Her heart sinking as she watched the elderly countess wend her stately way across the room, Helena could not help feeling that events were moving far too quickly for her liking. This latest development was far beyond that which she had originally set out to achieve in her efforts to save her father from further disappointment.
‘Try not to look so worried, Miss Wheatley,’ came Richard’s resonant voice at her elbow. As far as he was concerned, Helena had proved herself more than capable of holding her own in any circle but, having registered her obvious consternation, it appeared that some sort of reassurance on that point would not go amiss. ‘After seeing the remarkable way in which you stood up to her ladyship the other day, I cannot help but feel that his Royal Highness will be as putty in your hands!’
Even though Helena was quick to dismiss such an unlikely scenario, Markfield’s intended words of encouragement brought a swift smile to her lips. ‘A most redoubtable lady, your grandmother,’ she ventured, turning to face him.
‘She certainly takes great pains to give that impression,’ replied Richard, with an answering smile. ‘But, I have to admit that I have always been of the opinion that she is nowhere near as hidebound as she would have everyone believe.’
‘In my limited experience,’ returned Helena, looking up at him with a challenging gleam in her eyes, ‘very few people are!’
Richard started and then, as a slight flush rose in his cheeks, he said stiffly, ‘You must allow me to beg your pardon for that wretched display of bad manners earlier!’
Helena shook her head. ‘There is really no need, your lordship,’ she assured him earnestly. ‘On reflection, I am ashamed to admit that I was so taken up with the unexpected adulation that I was beginning to lose sight of the purpose of it all.’
‘I find it hard to imagine that such adulation comes as any sort of novelty to you,’ countered Richard, with a teasing grin.
Their eyes met and, for one breathless moment, time seemed to hang on a thread until, suddenly conscious of his surroundings, Richard forced himself to tear his gaze away from hers and, swallowing hard, managed to compose himself sufficiently to suggest that perhaps they had better follow the rest of their group into the refreshment room.
Helena was at a loss to understand what had happened in that moment. An extraordinary tingling sensation had run through her entire body, leaving her trembling with shock and it was some moments before she was capable of uttering any sort of sensible response.
Struggling to conjure up something to say that might lighten the charged atmosphere that seemed to have developed between them, she was struck with a sudden inspiration and, turning towards him, she said, ‘I have not yet had the opportunity to thank you for the flowers that you so very kindly sent me. They are truly beautiful and quite my most favourite varieties.’
Gratified to learn that his supposition had not proved him wrong, Richard’s eyes lit up. ‘It was my pleasure, entirely, Miss Wheatley.’ He smiled. ‘I had a feeling that I recognised the perfume you were wearing and had them sent up from the estate—the woods and fields are full of primroses and violets at this time of year.’
To his surprise, Helena heaved a great sigh and said wistfully, ‘How I envy you!’
Richard’s brow puckered. ‘Envy me, Miss Wheatley? How so?’
‘Why, for being able to take off for the countryside whenever the fancy takes you, of course.’
He was about to protest that, if she seriously believed that this was how large estates were run, then her education must be sadly lacking but then, curious as to her reason for having made such a remark, he said, ‘That rather sounds as if you yourself hankered to do likewise.’
‘Oh, but I do!’ she replied instantly. ‘Ever since I was a child, I have pestered my father to purchase us our own country property. Sadly, he has always maintained that our twice-yearly visits to my Uncle Daniels’s village should be more than enough for anyone.’
Captivated by the fervent look on her face, his eyes crinkled and he laughed. ‘But not for you, I take it?’
‘Absolutely not!’ she exclaimed. ‘Hiring a cottage for a month in the summertime and two weeks at Christmas is hardly living in the country. My dearest wish is that my father will sell up his practice and move out of town to some peaceful retreat where he could just relax and take things easy for once in his life.’
Still smiling, he felt constrained to point out that even small estates did not run themselves.
‘No, I must suppose not,’ she rejoined. ‘And I imagine that running a large estate such as yours must be an even greater responsibility?’
His smile faded and, as his most recent quandary again invaded his thoughts, a pensive look came into his eyes. ‘An unlooked-for responsibility, as far as I am concerned,’ he replied, ‘and one that I would happily have given my right arm not to have acquired.’
After silently digesting this somewhat unpleasant image for a moment or two, Helena asked, hesitantly, ‘Were you very close to the cousin who died, your lordship?’
A faraway look came into Richard’s eyes as he sought to answer. During their boyhood, the Standish cousins, Simon, Charles and he himself, had spent a great deal of time together on their grandfather’s estate. From climbing the trees in the parkland to fishing for trout in the winding river that ran through the property, they had all learned to know and love every inch of the place. It had been very hard for him to come to terms with Simon’s death, especially in view of what he had lately learned from his grandmother about his elder cousin’s dissolute lifestyle.
‘Simon and I were inseparable as youngsters,’ he said slowly. ‘But then, gradually, as various events overtook the pair of us—my father’s death and my own military service—we seemed to see less and less of one another. Nevertheless, his death came as a great shock to me and I have to admit that not a day has gone by when I have not wished it otherwise.’
