want to believe it.'

  'Gillian, what do you mean he told you that's what I would say? Have you been in contact with him?'

  'That's none of your concern,' Gillian cried.

  'Yes, Gillian, it is. Have you had a letter from him?'

  'All right, yes, I have!' Her tone was defiant. 'And I want the others he sent to you for me. You had no right to keep them! They were mine!'

  Stunned, Helen rocked back on her heels. Dear God, how could everything have gone so terribly, terribly wrong? 'Gillian, listen to me. Mr Wymington had no business sending you letters. He was wrong to try to contact you, and he was certainly wrong to try to do it through me. Mr Brandon expressly forbade any correspondence between the two of you.'

  'I do not think that is the case at all,' Gillian said, her voice ringing with condemnation. 'You like Mr Wymington and you didn't like the idea of his sending letters to me.'

  'That is utterly ridiculous!'

  'No, it isn't. Mr Wymington is a wonderful man! Any woman would be proud to have him by her side. And you're just an old spinster who can't find a gentleman of her own,' Gillian flung at her. 'That's why you tried to take mine.'

  Helen gasped at the cruelty of the indictment. 'I would never do such a thing!'

  'Yes, you would. Well, I hope Mrs Guarding does dismiss you!' Gillian said as she threw open the door. 'I hope she sends you away as soon as possible. Because I never ever want to see you again!'

  Chapter Eleven

  Mrs Guarding sent for her thirty minutes later.

  Helen went to the headmistress's office with a heavy heart. Her world was falling apart and there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it. First Oliver had turned against her, then Gillian, and now, she was to be taken to task by Mrs Guarding. Would this wretched day never end?

  'So you were, in fact, a Willing accomplice to the meeting between Gillian and Mr Wymington,' Mrs Guarding said at the end of Helen's recounting of the events.

  'Only in that I allowed it to take place.' Helen breathed a heavy sigh. 'I had to know if Mr Wymington was truly as reprehensible as Mr Brandon believed him to be. I thought that by going and listening to his conversation with Miss Gresham, I might be able to discover something about him which would confirm Mr Brandon's suspicions.'

  'Which you did.'

  'Yes.'

  'And that is why you arranged to meet with him again in Abbot Giles,' Mrs Guarding said slowly.

  'I know you think I was inclined to disbelieve Mr Brandon because of my past, Mrs Guarding, but I had to find out the truth. I thought that if I could go to Gillian with proof of Mr Wymington's duplicity, she would be able to see that her guardian was right.'

  'And yet, in spite of what you were able to learn about Mr Wymington, Gillian is enamoured of him still.'

  Helen's head fell forward in despair. 'Yes.'

  Mrs Guarding got up and slowly began to walk around the room. 'You say that Gillian and Mr Wymington have been exchanging letters.'

  'I can only assume that some of the girls have been helping the messages go back and forth. Mr Wymington was not above using trinkets or sweets to encourage them, and indeed, the girls would have no reason to believe they were doing anything wrong. It was only the staff that were told there was to be no communication allowed. No doubt the girls thought it all very romantic. A kind of Romeo and Juliet relationship, as it were.'

  'Hmm, and look where love got them,'' Mrs Guarding muttered. 'Well, we are in a fine mess, my dear. Mr Brandon has threatened the future of the school if I do not dismiss you, yet your reasons for doing what you did—if not the manner in which you did them—are only to be commended. Especially in light of Mr Wymington's true nature. Unfortunately, I am once again caught in the middle of the p
roblem, forced to choose between what I feel to be right and what is best for the school.'

  Helen closed her eyes. 'I am so very sorry, Mrs Guarding. I had no idea it would come to this.

  Certainly, it was never my wish to cause you so much aggravation.'

  'I know, my dear, but unfortunately, being sorry doesn't make the problem go away.' Mrs Guarding sighed again. 'Go back to your room, Helen. I shall take the evening to think the matter over and advise you and Mr Brandon of my decision in the morning.'

  'Has Mr Brandon returned to Hertfordshire?'

  'No. He has taken a room at the Angel, but he has asked for my decision before he leaves in the morning. Did I mention that he has also advised me of his intention to remove Gillian from the school?'

