by Anne Herries
‘I do it myself,’ she replied, her mouth softening slightly. ‘Would you care to see some of my rarer plants?’
‘Yes, very much so,’ Toby told her. ‘May we go now?’
‘I shall leave you. I must speak to someone about estate business,’ Max said. ‘Do not mind me, Sinclair. Spend as long as you like looking at plants. I shall see you later. Ma’am…I will speak to someone about that damp patch at the back of the house immediately.’
‘I am not sure that I wish to speak to you,’ Mrs Henderson said when Helene went to her bedchamber that morning. ‘I had to make excuses to Mr Bradwell yesterday—and despite what Amelia said to me, I still believe he might be a good match for you, Helene.’ She gave her daughter a look filled with reproach. ‘Amelia was so kind as to offer me a home with her. It is quite lowering to be in my position, Helene. I accepted this visit for your sake, but I cannot take more from Amelia, though she swears I should be doing her a favour by living in a house that would otherwise be left empty.’
‘Amelia is truly generous, Mama. She found me crying and would not rest until I told her why. I really could not bear to marry Mr Bradwell. I would much prefer to work for my living—as Papa and Grandfather did.’
‘Well, I suppose you will have your own way. I hope that you will never have to live as I have, Helene. I do not think you have considered what your life will be if you do not marry.’
‘Oh, Mama,’ Helene said, ‘I am so sorry for all you have suffered and I did not like to be at odds with you. I truly wish that I could make things better for you. It is because of the way that the duke has treated you—would continue to treat you!—that I do not wish to be taken up as his granddaughter. Had he acted towards you as he ought, I should have honoured him and loved him.’
‘You are a good girl and I am sorry if I made you cry,’ Mrs Henderson said, pulling at her delicate lace kerchief in an agitated manner. ‘Run away now and make the most of the time we have left to us. You will not get a chance like this again.’
Helene left her mama’s room with a heavy heart. She wished that she might have married and obliged her mother, but she simply could not marry Mr Bradwell.
For a moment Helene allowed herself to think of Max Coleridge. How long would he be away—and would she ever be able to meet him without feeling that deep ache in her heart?
Max walked round to the back of the house and let himself in by a little-used door. He could hear voices in the kitchen, but he passed it without being discovered and used the servants’ stairs to gain access to the landing, which led to the main bedchambers. He knew that he had to be quick, because if he were discovered it would be awkward and he might be forced to leave without achieving his purpose. The first two doors were slightly ajar and a quick glance inside told him that they belonged to the mistress of the house. The next door opened at his touch, but it looked unoccupied. The fourth door was locked, which made him frown—if Robert were locked in, it would seem to confirm his fears. He tried the last door and immediately the smell of sickness told him that he had found the right room.
He went through the sitting room into the bedchamber behind. The windows were tightly shut, which ac counted for the slightly unpleasant odour, and the blinds were drawn. If he had his way, he would pull back the blinds and open the window, but he did not wish to impose his authority as the head of the family—unless it was strictly necessary. As yet he did not know the nature of Robert’s illness.
The man in the bed was lying on his back, the sheets pulled up to his chin. As Max approached, he could see that Robert looked pale, his eyes tightly closed. He bent over him, studying his face for a few moments.
Robert’s sleep seemed odd…as if he were heavily se dated. When someone was ill, the bedcovers were normally messy, as if they had been tossed back. These were too tidy. He laid a hand on Robert’s forehead. The young man opened his eyes and looked at him; for a moment he just stared and then he smiled.
‘Cousin Max…’ he said. ‘You have come to visit me. I am glad to see you…’
Max gazed down at him. ‘I am sorry to disturb you, Robert. I was anxious, for you have been ill each time I visit. I wanted to make sure you were being well cared for.’
‘Have I been ill?’ Robert seemed confused. His eyelids flickered and closed.
‘Robert…’ Max touched his shoulder. ‘Robert…can you talk to me?’
‘Robert had a disturbed night,’ a voice said from behind Max. He turned and was in time to see the physician enter the room. ‘I was forced to give him something to ease him earlier this morning. It makes Robert a little tired. You must forgive him.’
‘Doctor Clarke.’ Max inclined his head. He was immediately aware of a prickling sensation at the nape of his neck. The man’s manner seemed genuine, but there was something about him that he instinctively disliked. ‘Would you be good enough to tell me the nature of my cousin’s illness? He is a young man and his appearance, though sickly, is not truly that of an invalid.’
‘Robert is prone to violent chills and inflammation of the lungs,’ the physician said, but he avoided looking at Max as he spoke. ‘You may leave him to my care. I have cared for Robert since he was this high.’ He held his hand waist high. ‘He is as a son to me.’
Max stared at him, eyes narrowed. He had never liked the fellow; he thought him sly and he was certain something was not as it should be, though he could not quite decide what was wrong. Both Mrs Heronsdale and this man were hiding something!
