Forever

by Holt, Cheryl

“Terrific. Did you live in the manor before? Or did you live in the village?”

  “I lived in the manor. There’s an apartment behind the kitchen. It was mine.”

  “I know it well. I’ve been staying in it myself, but I’ll be out in the morning. It can be yours again. You can move in immediately.”

  “Ah…ah…thank you. That’s very kind.”

  “I wouldn’t call it kind. Lord Middlebury is anxious for estate affairs to revert to how they used to be. He’ll be delighted to have you.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

  “Yes. Tomorrow.”

  “I’ll just…show myself out.”

  She nodded to them, then left. They tarried, listening to her footsteps echoing as she marched across the foyer.

  Helen sat again, and she picked up her teacup and drank as if naught had happened. Becky and Simon gawked at her as if she’d suddenly grown a second head.

  “Helen, what’s wrong?” her father inquired. “I’ve been polite enough to let you refuse to answer, but I can’t be polite any longer. Explain yourself.”

  “Lord Middlebury has advised me that my job as housekeeper is ending.”

  “What?” they cried together.

  “He wanted me to wait until he returned so he could find me another post, but I’ve found one on my own. I already wrote to accept.”

  Becky looked alarmed. “Have you tipped off your rocker?”

  “No. Lord Middlebury asked me to depart—”

  “He wouldn’t have!” Becky huffed.

  “How little you know, Becky. With Mrs. Jenkins eager to have my spot, it’s an easy choice. She’ll be much better at supervising this monstrosity than I ever could be. She’ll assist Lord Middlebury in all the ways I couldn’t.”

  “Helen,” her father said, “were you bickering? Is that it? Was he awful to you? He wouldn’t have meant his comments. He has so many demons, and he lashes out, but he always calms down.”

  “No, Simon, I’m certain he meant them, and they weren’t awful. He simply reminded me of my place, which I definitely needed to hear. I’ve been fond of him, so I forgot who and where I am, but it’s been a benefit for me to readjust my thinking.”

  “Your thinking?” Becky chided. “Your place? You’ve arranged a new position for yourself, but how could you? Everything here is perfect. You’re insane to give it up without a fight.”

  “Actually, I’m more lucid than I’ve been in ages. I was hired to teach at Miss Peabody’s. I went to school there years ago. A friend of mine owns it.”

  “Lady Run?”

  “Yes, she offered me a job, and I start right away.”

  “But…what about us?” Becky asked.

  “I’m sorry, Becky, but I can’t worry about you anymore. I have to worry about myself for a change. Lord Middlebury will probably allow you to remain—if you don’t aggravate him too much.”

  “If you flee Middlebury,” Simon said, “you’ll likely never see him again.”

  “It’s my plan exactly,” Helen told him.

  “You’re not serious.”

  “I absolutely am. I’m finished acting like a dunce. Lord Middlebury bluntly informed me that I’m just the housekeeper, and I can never be more than that. And as we’ve discovered from Mrs. Jenkins’s arrival, housekeepers are a penny a dozen.”

  “Hayden wouldn’t want you to go.”

  “Hayden has demanded it. He and I are simply confused on the timing. He was hoping it would be in a few weeks, but I’ve decided it should occur more rapidly.”

  “When he gets back, he might have his daughters with him,” her father said. “Wouldn’t you like to meet them?”

  “I’d just as soon not.”

  “You have lost your mind,” Becky sneered. “I’m convinced of it.”

  Helen set her empty teacup on the tray. “Now then, you’ll have to excuse me, but I have to pack. I won’t be joining you for supper.”

  “You have to join us!” Becky complained. “You can’t refuse.”

  “I’m catching the mail coach at eight when it passes through the village. If you’d like to bid me farewell, you’ll have to rise early, but if you’d rather sleep in, that’s fine. We can avoid any tearful goodbyes.”

  She walked out, feeling free, as if she could finally breathe.

  * * * *

  “We can’t let her leave,” Becky said to her father.

