by Holt, Cheryl
He wanted Helen to march in, clean him up, then send him to bed. Perhaps even to tuck him in. Since the day his mother had passed away, he’d never had a female tend him. Would she sit with him and hold his hand? Would she keep watch through the night to be sure he was all right?
“What now?” he asked Wallace.
“I guess we should decide how to muddle forward,” Wallace said. “I won’t fight with you over any issue. It would upset Abigail.”
“No, I would never upset her.” It was risky to mention Wallace’s ex-wife. The tart had caused so much trouble, but Hayden did it anyway. “What happened to Eugenia?”
“I divorced her. You never heard?”
“No, I’ve never heard much about you at all.”
Which wasn’t precisely true. Simon Barnes had insisted Wallace suffered all kinds of difficulties after the duel, but Hayden hadn’t necessarily believed him.
“Over this past summer,” Wallace said, “Eugenia moved to America. I didn’t like her to be around the twins.”
“Why?”
“She was awful to them, and after she’d visit, they’d be extremely disturbed. I bribed her to go away and leave them alone.”
“Have they always resided with you?”
“Not for the first six years. I finally took them away from her. She couldn’t care for them, and they were wallowing in squalid conditions.”
“And I wasn’t here to help them.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. The law and the Church consider them to be mine. Their situation was my responsibility—and I failed them.”
“Just so you know, I wasn’t aware Eugenia had had a child. A friend wrote us when we were in Italy. She claimed Eugenia had lost the baby, but now, I’m wondering if my mother didn’t lie to me about it. All this time, I had no idea I was a father.”
“It must have been quite a shock to stop by Wallace Downs.”
“Yes. I’m still reeling over it.”
“I can imagine.”
Hayden could have bitten off his tongue rather than inquire, but Wallace had had such a major impact on his life, yet Hayden possessed very little information about him.
“You had some legal problems after the duel,” he said. “You were banished?”
“Yes, for five years, and I was kicked out of the army. I was jailed too. My property was almost forfeit over a fine that was levied. Apparently, a commoner such as myself can’t shoot at a viscount.”
Hayden snorted. “It’s generally frowned upon.”
“I paid a very steep price for my stupidity.”
“As did I.”
“You survived.”
“Barely.”
They stared and stared, and Hayden blurted out, “I want my daughters.”
“That’s a very brazen request. I know nothing about you, and I’m not about to hand them over to a stranger.”
“I’m their father,” Hayden spat.
“So am I,” Wallace countered.
“I want them!”
“We’ll talk about it.”
“I won’t bother talking. They should be with me. They should grow up at Middlebury.”
“Your sister will have an opinion about that. She intends that they grow up with her at Wallace Downs, and Sarah’s mother-in-law will have to weigh in. She’s become a grandmother to them. I’ll only do what’s in their best interest, and it doesn’t matter what you would like to have happen.”
“I’m their father,” Hayden said again. “I am what’s best for them.”
“We’ll talk about it,” Wallace maddeningly repeated.
He rose and went to the door. Hayden was too exhausted to follow him, but he listened as Wallace spoke to Helen.
“He’s about to collapse. Why don’t you get him upstairs and into his bed? His wound should be cleaned and bandaged. He could probably use a doctor and a hefty dose of laudanum too.”
“You haven’t been in there very long,” Helen complained, “but you haven’t been shouting. What have you decided?”
“We’ve come to an understanding. My brother-in-law and I have a room at the coaching inn in the village. We’ll stop by in the morning, and if Henley is up to it, we’ll ride to Wallace Downs together.”
Hayden didn’t feel they’d resolved anything, and he forced himself to peer over at them. “I didn’t agree to that.”
“Be silent, Hayden.” Helen didn’t so much as glance in his direction but kept her focus on Wallace. “There’s no need for you to pay for a coaching inn. Please stay here. We have a thousand bedchambers in this monstrosity of a house, and they’re nearly all empty.”
There was a lengthy pause as Wallace pondered her invitation. Ultimately, he said, “This was a lot to take in.”
“I know.”
“I expect we’ll be more comfortable there. We’ll check on him at ten tomorrow.”
“He has the constitution of a war horse,” she said. “Once I nurse him a bit, he’ll be good as new.”
“I’ll hope that’s true. We’ll see you in the morning.”
Wallace and Stanton marched off, and Helen left too, being the polite person she was and escorting them out. When she returned, her father was with her, observing all with a keen interest. Hayden staggered to his feet.
“I have to lie down,” he told her.
“Won’t you tarry for a minute to tell me what you discussed with Mr. Wallace?”
“No.”
“What about Desdemona? Won’t you tell me about that either?”
“No. Robert is out in the stables with her, but Will and Tom can watch her. Send someone to fetch him.”
“I can wash and dress your wound.”
“I want Robert,” he coldly seethed.
He wasn’t angry with her precisely, but maybe he was.
It seemed so cheeky of her to have brought Alex Wallace to his home. She’d usurped so much authority and had overstepped her bounds in a hundred different ways, but with how poorly he was feeling, he was afraid he might be mistaken.