‘Had you not been obliged to return to England, would it have been your intention to stay in the army?’
He shook his head. ‘I could have stayed on, I suppose, but, as it happens, I had always rather fancied setting myself up as a racehorse-breeder—out of the question now, of course.’
At once, Helena’s eager expression returned. ‘A stud farm! What a marvellous idea! I once paid a visit to one when we were staying at my uncle’s house near Lambourne. Horses are such beautiful creatures, are they not? Imagine having one’s own string.’
‘You like to ride, then, I take it?’ he asked, concluding that the Wheatleys probably had their own stables and wondered if it would be worth sending down to Markfield for one of his thoroughbreds, in order that he might invite her to ride with him.
‘Whenever I get the chance!’ she replied fervently. ‘Only hired hacks these days, I am sorry to say. Sadly, however, since my cousin is still something of a novice, we seldom venture further than Green Park.’
‘Not to the Row, then?’
She gave a regretful shake of her head. ‘Jason sometimes used to allow me to accompany him there when I was younger—we had our own mounts in those days, of course—but after he died, there was seldom any opportunity.’ She paused, then, on a sudden impulse, laid her hand gently on Richard’s sleeve and murmured, ‘I do understand what it is to lose someone close, believe me, your lordship.’
At her touch, a quiver of shock ran through him and, for an instant, Richard found it impossible to reply. Horribly conscious that her impetuous and somewhat forward gesture had affronted him, a warm flush began to spread across Helena’s cheeks, but, the instant she started to remove her hand from his arm, his own came up, capturing her fingers in his warm, firm clasp.
‘I know that you do, my dear,’ he said gruffly. ‘And, if you were as fond of your brother as I was of Simon you, possibly better than most, will also understand why I must do whatever is necessary in order to put Markfield Hall back on its feet. The house has been in the family for generations—it is the place where we played together—g
rew up together. Every single memory I have of Simon is centred there. The idea of allowing it to fall into disrepair is unthinkable!’
Trembling, Helena stared up at him, her eyes wide with concern. ‘Then you must sign my father’s contract,’ she heard herself imploring him. ‘I know that he would be more than happy to advance you—’
Almost as if she had struck him, Richard let go of her hand and stepped back. His lips twisted and a look of pain crossed his face. ‘That, at present, is not an option,’ he replied shortly. Then he forced his lips into some semblance of a smile and said jauntily, ‘Come now! Surely you cannot have forgotten our agreement already? A purely temporary arrangement for our mutual benefits only. It would not do for us to lose sight of our objectives, so there will be no further mention of monies changing hands, I beg of you!’
There was an awkward pause and then, with a rueful grin, he added, ‘It would seem that I owe you yet another apology, Miss Wheatley. For me to burden you with my troubles—!’
‘Oh, no more apologies this evening, if you please, sir!’ Helena broke in, her voice wavering slightly. ‘My mother was often wont to say that a trouble shared is a trouble halved.’
As he stared down into her wide blue eyes, so full of compassion, Richard’s heart lurched and he mentally cursed himself for having ruined what had been turning out to be a hugely enjoyable interlude. Unable to prevent himself, he reached out for her hand once again and, lifting her fingers to his lips, he said softly, ‘You really are the most unusual female, Miss Wheatley. The fellow who eventually succeeds in winning your heart must consider himself most fortunate indeed!’
Much flustered, Helena made every effort to extract her hand from his grasp, only to have him tuck it firmly in the crook of his arm, after which, having pointed out that both her cousin and their friends appeared to have deserted them, he led her towards the doorway, reminding her that the delights of the supper room still awaited them.
The remainder of the evening played itself out in something of a daze, as far as Helena was concerned. She had very little idea of what she ate or drunk, and, much later, when she was safely back within the sanctuary of her own bedchamber, she could not, for the life of her, call to mind the face of a single person to whom she might have spoken or even whether the responses that she might have given had made any sense at all!
The only thing of which she could be certain was that, at some point during the course of the evening, no matter how hard she tried to deny it, the most appalling thing had happened. In failing to keep up her guard, she had fallen victim to her own sense of compassion and had actually allowed herself to warm towards a man who would never have given her a second glance had it not been for her father’s fortune! So much for her clever plan of remaining coolly detached!
As she stared at her decidedly woebegone reflection in the looking-glass, she tried desperately to recall exactly when or how this miserable state of affairs had come about. As far as she could remember, the earl had paid her no more attention than she might have expected during the early part of the evening, although it had seemed that, whenever she chanced to look in his direction, she would catch him staring at her with a very pensive expression on his face. At the time, she had supposed that he must have observed some horrendous fault in her behaviour and had straight away set about trying to curb her natural exuberance but then, when he had had the effrontery to fling those unworthy criticisms at her, she had not known whether to strike him or to run away and hide! Luckily, her inbuilt sense of decorum had prevented her from carrying out either one of these actions.