  “No. It’s my intent that we stay at Middlebury forever, with Hayden Henley as my son-in-law. Despite what Helen supposes, if she’s not here, we won’t be permitted to stay. It’s not as if you and I have any options besides Middlebury.”

  “Would he really have ordered her to depart?”

  “I’m sure of it, but he’d have merely been grouchy and raging.” Her father scoffed. “Honestly, Becky, you’ve observed them together. Hayden is so besotted his affection practically oozes out of him.”

  “He doesn’t realize how fond he is?”

  “No, he doesn’t. His temper flared, and he was a beast to her, but he’ll regret it. He’ll stroll in shortly, laden down with flowers and candy and apologies. She needs to tarry so, eventually, he can show her how sorry he is.”

  Becky would have liked to agree, but she knew how the world worked. An aristocrat didn’t marry the penniless daughter of a defrocked vicar. Nor would he marry his housekeeper. It simply didn’t happen.

  Then again, Hayden’s and Helen’s relationship hadn’t wound down an ordinary path. Their union seemed destined to transpire, and if they tried to separate, it might send the entire universe spinning out of control.

  “What should we do?” she asked.

  “I’ll write to Hayden to explain the situation. In the morning, we’ll have Will race to Wallace Downs with my letter. I’m betting—after Hayden learns what she’s planned—he’ll rush home to stop her.”

  “And if he doesn’t?”

  “It’s not as if she’s about to vanish. She’ll be at Miss Peabody’s school.”

  “What if he doesn’t come to his senses? What if he doesn’t rush home to stop her?”

  “You and I will continue to scheme on him until he admits the error of his ways.” He nodded with resolve. “Fetch me some paper and a quill. I’ve already figured out what to say.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Alex stood with his family in the driveway at Wallace Downs. Though it was a ridiculous piece of vanity, he was attired in his finery, playing the part of the rich, landed gentleman he was. With his old enemy about to arrive, he was determined to show off.

  Abigail stood with him, holding his hand, and she was trembling slightly. He kept squeezing her fingers, a quiet message to calm down. There was no reason to be so overwhelmed.

  The twins were in front of them, fidgeting and so excessively excited that they couldn’t be still or be quiet. Before Abigail had had a chance to apprise them about their father, the scamps had already heard the news.

  They’d spent hours preparing, trying to plan every aspect down to the tiniest detail, almost as if they were terrified he wouldn’t like them, but they needn’t have fretted. In their white dresses, shined shoes, braided hair, and starched petticoats, they looked beautiful, exactly as the daughters of an earl should look.

  Arrayed behind them were Abigail’s sisters, Catherine and Sarah. Sarah’s husband, Nicholas, was positioned between them and tightly clutching their arms as if—should he let go—they might simply collapse.

  Nicholas’s mother, Mildred, whom the twins considered their grandmother, was off to the side. Alex’s sister, Faith, had even walked over from her cottage to be present. She was flanked by her guests, Reggie and Susan Miller, who’d come for a visit but who seemed to be staying forever.

  The household was in an uproar, with the servants being as astounded as everyone else. The story of Henley’s return from the dead had spread like wildfire, and people would gossip about it for decades. The staff
was thrilled to participate in the monumental event, and all of them had put in extra effort to make the property perfect.

  Alex was proud and pleased, but exhausted and disconcerted too. He was telling himself that all would be well. He and Henley had met face to face, had conversed like adults. They hadn’t reignited their quarrel. They hadn’t fought.

  He’d informed Henley that he would never upset Abigail, and Henley had agreed that he wouldn’t either. Hopefully—with that base as their goal—they would be able to stagger forward.

  Alex’s life was in the midst of enormous change. From the day Abigail had strolled in earlier in the summer to work as the twins’ governess, he’d been immersed in a period of great upheaval. He was eager for matters to smooth out and revert to normal, but maybe they never would.

  “I’m so nervous,” Abigail said.

  “Don’t be nervous. He’s your brother. It’s completely natural for him to call on us.”