He was anxious to ask Robert what he thought. He couldn’t have her gazing at him with those big green eyes of hers. He could never think straight when she did.
He started out, and at his refusing to oblige her, she was extremely annoyed.
“So just like that, you’re heading upstairs?” she fumed.
“Yes, just like that. I’m exhausted and—as you’ve noticed—your cousin almost killed me.”
“I want to tend you!”
“And I want Robert to do it! Send for him.”
He pushed by her and stomped off.
* * * *
“Could you ever have imagined such an ending?”
“No.”
Alex was riding down the lane with Christopher, having just departed Middlebury Manor. His mind was awhirl, his perplexity profound. He was so dizzy and off balance he could barely stay in the saddle.
“Are you positive it’s him?” Christopher asked.
“It’s him all right.”
“Where has he been all these years?”
“I’m guessing it hasn’t been anywhere pleasant. He’s quite tattered around the edges.”
“Well, in the man’s defense, he was just shot. He’s a tough cur. I’ll say that for him.”
“I counted a dozen weapons strapped to him in various spots,” Alex said. “Why would he carry so many?”
“They obviously didn’t help him with Desdemona.”
“A decade ago, he was so irritating. Women threw themselves at his feet, and he strutted about like a vain peacock.”
“Sort of like you.”
Alex ignored the taunt. “We were both so young when we fought. I, at least, had been trained as a soldier, so I’d endured plenty of brawls and rough living. He was fresh from university, and I doubt he’d ever so much as engaged in fisticuffs before we crossed paths.”
“You dueled with him anyway? That m
akes it sound unfair.”
“You know about my temper, and Eugenia was driving me insane with her wild antics. She was so out of control.”
His mother had convinced him to marry Eugenia, and he’d proceeded without argument. She’d seemed pretty and vivacious, but she’d quickly altered into an unrestrained, unruly strumpet who couldn’t tamp down her worst urges. Gradually, it became impossible for her to behave morally.
When he’d sparred with Henley, he and Eugenia had been at the very beginning of her collapse, and he hadn’t realized how appalling it would grow to be. Eventually, he’d viewed her as being an ideal candidate for an asylum, but those places were horrid, and he’d never had the heart to lock her away.
“What did you two talk about?” Christopher asked.
“Not much.”
“Not much? He’s been dead for ten years, and the last time you saw him you tried to murder him. You were secluded in a parlor with him, and you didn’t talk about much?”
“He’s demanding custody of my daughters.”
“They’re his daughters too,” Christopher cautiously said.
“Only because he fornicated with my wife. Once—if you believe her.”
“Will you give them to him?”
Alex scoffed. “Absolutely not. He’s not the cock-sure dandy he was back then. He’s a mature and shrewd man, a very changed man, and I’m predicting he’s had some incredibly difficult experiences. Should he even be around children?”
“With him sitting there wounded and bleeding—and scarcely noticing—he definitely appeared to be dangerous.”
“I agree, so I told him it was a brazen request, and he’s a stranger to me. I’m not about to hand them over.”
“I bet that didn’t go over very well. He’s not the type to take no for an answer.”
“No, he isn’t,” Alex said, “and we have to learn more about him.”
“He’s a member of the family—like it or not.”
“I don’t like it,” Alex groused.
“What will Abigail’s opinion be about him? What about Catherine and Sarah? This is all too much to absorb. How will you tell them? And what about breaking the news to the twins? That will be particularly tricky.”
“Remember when we left home yesterday? They were standing out by the road, hoping he’d ride by.”
“He wasn’t a ghost.”
“No.”
Alex was quite alarmed about Henley and what the twins would think of him. Alex was close to them, but he wasn’t close either. They lived in their own world where they had their secrets and schemes they never shared with adults.
When they were young and still with their mother, the conditions had been dreadful. Then, after Alex had obtained custody, he hadn’t improved their situation. Yes, they’d been fed and housed and clothed, but he hadn’t actually cared for them. He’d hired nannies and governesses, and it was how he’d met Abigail. She’d been working for him and tending the twins.
They resided in the manor now and were part of the family, but they hadn’t forgotten the period when he’d kept them at arm’s length, when they’d stayed with his sister, Faith, over in her cottage.
He’d been pompous and distant and had hated to fuss with them. They’d been Hayden Henley’s daughters, and they looked exactly like him. Every time he’d glanced at them, he’d been vividly reminded of their father. It had been a petty attitude, and he was ashamed of himself for it.
He’d blamed them for his wife’s adultery. After all, they were the shocking proof of Eugenia’s madness and licentious habits, but they weren’t responsible for the sins of the negligent parents who’d created them.
Abigail had once confided that, when they were little, they hadn’t known Henley was dead. No one had bothered to tell them, and they’d been waiting for him to arrive and fetch them. They’d persuaded themselves that he wasn’t aware of where they were, and after he discovered their location, he’d come for them.
It was a painful story, but it was a perilous story too.
