Alex could be the answer to her problems. His money, for she could tell just by looking at him that he was wealthy, would mean security. She need never worry about a loss of earnings or an unexpected expense again. She could also tell that he was powerful, for his air as he intervened in the earlier altercation, was that of a man who was used to being obeyed. If she were his wife, no one would ever dare harm her, nor would they insult her (at least not to her face).
He had long dark hair that was tied back with a leather strap at the nape of his neck, but looked as if it would brush his shoulders when loose. His chiselled, razor sharp features combined with a scowl that could turn milk sour, gave him quite a dour look. His day old stubble added to the general appearance of giving him a slightly dangerous air, while the dark circles under his eyes made him look sad.
When he spoke of his sons though, his usually icy blue eyes lit up, implying that they might even have the ability to twinkle, under the right circumstances. His downturned lips also curled up in a subtle smile and his posture, so rigid since she first met him, had relaxed.
She had the distinct impression that he had very little joy in his life, other than his children.
But could she marry him, a man she didn’t even know?
He had said that he wouldn't pressure her but that at some point, he would want more children. His appearance wasn’t unpleasant and he certainly wasn’t repulsive, so she felt that she could handle a physical relationship in time.
The problem was, she didn’t love him.
When she was younger, having seen the relationship between her father and his wife, she had vowed to marry only for love. Sir Geoffrey and Iris, Lady Gardiner had married because their parents deemed the match to be a good one, not because they held each other in any affection.
Once Sir Geoffrey had died though, she had given up all hopes of marriage, content to remain a spinster for the rest of her days. The main reason for that decision was the poverty that she saw all around her. Since she had never been presented at court, finding a husband of means was out of the question.
She could probably find a decent, working class man to marry her, she may even find someone who she loved, however she couldn’t subject a child to the misery that she saw daily. Her wage hardly supported herself and even with a husband’s wage as well, it wouldn’t be enough to support two, three or more children. What if one of them became sick and they couldn’t afford a doctor?
Wealthier families often seemed to limit the number of children they had and she supposed that to spare their wives, the husbands found mistresses, as her father had found her mother. Working class men didn’t have that option however and even if they did, she wouldn’t want her husband to father illegitimate children. It had been bad enough for her growing up with wealth, so she could only imagine how much harder the stigma would be for a low born child.
That had changed now though, for she had a wealthy man offering her his hand. His children would never go hungry. Even if she had a dozen, they would probably never want for anything.
As she rounded the corner, she noticed that she was approaching the hotel once more, and briefly wondered how she had returned so quickly. She pushed that thought aside however.
She realised that this offer was likely to be the best she was ever going to get, and to refuse it simply because she wasn’t in love would be madness.
Alex didn’t seem like a tyrant or a bad man although granted, she wasn’t basing that opinion on very much.
He seemed like a man who carried the world on his shoulders and simply wanted her to help ease one part of that burden; helping him to care for his children. She could do that; she loved children.
In return, she would have security, comfort and eventually, her own children.
She paused at the entrance to the hotel and looked up at the façade, gathering her courage to make one of the most important decisions of her life.
Chapter Two
She had been gone for far longer than it should take to walk around the block, and Alex was just beginning to doubt that she would return, when she walked through the main doors.
He had moved from the dining room to the reception area, where he could clearly see her as she entered, and he rose from the armchair he had claimed, as she entered. She headed into the dining room until she spotted him, and changed course towards him.
“Did you enjoy the walk?” he asked.
“I can’t say that I can remember very much of it, I was rather preoccupied.”
“Of course.” He gestured for her to take a seat and sat down again when she did. “So, did you reach a decision?”
“I did, yes. I will marry you.”
Alex visibly relaxed and smiled. “Thank you, you won’t regret this.”
She didn’t look certain but then he could hardly blame her for having reservations.
“So what happens now?” she asked.
“First, I think we should visit the Doctors Commons and obtain a special licence. I will find a priest to perform the ceremony, then we can be married tomorrow morning, before we leave.”
She nodded her understanding.
“Then we must find a dressmaker and get you measured. Hopefully they will have a few dresses that can be easily altered by tomorrow, the rest can be sent on to you. After that, your time is your own; I will arrange for the wedding announcement to be printed and collect you from your lodgings tomorrow morning.”
She swallowed down her misgivings and attempted a smile. “Very well. Shall we leave now?”
“Of course.” They got to their feet and Alex once again noticed the bloody hand prints on her dress. “Although perhaps we could visit the dressmaker first.”
She looked down at herself and smiled. “I suppose I do look a sight.”
“But a very pleasing sight,” he assured her. “And now, Miss, I must ask you something of great importance.”
“Oh?”
“Your name,” he smiled. “I will need it for the licence.”