  Helen gasped. 'No!'

  'I believe he intends to settle her in marriage as soon as possible.'

  With every word, Helen's spirits plummeted even further. 'She will hate that above all. I wonder she did not mention it to me.'

  'I am not sure she knows. Mr Brandon possibly would not wish to upset her to the point where she might do something foolish before he can get her home.'

  That made sense, Helen reflected sadly. Oliver didn't trust Gillian at the best of times. In the state she was in now, there was no telling what she might do.

  'By the way, it would probably be best if you did not see Gillian until I've made my decision,' Mrs Guarding advised. 'No doubt she will be feeling extremely troubled by all that has happened.'

  Helen remembered the acrimonious tone of the girl's voice; the stinging words of condemnation she had thrown at her, and regretfully nodded her head.

  'Yes, I have no doubt that she is, at the moment, a very troubled young lady indeed.'

  Helen went back to her room and thought long and hard about the situation she found herself in. And the more she thought about it, the more she realised it was not only her future that was at stake here, but Gillian's. The child had to be kept safe from the likes of Sidney Wymington, but how? Wymington certainly couldn't be trusted to keep his distance. Events of the past few weeks were evidence of that. And knowing the man as well as she did, Helen was convinced he would do everything in his power to continue his clandestine courtship.

  But was Oliver's intention of taking her back to Hertfordshire and settling her in a marriage of convenience the right answer? He would no doubt choose someone respectable. An older man, perhaps; someone who was steady and reliable, and who would have a settling effect on Gillian. But Gillian was in a highly emotional state right now. How would she react to Oliver choosing a husband for her and forcing her into marriage? '...How can he know what is best for me when he has never been in love himself?' Gillian had complained. 'How can he know how sweet it is to be close to someone you love when he has never experienced the feeling himself?'

  There was no need for Helen to try to answer the question. Oliver's intervention in such a way would surely bring about the end of his relationship with his ward. If Gillian could not choose the man she would spend the rest of her life with, she might very well choose never to see Oliver again!

  * * *

  Oliver was sitting in his room, contemplating his problems over a bottle of claret, when he heard the sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway beyond.

  'Mr Brandon?' the innkeeper called through the door.

  Oliver didn't bother to get up. 'What is it?'

  'Pardon me, sir, but there's a young lady downstairs asking to have a word with you.'

  Oliver frowned. A young lady? At this time of night? Obviously not the kind of young lady he was interested in seeing. 'Tell her I've already gone to bed,' he called back gruffly.

  'She said to tell you she was from the school, sir.'

  The school? Good heavens, had Gillian come to see him?

  Oliver jumped to his feet and shrugged on his jacket. 'Innkeeper, have you a decent parlour downstairs?'

  'Aye, sir.'

  'Good. Put the young lady in it and tell her I shall be there directly.'

  As Oliver prepared to go downstairs, he wondered why Gillian had come. Was it possible she wished to apologise for her conduct? She certainly hadn't seemed inclined to do so this afternoon. Of course, she'd had a few hours to think things over. Mayhaps she had seen the folly of her ways and was hoping to make amends.

  To his astonishment, however, it wasn't his disobedient young ward who awaited him in the privacy of the parlour. Instead, as the young woman slipped back the hood of her cape, Oliver was treated to the sight of the woman who had caused him an endless number of sleepless nights and an even greater number of disturbing dreams. 'Miss de Coverdale!'

  'Pray forgive my calling upon you at so late an hour, Mr Brandon, but it was imperative that I speak with you.'

  'Have you no care for your reputation?'

  'I have little enough reputation left to worry about,' Helen said. 'I felt that what I had to say was worth the risks in coming.'

  It took a moment for Oliver to gather his wits about him. Damn it, why did the mere sight of her cause his insides to turn to liquid? 'I thought Gillian had come to pay a call,' he said huskily. 'Had I known it was you, I would not have agreed to a meeting.'

  Helen flushed at the harshness of the rebuke. 'I know. That is why I did not give the innkeeper my name. But I had to come, sir. I had to talk to you about Gillian's future.'