How she could possibly have gone from practically detesting the man one minute to being in perfect empathy with him the next baffled her. Apart from the earlier rather disagreeable interchange, they had exchanged very few words throughout the course of the evening. Until that final conversation which, she was bound to admit, had been proceeding very agreeably until she had committed the apparently unpardonable error of offering him financial assistance! But then, despite his having kissed her hand and making what one could only consider to be a most personal observation, he had taken great pains to avoid any further communication with her. Indeed, now that she came to think of it, he seemed to have gone out of his way to ensure that the two of them were always part of some group or other. Even in the carriage on the way home, he had been very withdrawn. Polite and courteous, of course, but, to a man of his breeding, that sort of behaviour would come as second nature; he had still managed to make it perfectly plain that he could hardly wait to take his leave.
The problem with which she was now confronted, however, was not in relation to Markfield’s conduct, but her own. The thought of having to go on meeting him, with the express purpose of advertising their supposedly imminent betrothal, did not rest easy with her, especially since she could not help feeling that, having allowed herself to view him in a different light, it would be well nigh impossible to return to her former state of cool indifference.
But, what was she to do? She knew that any sudden curtailment of her association with the Standish family was bound to have the most disastrous effect on her father’s fragile health. What possible reason could she give him for wanting to bring the relationship to a close at this early stage?
She could only hope that some sort of solution to this vexing dilemma would present itself to her very soon, otherwise she was afraid that she might well find herself very much in the suds!
Richard, too, had been pondering over the disquieting events of that first evening. Since there had been quite a crowd at their supper table, it had not been difficult to ensure that any exchanges between Helena and himself were kept, not only to an absolute minimum, but also at a relatively impersonal level. Not that such a course of action had proved particularly rewarding, as he ruefully reminded himself, for it had been quite impossible for him not to register the several perplexed glances that she had cast in his direction; nor had the gradual lessening of her earlier vivacity escaped his notice. How he had managed to keep up this detached attitude throughout the remainder of the evening, especially on the homeward journey—during which he was well aware that his manner had been particularly off-hand—he would never know! Added to which, although he had made up his mind that he would still continue to do his best to fulfil the terms of the, as yet, unsigned contract, an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach was warning him that all future transactions between Miss Wheatley and himself would need to be conducted on a strictly businesslike footing. Since she had laid down the terms of her requirements quite clearly and was merely biding her time until her father was deemed well enough to be told that she and Markfield did not suit, it was clear that to allow himself to become emotionally involved with her at this particular point in his life was the very last thing he needed!
Chapter Nine
Contrary to Helena’s somewhat nervous expectations, the proposed introduction to the Prince Regent on the following evening failed to materialise. It was true that no sooner had the curtain fallen at the end of the first act of a rather dreary opera than the countess had risen to her feet with the intention of visiting his Highness’s box. However, upon discovering that a good many of the theatre’s other patrons had decided to do likewise, she had changed her mind and hurriedly returned to her seat.
‘Another time, perhaps,’ she proclaimed, as she flicked open her fan and proceeded to flap it vigorously in front of her face which, in the process of fighting her way back through the press of people in the passage outside, had become somewhat overheated. ‘As a matter of fact, in view of the number of invitations I received this morning, it would seem that we are managing perfectly well without Prinny’s patronage. In any event, I have no mind to mingle with that sycophantic set of hangers-on—obsequious toadeaters, the lot of them! Why folk cannot allow the poor fellow to enjoy a simple evening out without forever pestering him with their petty trivialities, I simply cannot imagine!’
Biting her lip to prevent herself fr
om laughing aloud at what seemed to her to be blatant hypocrisy on her ladyship’s part, Helena shot a quick sideways glance at Markfield, only to find that he, too, appeared to be having great difficulty in controlling his amusement.
He, as it happened, had been fighting a losing battle with himself to keep his eyes trained on the stage in the face of Helena’s tantalising nearness. With her hair swept up into a soft chignon and her gown of pale chartreuse crepe cut low to reveal her neck and shoulders in all their smooth and creamy glory, it was as much as he could do to maintain his normal mien of casual urbanity, especially in view of the faint wafts of her delicate perfume that seemed hellbent upon drifting in his direction.
The sight of her mischievously laughing eyes as she turned her face in his direction was, however, just too much for him to cope with, in his present frame of mind. Rising briskly to his feet, he made for the door of the box, declaring, ‘It seems to be getting rather warm in here—I’ll just go and see if I can find us something cool to drink!’
Lottie, seated on the far right of the box, reached across and tugged at her cousin’s sleeve. ‘Could we not get up and walk about, too, Nell?’ she pleaded. ‘It is so dreadfully stuffy in here and the smell from all those oil lamps at the front of the stage is beginning to make me feel quite queasy!’
Since she had no real knowledge of what the correct procedure might be on occasions such as this, Helena, turning to the countess, enquired, ‘Would it be in order for the two of us to stroll up and down the corridor for a few moments, ma’am? My cousin is not feeling quite up to par.’
‘Then by all means take her outside,’ averred Lady Isobel, with a dismissive wave of her hand. ‘That dreadful crowd may well have thinned by now and I cannot suppose that you will come to any harm—provided that you stay together and remain within earshot, of course. No more than five minutes, mark you. His lordship is sure to be back with the drinks directly.’
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