Love, Lies and Murder

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Love, Lies and Murder Page 11

by Catherine Winchester


  “I am, thank you.”

  “I told Mama I had a headache,” Rose confessed. “I just wanted to make sure that you were all right?”

  “I'm fine, Rose but thank you for checking up on me.”

  “Well I don’t know about any of you but I am not remotely ready for bed,” Jane said. “Why don’t we convene in the family sitting room down the hall and have a nightcap while we unwind?”

  Helen didn’t feel the slightest bit tired either and wouldn’t sleep for hours but equally, she didn’t want to spend the next few hours all alone, reliving the past. “An excellent idea.”

  “Well, when two beautiful women declare something a good idea, that must be right, eh, Rose?” Milton asked, flirting once more.

  Rose turned a bright shade of red and bowed her head.

  “Leave the poor woman alone, Mil,” Jane chastised, taking his arm and leading him away.

  Seeing that she was slightly hesitant, Helen took Rose’s arm. “Come on, he’s all bark and no bite,” Helen assured her as they followed.

  ***

  The following morning it was just Helen and Pearl in the breakfast room,

  “Your Grace,” Helen said once she had poured herself a cup of tea.

  Pearl turned to her daughter-in-law, although her nose was literally in the air.

  “I want to begin to run the household, as custom dictates, so from next week I will be planning the menus, and dealing directly with Mrs Watson over any household matters.”

  Pearl’s eyes narrowed. “I have been running this house since I was first married!” her voice was controlled but menacing all the same.

  “You mean that you didn’t let Alex’s first wife perform her duties as Duchess? You do surprise me.”

  “Emma wasn’t fit to run a house such as this, and neither are you.”

  “Thank you for being blunt, Your Grace, however it is my duty to perform and I intend to do so. If you have any problems with that, you are free to move into the Dower House, or take it up with Alex when he returns.”

  “I have run this house his entire life and he has never found fault with it.”

  “Perhaps not, but it is not your place to dictate how my house is run.”

  “You think that just because you have a pretty face, that he will side with you? I am his mother.”

  Even after confessing their attraction for each other, Helen wasn’t at all sure that Pearl was wrong but then again, he had asked if she knew how to run a household at their first meeting, so surely he had planned on her taking over at some point.

  “And I am his wife and mistress of his home.”

  Pearl sniffed.

  “Discuss it with Alex if you must, but I don’t need his permission to do this. I thank you for giving me time to settle in but it is time that you had the freedom to enjoy your final days.”

  “Running my home is not a burden!”

  “Perhaps not, but it is my home now and until you are informed otherwise, your services are no longer required.”

  Pearl got up from her seat with a derisive sniff.

  “Would you like me to summon a doctor for you?” Helen asked.

  “I am as healthy as a horse!” Pearl sounded incensed.

  “You have had the sniffles ever since I arrived and with a cold that lasts this long, you really should see a physician.”

  With as much grace as she could muster, Pearl left the room and whilst she had enjoyed putting Pearl in her place, Helen wasn’t naturally confrontational, and seemed to deflate the moment the door closed. Finally she reached for her tea and took a long sip, her hands shaking as she brought the cup to her lips.

  She was certain that their confrontation wasn’t over but at least the battle lines had been drawn.

  She ate only a little since she felt slightly queasy, then she went to see the boys, hoping that a cuddle from Jules might help to cheer her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Helen was in the library when Paris came in, looking for a book that she could read to Jules. He had mentioned that he missed their father’s stories and Helen had offered to step in until Alex returned. Joe didn’t seem enamoured of the idea but he didn’t contest it either.

  Helen looked up when she heard the door open him and noticed that Paris’ demeanour was very different from last night, almost embarrassed.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “I had a very long chat with my wife last night,” Paris began, seemingly unsure of himself. Helen had never seen him like this before. “She wasn’t aware of our past and is quite shamed by my behaviour when I was younger. She tells me that I may not share her bed again until I apologise to you. And she is right, the way we treated you is unforgivable and… I’d like to offer a sincere apology for that.”

  “Do you speak for everyone?”

  “No, only for myself but I intend to talk to mother and Cassandra.”

  “You must care a great deal for your wife,” Helen noted and she saw his eyes light up.

  “I do.” He smiled. “She is one of the finest women I have ever met.”

  “And beautiful.”

  “Yes, both inside and out. The name Delilah is ill-suited for such a woman as she would never betray me, as Delilah did to Samson.”

  “She knew Samson’s weakness and perhaps, Delilah knows that pride is one of your weaknesses.”

  “Perhaps.” Paris’s smile was tight. “She is correct in this however, and I am truly sorry for the part I played in making you feel unwelcome in our home.”

  Helen had thought a lot about what to do with her erstwhile family and had reached no firm conclusions.

  “Why did you even come here, Paris? You never liked me and you surely couldn’t have expected a warm welcome?”

  “I thought you had sent us that clipping of your wedding announcement; I thought you were trying to get in touch with us.”