“It is Helen, Sir, Helen Norton.”
“The face that launched a thousand ships,” he said with mirth, which seemed to confuse her. “I own a shipping company,” he explained.
She smiled, enjoying the joke.
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Norton. I am Alex Cavendish.”
“And I am very pleased to meet you, Mr Cavendish.”
He offered her his elbow as they left the hotel and he was pleased to note that the pleasing tingle he had felt the first time she touched him, hadn’t diminished.
***
After leaving Alex, Helen had gone to see her employer to hand in her notice. Mrs Fuller was both pleased with her news and nervous for her young employee but Helen did her best to reassure the woman. Although technically Mrs Fuller was Helen’s boss, she had always been a little protective of her and their relationship was closer than that of mistress and worker.
She had tried to give Helen dresses on occasion, ones that perhaps hadn’t been collected or had been returned (although the latter was rare) but Helen always refused. Knowing what her family had done to her, Mrs Fuller understood her desire for independence, because charity could be withdrawn at any moment, for any number of reasons and if you had come to rely on it, the effect could be devastating.
So Helen lived very frugally, saving every penny that she could and refusing assistance from anyone.
Mrs Fuller knew that Helen had fallen ill shortly after she arrived in London, and the idea of suffering a second such incident had terrified her and was the reason that she was so careful with money.
That she wouldn’t have to worry about finances in the future pleased Mrs Fuller, even if she was marrying a stranger.
They had parted with no hard feelings and promises to write regularly, although it worried them both that Helen didn’t even know her address, nor even which county she would be living in.
That night had been a long one for Helen, as she worried over the wisdom o
f her decision and whether she could go through with it. She ate little at dinner and allowed the other lodgers and landlady to talk amongst themselves. Not wanting to face awkward questions, she hadn’t told them of her plans to marry in the morning, only that she was leaving to visit a sick relative and didn’t know when she would return. The landlady explained that her room couldn’t be kept past the end of the week, when her rent was paid up to, but Helen told her that she understood.
Whether this was the right decision or a monumental mistake, she wouldn’t be coming back either way.
A parcel came that evening which she opened in her room, and found a beautiful lavender dress inside, which was cinched just below her breasts and had a full, flowing skirt. The shade was one of the few which looked good with her ginger hair and she wondered if he had known that, or if this was a lucky coincidence.
The brief letter enclosed was from Alex and told her to wear it in the morning, reiterating that he would collect her at 9am. He had signed it ‘fond regards’ and added a ‘P.S. I hope you aren’t too nervous about tomorrow, I promise that I don’t bite’.
She had smiled at the thoughtfulness of adding such a note and felt a tiny bit easier.
She awoke early the following morning and packed her few belongings. She didn’t pack any of her dresses but left them for the next occupant of the room, who could use them or throw them away. To avoid awkward questions, she put an old dress on for breakfast, knowing that everyone would have left the house or be otherwise occupied by 9am, when Alex came for her.
When she returned to her room, she donned the new gown and wished that she could do something more with her hair. The bun looked fine usually but in such a pretty gown, she felt sadly unable to live up to its beauty.
At ten to the hour, she headed downstairs in her new dress and with her one bag, to wait in the street for Alex. He was prompt and smiled as he leapt from the carriage to greet her.
“You look lovely,” he told her.
Helen simply smiled and allowed him to help her into the carriage. She was too nervous to talk during the journey and at the church, only spoke when the priest prompted her during the ceremony. As Alex took her hand to slip the ring on her finger, she stared down at their joined hands, marvelling at the warm feelings that his touch excited within her.
Other than Alex, Helen and the priest, only two other men were in the church to act as witnesses, and it didn’t seem that Alex knew them any more than Helen did.
They signed the register, left the church and as she climbed into the carriage, Helen let out a long sigh of relief.
“You are sorry you did this now, aren’t you?” Alex said, his expression inscrutable.
“No.” She turned to face him. “I actually feel better than I have since I agreed to it, as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. For better or for worse, it’s done now and I have no choice but to make the best of things.” She offered him a tentative smile.
“Good.” Alex returned her smile.
“I do however, think it’s time that you told me a few details about my life from this point onward.”
“Such as?”
“Where we are to live, for one, and I would like to hear more about your sons.”
So Alex told her a little of the house and its history.
“The land has been in our family since the 15 century but it was my father and grandfather who rebuilt the house in its present form. My grandfather built the west wing and then after his death, my father knocked down the original house and built the north, south and east wings. He improved and added to the stables and the hunting lodge. The new wings were built in the Baroque style, which is still fashionable and he had the west wing altered to match the new additions. The grounds and house were almost an obsession with him.”