From how they’d been hiding in the woods, watching for Henley—their portrait tucked into a pouch for him to have—it was obvious they were on pins and needles, eager for him to claim them.
If Henley sauntered up the drive at Wallace Downs, Alex had no doubt they would be ecstatic. Would they beg to leave with him? Would they beg to move to Middlebury?
Alex could refuse to let them, and he imagined Abigail would be on his side, but if the girls were adamant about traipsing off with him, how could Alex prevent it?
They weren’t tiny any longer. They were about to celebrate their tenth birthday. Even if he could stave off a change of circumstance for the moment, he couldn’t manage it forever.
He snorted with disgust. For years, he’d been aggravated by their presence. Now their father had appeared—their other father, their real father—and Alex was furious to suppose he might have to give them up. Perhaps he was as deranged as Eugenia had always been.
“Why are you fuming and snorting?” Christopher asked.
“My life has meandered in the oddest directions.”
“This is the oddest direction of all.”
“You’re right about that.”
They had reached the main road. If he turned to the left, it would be to the village and their coaching inn. If he turned the other way, it would be to Wallace Downs. He reined in and stopped.
“Would you do me a favor?” he inquired.
“If I can.”
“I should head home. I had assumed we could travel with Henley tomorrow, but I shouldn’t stroll in the front door with him when his identity hasn’t been announced. I should prepare everyone first. Especially the twins.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
“Would you remain here tonight and check on him in the morning? If he’s in better shape, could you escort him to Wallace Downs on your own? Would you mind? Or would that be too much?”
Christopher shrugged. “No, I don’t mind. The trip will give me many hours alone with him. I’ll be able to pry out details as to where he’s been.”
“It would be helpful.”
“He’d likely be more open with me than he would be with you. You’d just glower and insult him, then you’d both be in a snit for the whole journey.”
“You know me well.”
“I realize you’d never admit it,” Christopher said, “but you and Henley are an awful lot alike.”
“Don’t even say it.”
“I might send a note to that housekeeper, that Miss Barnes? She had an intriguing relationship with him.”
“She bossed him around as if they were married.”
“Maybe I can wrangle a supper invitation. I’ll charm her and learn what I can. I’ll pester her father too. Between the two of them, they’ll have a thousand interesting tales to share.”
“What a perfect plan. I wish I’d thought of it.”
“If he’s ill or feverish in the morning, should I tarry until his condition improves and bring him later on? Or should I come to Wallace Downs immediately? What is your preference?”
“Do what you feel is best,” Alex advised, “but don’t delay too long. I don’t want you in trouble with your wife.”
“When she hears this news, she’ll be glad to have me tarry so I can become friends with her brother.”
“Anything is possible.”
“Deep down, he might not be so bad,” Christopher claimed.
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
“I mean, we’ve all accepted Nicholas. If we can accept him, we can accept anybody.”
“True.”
Before marrying Sarah, Nicholas had been the most debauched cad in the world. He’d dragged her off and eloped with her, but so far, it had worked out.
Could they figure out how to interact with Hayden Henley? Could Alex figure it out? His wife and her sisters would be elated about Henley. His daughters to
o, so he had to rearrange his opinion or he’d wind up on the opposite side of the fence from his whole family.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said.
“If not tomorrow, then a day or two after that. Tell Catherine not to fret.”
“I will. Good luck.”
Alex trotted off, and Christopher hollered after him, “And Alex?”
Alex glanced over his shoulder. “What?”
“We have to call him Middlebury, hm? Not Henley, but Middlebury.”
“I suppose so.”
Gad, what a mess!
He spun and kept on.
* * * *
“You didn’t murder him,” Robert said.
“I considered it.”
“No, you didn’t, so I guess you’ve matured.”
Robert was in the sitting room of Hayden’s bedroom suite. Hayden was seated on a chair, his shirt off, his arm balanced on a table. Robert stood over him, a bowl of bloody water and a few soiled rags shoved off to the side.
Hayden gestured to his wound. “What do you think?”
“You’ll live.”
“Will you stitch it?”
“It’s not that deep.”
The shot had seared his skin, his shirt catching fire and burning him in spots. It was a bit blistered. Robert held up a bottle of whiskey and waved it at Hayden.
“Grit your teeth. Don’t cry like a baby.”
“Have I ever?”
“No.”
Robert had witnessed Hayden as he’d endured the most brutal of punishments, and he’d never uttered a peep. He had a higher ability to tolerate pain than any person Robert had ever met.
He poured liquor over the injury, stoically observing as Hayden hissed and cursed, then Robert wiped away the residue.
“Is once enough to disinfect it?” Hayden asked.
“Should be.”
“Bandage me.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Robert had doctored so many men in his life that he could have earned an income as a physician. He finished up, then Hayden went into the bedchamber and returned with a clean shirt.
As he pulled it on, Robert glimpsed his ruined back, and he concealed how it startled him. Hayden’s scars were hideous to view, and Robert always forgot how badly he’d been maimed. Most of it had happened before they’d crossed paths, before Robert had taken him in hand and calmed his worst impulses.