  “And now that I am a Duchess, I hoped that you’d welcome me back into the family with open arms?” She only just managed to hold her laughter.

  “Something like that.”

  “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Paris, but I haven’t spent the past four years pining for the people who rejected me. As I said, I didn’t send you that clipping and I have no idea who did.”

  “But we are here now; can’t we at least try and reconcile?”

  Helen honestly didn’t believe that they could, too much hurt had been caused for her to ever trust these people. She was curious as to who had sent them the wedding announcement however, and what exactly her family hoped to gain by reconciling with her. If it was entry into a higher echelon of Society, they must not realise that the Cavendish family rarely socialised.

  “I make no promises. As I said, you may remain for one more night; any more is dependent on how you behave.”

  Paris nodded his understanding and turned to leave.

  “Oh and Paris?” she called and he stopped at the door and turned back. “Did you ever find father’s Will?”

  His jaw tightened and she could see that he had a nasty retort on the tip of his tongue but he managed to bite it back. “No, despite what he may have told you, no Will was ever found. I'm sorry.”

  ‘I’m sure,’ Helen thought but she just smiled politely at him until he left.

  Her father had promised on many occasions that she would always be taken care of, even once he was gone but unless she could prove that Paris and his family had hidden or destroyed the Will, there was nothing that Helen could do to reclaim what might be hers. The worse aspect of the missing Will however, was that it called her father’s character into question. What if there really was no Will and Sir Geoffrey had been lying when he told her that she would be looked after? If he had lied about that, what else might he have lied about?

  An hour later her half-sister, Cassandra came to see her, saying very similar things to Paris and begging for forgiveness. It took a further four hours for her step-mother, Iris to come and offer her apologies but while the oth
ers had done a decent job in hiding their distaste for her, Iris had clearly been pressured to apologise, and she resented it.

  But why?

  Did Cassandra need a husband? She had been as good as promised to a Lord Burnish and even if things had fallen through there, her family had their own contacts in Society and could find her another match. Or at least, her father could have; they had joined the ton in London every season and had been members of Almack's Assembly Rooms, where only the best of the best were admitted.

  Helen had been too young to attend but she had enjoyed hearing about the balls and the dances and the pretty dresses.

  Perhaps Paris had done something to cause the family to be removed from the membership roster but even if that were so, there were summer parties and dinner parties, local dances and all sorts of other places where a young lady could meet an eligible man.

  Sir Geoffrey had been a warm man and cultivated many friendships throughout his life, both with the gentry and with the lower classes, and they had spent many holidays with higher ranking aristocrats, so none of this made any sense to Helen.

  She found herself wishing that it was Friday once again, when Alex would be back so that she could ask him what he thought. She might not have known him for very long but from what she had observed, he seemed an astute man and a good judge of character, so she would welcome his insights. Still, she only had one more day to wait, as long as his business didn’t keep him any longer.

  ***

  Helen entered the blue sitting room, to see Milton folding a letter and slipping it into his pocket. He looked troubled.

  “Are you all right?” Helen asked.

  He looked up at her and Helen thought that he seemed surprised to see her.

  “I’m afraid I have to leave for a while.”

  “Nothing serious, I hope?”

  “Just a business matter.”

  “What business are you in?” she asked. She knew that his father’s business had paid for Emma’s dowry but she had never thought to ask what trade the family were in.

  “Shipping, like Alex; one of the many reasons that he chose Emma was because he hoped to go into the same business.” He sounded a little curt, as though he were in a hurry.

  “I'm sorry to hear of your difficulties. Is there anything I can do?”

  “I need to pack, so if you could have the grooms informed to have my carriage ready, it would be a big help. I’ll be journeying to Liverpool as soon as I’m packed.”

  “Of course.” She curtseyed to him as he left the room and as Helen watched him leave, she had the distinct impression that she had just been lied to.

  She sighed, feeling as if she might be overwhelmed by deception at some point soon. Was anything in this house as it appeared to be? With her family and their machinations, plus Emma’s untimely death, she had begun to feel as if she might drown in all the lies.

  She went to look out of the window for a few moments, enjoying the sun on the beautifully manicured gardens. There would be fewer and fewer days of sun now and that thought matched her mood, which was becoming quite bleak.

  She knew that it was quite ridiculous to miss someone after only a few weeks of knowing them, but she was missing Alex dreadfully. Plus, Joe still showed little sign of thawing towards her.

  She let out another long sigh then turned away from the view. She was meeting Joe for their first game of chess soon and she wanted to be ready for him. She was very out of practice but as this was one of the few things they had in common, she hoped to build on it and forge a relationship with him. She was halfway up the stairs when the sound of footsteps caused her to turn and she saw Rose running towards her, crying.

  She was so stunned by the sight that she allowed Rose to pass unchallenged but as soon as she regained her senses, she took off after the woman.

  Rose’s bedroom door was closed by the time Helen caught up with her so she knocked.

  “Rose? Are you in there?”