Helen listened with interest but she couldn’t help but notice how coolly he spoke about his home. He continued to tell her details, about the green room, the red room, the great hall, the library, the marble floors, the colonnade, the expensive panelling and the imported rugs.
Then he moved onto the grounds, telling her about the man-made cascading waterfall in the grounds, the lakes, the arboretum and pinetum.
“What's your favourite room?” she asked as he paused.
Alex looked taken aback by the question. “I…”
“There must be a room where you like spending your time, more than any other?”
“I suppose… the library.”
“Why?” she asked, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.
“It’s in the west wing, built by my grandfather to house his collections of art and books but he paid attention to detail. The library itself is large, probably half the size of the Great Hall and the fireplace alone is the size of a four poster bed, but the room doesn’t feel big. Somehow it’s a very welcoming room. The shelves stand twelve feet high and each set has a sort of mechanised ladder on runners, that can be moved along the length. I used to love climbing the ladder then seeing how far I could push myself. The windows are truly massive and in the ceiling he built a glass dome, to allow as much light in as possible. When the sun sets in the evenings, it paints the library in a riot of red and orange hues.”
For the first time since he had begun talking about it, his deep voice was filled with warmth and Helen found herself looking forward to seeing the library, more than anything else.
His estate, Howard House, was near Crowham, on the Lancashire coast and he described the rugged landscape as being in stark contrast to the carefully manicured grounds. Once again he spoke with a warmth for the landscape that he didn’t seem feel when he spoke of the grounds.
They stopped for lunch at a coaching inn while the horses were rested and when they resumed their journey, Alex began to ask her about her past.
“Were you presented at Court?” he began after they had settled.
“No. I was due to be but father died a month before. Is that important?” She knew that entrance to many places in Society, such as Almack's, would be barred to anyone who hadn’t been presented at court.
“No. Since my wife died, we don’t socialise very much and even if we did…”
His words trailed off and she wondered what he was going to say. If he believed that his wealth would grant him (and her) entrance, he was sorely mistaken. The lady patronesses of Almack's, who approved every member, weren’t likely to be swayed by money. Power, yes, but money alone, no.
She didn’t mention it though. She did however, wonder if perhaps her being the daughter of a Baronet might be an attraction for him. It wasn’t a high rank but many of those in trade wanted, and indeed gained approval, by marrying into aristocratic families.
Sir Geoffrey had never claimed her as his own in the eyes of the law, so Helen wasn’t even entitled to use the courtesy title of Lady, as her half-sisters were. She would be of little help to Alex in improving his social standing; indeed due to the circumstances of her birth, she might even be a hindrance to him.
“Tell me about your father.” Although he was asking, it was stated as an order. Helen guessed that he was used to people doing as he said and so asking was unnecessary. She ignored it for now but when they were more comfortable with each other, she would let him know that she didn’t like being ordered.
Still, her father was one of her favourite subjects and she could talk about him for hours, which she proceeded to do. He was a kindly man who had always showed her special attention, above and beyond what he showed to his other children. He said it was because he knew that they were unkind to her. Although his attentions ignited their jealousy and made her siblings behave even worse towards her, Helen idolised him and was happy to put up with their teasing, bullying and insults, as long as she got to spend time with Sir Geoffrey.
Sometimes she felt that her father was the only person in the entire house who wanted her there; even the staff looked down on her but not him, never him.
“I’m surprised you don’t have more pers
onal possessions,” Alex noted. “Most women seem to keep many things that remind them of loved ones.”
“I wasn’t allowed,” she stated. “I was given just one chest to fill with my possessions, so many reminders of him had to be left in favour of necessities. They watched me as I packed, making sure that I couldn’t take any of the expensive gifts he had given me.”
Her expression grew sombre.
“What kinds of things did you leave?” he asked.
“Mostly items that were too heavy, mainly books, although there was also an exquisite music box. It was one of the first ever made, the mechanism was fascinating, and so beautiful in its intricacy. He explained exactly how it worked to me, taking the panels off so that I could see everything.”
“And the other things?”
“A pair of mother of pearl hair combs, a small Renaissance painting, and a few pieces of jewellery, like the pearls he bought me for my debut at Court. I asked if I could take one of the cabinet miniatures of Sir Geoffrey but they refused. I did manage to take a gold locket he gave me, which had my mother’s picture in it, but I had to sell that soon after I got to London. I couldn’t find a position and then I had an accident, so I was unable to walk for a time. I needed a doctor to set the bone straight for me so I kept the picture but sold the locket, to pay the doctor and keep myself until I was healed.”
“I’ll replace the locket for you,” he said.
“You don’t need to do that,” she said, feeling as if he pitied her. “Honestly.”
“But I haven’t given you a wedding gift yet, and can think of nothing better than preserving the memory of your mother for you, can you?”
Love, Lies and Murder Page 2