  “It’s not natural. Not in my world. Not now. Not after all these years have passed.” She peeked up at him. “Was it appropriate for all of us to dress up and wait for him as if he’s a king or a conquering hero? Are we overdoing it?”

  “We could hardly have loitered in the house. That would have been rude.”

  “I suppose.”

  Millie peered up at Abigail. “Where is he, Aunt Abigail? Why isn’t he here?”

  “Might he have had an accident?” Mary anxiously asked.

  “Nothing happened,” Abigail assured them. “Keep watching. See who can catch a glimpse of him first.”

  Abigail had sent footmen out on the road to track Henley and Christopher. At last report, they were a few miles away, just on the other side of the village.

  “Will he like us?” Millie inquired for what had to be the hundredth time.

  Alex smiled down at her. “Yes, you pretty little thing. He’ll like you very, very much.”

  “He already likes you,” Sarah added. “Remember? When Alex talked to him, you girls were the only topic he cared to discuss.”

  The twins shared a secret glance. They made him wish he could read minds and decipher what they were saying to each other. Or it might be better that he didn’t know. With how horridly he’d treated them in the past, he probably shouldn’t hear.

  Alex had stellar vision, and he saw the two men, but didn’t comment. He wanted the twins to be the ones who sighted them. They were agog and impatient, and their enthusiasm depressed him.

  He had no doubt, given a choice, they’d rather live with Henley, but Alex had gotten used to thinking of them as his daughters. He’d gotten used to having them around and underfoot.

  Yes, he and Abigail would have many children of their own, but that wouldn’t dim his affection for them. After all he’d endured with them, he felt as if they were war survivors, that they were bonded as no father and daughters could ever be.

  “There he is!” Millie pointed, and she grinned up at Alex. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, that’s him,” Alex murmured.

  The twins squealed with joy, and there was a collective gasp by the assembled group. Christopher and Henley were trotting up the lane, and suddenly, they rode out of the trees. Christopher had donned his traveling clothes—coat, trousers, and boots—and looked like the British gentleman he was, but Henley looked like a damned pirate.

  He hadn’t bothered to clean himself up. His blond hair was unbarbered, and it curled over his shoulders. He hadn’t shaved, so stubble darkened his chin. There was an earring dangling from his ear, which Alex viewed as the oddest thing about him.

  He was armed to the teeth, as if he’d expected an attack during the trip. But then, he’d just been shot by Desdemona right in his own garden, so perhaps he was wise to be wary, but all those weapons left Alex uneasy. What must he have suffered to be so cautious and mistrustful?

  Though Alex would never admit it, he was extremely curious as to the answer to that question, and he was dying to learn about Henley’s adventures. He couldn’t wait to eavesdrop while Henley’s sisters interrogated him and pried out details.

  Christopher was laughing and waving, Henley stoic and taciturn. They approached until they were directly in front of Alex.

  “Guess who I brought!” Christopher said to the crowd in general.

  Henley didn’t speak a greeting, and his sisters hesitated, not certain of the protocol. His hot gaze swept across the gathering, then froze on the only two he seemed truly intent on seeing.

  With the agility of a circus performer, he leapt to the ground and marched over to Mary and Millie. He stared down, then he fell to his knees and reached out to them. They ran over and tackled him, practically knocking him down.

  For an eternity, they huddled together, locked in a poignant embrace. Their reunion was so touching that people were sniffling and wiping their eyes. Alex, himself, was getting a tad misty.

  Finally, Henley stood, and he picked up the twins, but they weren’t small girls any longer. They were almost ten, but he was strong as an ox and—despite his recent wound—he didn’t notice how heavy they were.

  A daughter on each hip, he shifted his focus to his sisters. He nodded at each of them, then he said, “I bet you’re wondering where I’ve been.”

  His sisters shrieked with delight and rushed over to hug him as tightly as they could.

  * * * *

  Robert was riding down the rural road, his son, Will, by his side, the gate to Wallace Downs just ahead.