  Oliver's eyes darkened. 'It seems to me you should be more concerned with your own, Miss de Coverdale. I am sure Mrs Guarding informed you of my ultimatum.'

  'She did, and I shall deal with that at the proper time. But how you deal with Gillian's future is far more important to me right now.' Helen took a hesitant step forward. 'Mr Brandon, is it your intention to take Gillian back to Hertfordshire and settle her in an arranged marriage?'

  'I fail to see that what I do with my ward is any business of yours.'

  'Oh, but it is, sir. Because I fear that what you are about to do is a terrible mistake. Gillian puts a greater value on love than she does on anything else. Indeed, she believes it to be the most important thing in the world.'

  'Unfortunately, you and I have both seen what happens when Gillian puts that much stock in love,' Oliver drawled. 'And I think it should be obvious why I would not wish to see her make her own decision again.' He turned and walked towards the window. Why was this so damned difficult? Why couldn't he just be angry with her and stay that way? 'Why did you go against my wishes and allow her to see Wymington?' he asked softly. 'You knew better than anyone how I felt about the man.'

  'Yes, but I had to see for myself what Mr Wymington was like.'

  'Why would you think to question my own assessment of the man?'

  'Because I could not be sure that your reasons for disliking him were sound.'

  Oliver whirled to face her, and his expression was a study in anger. 'Do you think I am completely insensitive, Miss de Coverdale, or just supremely stupid?'

  Helen flushed, but valiantly held her ground. 'I think that, as Gillian's stepbrother and guardian, you might have been jealous that she was giving her affections so completely to someone else. To listen to Gillian speak of him, Mr Wymington is a paragon amongst men.'

  Oliver gave a short burst of frustrated laughter. 'I have had the acquaintance of many men, Miss de Coverdale, and I have yet to meet a paragon. However, I do not expect Gillian to have a great deal of sense when it comes to matters like this. She is young and foolish, and has been indulged far more than she ought. But I do expect those in my employ, and those in whom I put my trust to abide by my wishes. You have not. And however justifiable you feel your actions to be, it still does not change the fact that you deliberately disobeyed me.' He turned back towards the window, and his voice dropped away. 'I trusted you, Miss de Coverdale. I believed you to be a good influence on Gillian. I knew how much she respected you and as I came to know you better, I felt that same respect myself. Indeed, I agonised over the mistake I had made in believing you to be...something you were not,
' he said quietly. 'And yet, what did I discover today but that you are not to be trusted at all.'

  Helen blinked as a soft shimmer of tears appeared in her eyes. 'Mr Brandon, I know there is nothing I can say to excuse my own conduct, but I did not come here to plead my case. I came here to talk to you about Gillian's.' She took a tentative step closer. 'Is it your intention to find Gillian a husband without her knowledge or consent?'

  Oliver was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on the deserted street below. Did she truly care so little about her own predicament that she would not even seek his forgiveness? 'Yes, it is.' His voice was flat, his tone lacking in emotion. 'It is clear that Gillian wishes to be married, so the sooner I settle her in the wedded state, the better off we shall all be.'

  'She will resent your intrusion into her life,' Helen said quietly. 'Gillian needs to be in love with the man she marries. She will suffocate in a relationship that exists in name only.'

  'We have already agreed that people marry for reasons other than love, Miss de Coverdale,' Oliver replied in the same, bland tone. 'Gillian needs guidance in her life. She needs the firm hand of a husband to tell her what she can and cannot do. And since I cannot trust her to find the kind of man who will do that, I shall have to do it for her.'

  His words fell into the heavy silence between them; a silence broken only by the faint sputtering of the candle on the table.

  'Mr Brandon, you told Mrs Guarding that you...wanted my resignation. If I agreed to leave the school, would you consider allowing Gillian to stay?'

  Oliver sighed, and then slowly turned to look at her. She was such a beautiful woman. In the dim light of the candle, her loveliness seemed to him almost ethereal. He gazed in silence at the gentle oval of her face and at the long, dark hair falling in glistening waves past her shoulders. His eyes lingered for a moment on the inviting curve-of her mouth and upon the ripe fullness of her lips. And he knew that, had it been possible, he would have done anything he could to banish the expression of fear and uncertainty from her eyes.