  There was no reply.

  “Please, Rose, I don’t mean to pry, I just want to know that you are all right.”

  It took about a minute but finally the door opened a little and Rose stood there.

  “Thank you, Helen, but I'm fine.”

  She looked anything but.

  “Did your mother upset you?”

  Rose didn’t answer for a few long moments, then gave a curt nod.

  “I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can get for you?”

  “No, I just need to be alone for a while; I’ll see you at dinner.”

  Helen nodded. “I’ll be in the family parlour in this wing if you need me.”

  “Thank you.”

  Helen turned and left, feeling guilty. If she hadn’t annoyed Pearl this morning, she probably wouldn’t have taken her anger out on Rose. Poor, sweet, lonely Rose.

  Helen went to her room, retrieved a bag of sugared almonds and a bowl, then headed to the sitting room to set up the chess board. Joe came in silently and took the chair opposite her. He glanced at the bowl of sweets but didn’t take one.

  “Do you have a preference for black or white?” Helen asked.

  “White.”

  Helen turned the board around and waited for him to make his first move. Joe’s gaze kept returning to the bowl as they played, so she reached for an almond, then pushed them towards Joe, who after a moment’s hesitation, took one.

  Joe quickly took one of her pawns.

  “Sorry, it’s been so long since I played that I probably won’t be much of a challenge for you,” Helen said.

  “I’ve only been playing for a few months.”

  “Then perhaps you will have a fairer fight than I originally thought.” She took one of his pawns, only for him to take her knight with his bishop. “Or maybe not.”

  They played in silence for a few more moves.

  “Helen?”

  “Yes?”

  “Those people in the house, the visitors. Are they your family?”

  “Yes, they are.” Although Joe hadn’t met them, Helen didn’t question how he knew; children had their ways of finding things out, even if you wanted them kept secret.

  “You don’t seem to like them very much.”

  “I don’t,” she admitted, not looking up from the board.

  “But they’re your family.”

  “True enough but love has to be earned, and they never even earned my trust, let alone my affection.”

  “So that old lady, is she your mother?”

  “Step-mother. Like you, I lost my mother when I was young, just a few days old in fact.” She glanced at him but the pain on his face made her look away; it reminded her of how lonely she had felt when she was his age. “I wish I had known her, what kind of person she was. My father tried to tell me but it’s not the same. Sometimes I used to imagine that she was still alive somewhere, and one day would come back to claim me.”

  “So you don’t know anything about her?” Joe asked.

  “Some details, and I have a small portrait of her.”

  “Can I see it?”

  “Of course. Your father took it to Liverpool with him to find a locket to house it in, but when he gets back, I’ll be sure to come and find you.”

  Joe nodded but didn’t look very interested in seeing it anyhow.

  “So is it bad not to like your family?” Joe asked out of the blue.

  “I don’t know,” Helen confessed. “Mostly I think that you should forgive family more easily than you forgive a friend, but there are some things that are unforgivable.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “That depends. For example, if they stole from you, that’s bad but probably forgivable. If they stole something precious to you, not necessarily in monetary value but its value to you, then that would be a good deal harder to forgive. Why do you ask?” She wondered if he and Jules had argued.

  Joe just shrugged his shoulders, so Helen didn’t pry any further and they played on.

  “I miss my mother,�
� Joe said as Helen took one of his knights.

  She didn’t want to do anything to stop him talking, so she kept her eyes on the board.

  “I know you do,” Helen answered softly. “I didn’t even know my mother and I miss her; it must be so much worse for you.”

  “She liked sugared almonds too.”

  Helen smiled. “Then it sounds as if she had good taste. What else did she like?”

  “Dogs. And books; she read to us every day.”

  “Everyone here has told me how much she loved you and your brother.”

  There was silence for a few moments, until Joe asked, “Do you think dead people go to Heaven?”

  Helen wondered if she should try and reassure him or just be truthful, but deceit wasn’t really in her nature, and Joe didn’t seem to be looking for platitudes.

  “If they’re good people, which your mother seems to have been.”

  “Is your mother in Heaven?” Joe asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she broke one of the Commandments before she died. I hope that God forgave her though, and accepted her into Heaven.”

  They played on in silence until Joe checked Helen’s king, leaving her trying to reason her way out of her predicament.

  “They say my mother did something bad before she died.”

  Helen looked up, shocked. How much did he know?

  “Who is ‘they’?” she asked.

  “Grandma Pearl,

  Helen couldn’t believe what she was hearing; what kind of person told a grieving son that his mother was a bad person?

  “Did she tell you what your mother did?”

  “No, she said I'm too young to know.”

  Helen gave a mental sigh of relief; Joe was too young to be troubled by adultery between parents who didn’t love each other.

  “Well, even if she did do something wrong, that doesn’t make her a bad person.”

  “I don’t think she did anything wrong.”

  “Well, you would know better than I.” Helen finally admitted defeat and laid her king down. “You win.”

  Joe didn’t look very happy about it.

 

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