  Robert had forced Will to accompany him. Pastor Barnes had whispered a quiet comment about his antics with Becky, and Robert had instantly gone to Will and pried out the truth. The loose, immoral tart had been dragging him into deserted parlors, and they were lucky no genuine damage had occurred.

  How would he keep the boy’s trousers buttoned? He had to lay down the law to Hayden. Becky Barnes needed to depart Middlebury at the earliest opportunity.

  He studied the woods, lost in thought and reflecting on the prior time he’d passed through the area. He and Hayden had just arrived in England, and they’d been in a hurry to continue on to Middlebury and not sure what they’d find once they were there.

  They’d actually stopped in the village and had eaten at the local tavern. The patrons had been gossiping about Alex Wallace’s pending nuptials. Who could have imagined he was about to marry Hayden’s sister?

  He was thinking too about Jasper and Desdemona Henley and what a pathetic pair of human beings they were. He hoped Hayden was done fussing with them, but Robert doubted it.

  He’d warned Hayden to be suspicious of them as he’d blustered in and seized control, but in Hayden’s opinion, they were lazy idiots who weren’t worth a minute of fretting. Perhaps the wound on his arm would spur him to be more concerned. If either of them threatened Hayden ever again, it would be their last stupid move.

  Robert would guarantee it.

  His contemplation was so grim that he wasn’t paying attention as was his usual habit, and Will yanked him out of his reverie.

  “While we’re away,” Will asked, “will everyone be safe at Middlebury?”

  “Why? Are you worried?”

  “Desdemona won’t sneak back to cause trouble, will she?”

  “I’m predicting she will. She’s deranged, so we’ll have to always be on guard. But naught will happen while Hayden is away. Desdemona is determined to kill him. She’s not angry at anybody else.”

  “When should I give Hayden the letter?” Will inquired. “Pastor Barnes made me promise to deliver it right away.”

  “Let me have it.”

  Robert extended his hand, and Will scowled. “It’s not yours.”

  “Don’t be daft. Give it to me.”

  Will dithered, then obeyed. Robert broke the seal, not caring that he was snooping into Hayden’s private correspondence. If Hayden didn’t like it, he could order Robert not to snoop in the future.

  Will peeked ove
r. “What does it say?”

  “Pastor Barnes has informed Hayden that Miss Barnes left Middlebury.”

  “I figured that was it. It’s all anyone is talking about. Did Hayden tell you why she went?”

  “If he’d confided in me, I wouldn’t chat about it with you, but no, he didn’t mention it, so I have no idea. I thought she was happy at Middlebury.”

  “I thought she was too, but Becky claims Hayden planned to fire her when he returned from Wallace Downs. Apparently, he didn’t like how she was doing her job.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “Why would Becky lie about it?”

  “Why indeed?” Robert mused.

  He was irked over the situation and was terribly sorry for Miss Barnes. She had to be shocked and disconsolate. He wasn’t surprised that Hayden had proceeded—the lonely, fetching woman couldn’t remain—but why act so abruptly?

  Hayden hadn’t liked her inviting Alex Wallace to the estate and had felt she’d overstepped her bounds, but he hadn’t been overly enraged. He definitely hadn’t said a word about firing her.

  She’d found a new position teaching at a school, which wasn’t the worst ending for her, but what about her father and sister? They were still at Middlebury.

  Robert asked Will, “Why didn’t Miss Barnes take her father and her sister with her? She’s always assumed responsibility for them. Why leave them behind?”

  Will shrugged. “They might be quarreling.”

  Robert stuffed the letter into the bag on his saddle, then he motioned toward the gate that led into Wallace Downs. “I’m ready to meet Hayden’s family.”

  Will frowned. “What about the letter?”

  “He’ll have it eventually.”

  “I swore I’d deliver it immediately.”

  “And you delivered it immediately—to me. I’ll hand it over at the correct time.”

  “Why shouldn’t he have it now?”

  “He’s busy with other matters. He hasn’t seen his sisters in ten years, and he hasn’t ever seen his daughters. We’re not bothering him about a servant back at Middlebury.”