‘Nevertheless, I believe it will be best if I ask my own doctor to call and see him. Robert has been ill too often. I shall call in the morning. If there is no improvement, I shall return with my doctor.’
‘That is your privilege, my lord.’ Doctor Clarke inclined his head, his eyes glittering with a suppressed anger he dared not show. ‘You will find nothing wrong, milord. I assure you that his mother is very satisfied with my care.’
Max inclined his head. ‘I shall call in the morning. I expect Robert to be able to receive me.’
He saw the physician’s eyes narrow, hiding his anger. Max smiled inwardly as he walked past him and down the stairs. In the hall he saw his aunt, who had just come into the house.
‘I have seen Robert, but he was under the influence of some drug and unable to speak to me,’ he said. ‘I have told that fellow who calls himself a physician that I shall call tomorrow, ma’am. If there is no improvement in my cousin’s condition, I shall have him taken to the house so that my own physician may take care of him. I am not satisfied that he is receiving the proper care here.’
‘Coleridge!’ Mrs Heronsdale stared at him, seeming dismayed and nervous. ‘I thought you had left…’
‘I am sorry it was necessary to deceive you, ma’am, but I am convinced something is wrong here. You may trust that fellow, but I do not. Robert should not be for ever ill. He is my cousin and I intend to take an interest in his health in future. Do not try to deny me, madam—if you wish to continue living on my estate…’
Mrs Heronsdale turned pale. She put a hand to her throat. ‘I do not know why you should speak to me thus, my lord. You cannot think that I would harm my own child?’
‘Something is not as it should be, ma’am. As yet I do not know what it may be, but I am determined to find out. Expect me in the morning—and remember that I wish to speak to Robert.’
Max walked past her and out of the house before she could recover her powers of speech. He was thoughtful as he left the dower house. What were she and that sly fellow hiding from him?
Max decided that he would not return home just yet. He would visit the neighbour who had written to him about the attacks on village girls that had begun to happen in the past few months. He needed to get to the bottom of this affair, because if his cousin were guilty—but that did not bear thinking about!
He knew that the evidence was stacking up against Robert, but to his mind something smelled wrong. His instincts were telling him that he should look to others and that
Robert might need his protection.
‘Tyler apologised for troubling me,’ Max said as he and Toby sat drinking a glass of wine that afternoon. ‘He says a man from a village some ten miles away has been taken into custody after molesting a girl and they believe he may have been responsible for what happened here. He had been drinking and apparently has a history of violence.’
‘I am glad to hear that the attacker has been apprehended,’ Toby said. ‘That must have relieved your mind, Max. You were concerned that those attacks might have had something to do with your cousin, were you not?’
‘Perhaps and perhaps not…’ Max said. He frowned. ‘I am certain they are hiding something from me concerning my cousin. I told you that he had been drugged, though he did open his eyes for a moment. He knew me and smiled, but then he fell asleep once more—and Doctor Clarke arrived. For some reason he and my aunt seem not to want me to speak with Robert.’
‘What reason could they have for keeping you apart?’ Toby asked and looked puzzled. ‘It is a mystery, Coleridge. I do not see what they could gain from it.’
‘No, it is difficult to imagine a reason, but there must be something. However, I have issued an ultimatum. Either I am given access to my cousin when he is properly awake or I shall have him brought here where my own physician may care for him.’
‘At least you know it could not have been your cousin who shot at you,’ Toby said. ‘If he is being kept a virtual prisoner in his room, it is unlikely that he took a pot shot at you.’
‘Most unlikely,’ Max said. ‘I am relieved on that score, of which I am heartily glad. I should not have enjoyed the feeling that Robert wished to murder me so that he could step into my shoes. However, it does make me wonder who did fire at me—or could it be that someone else was the intended victim that day?’
Toby stared at him. ‘Good grief! You do not mean Miss Henderson? Surely not? Why would anyone wish to kill her?’
‘I have no idea,’ Max replied. ‘But if I was not the intended victim, it must have been Miss Henderson, though I cannot imagine why. Or who could possibly want her dead.’
Toby shook his head. ‘I do not think it, Max. Miss Henderson is not an heiress. I believe she has something, but not enough to make anyone wish to shoot her so that they could inherit her fortune. I dare say you will find that the mystery lies closer to home. Are you sure Robert was drugged when you saw him?’
‘You think my cousin may have been faking it this morning?’ Max looked at him oddly. ‘I had not considered it, but it is one possibility. Yes, you are right about the shooting. I believe I was the one meant to die at Richmond, but as yet I cannot decide who was behind the attempt or why someone wants me dead.’
Helene had been to the lending library. Tilly was with her and they were walking home when the carriage drew to a halt at the side of the road just ahead of them. A groom jumped down and spoke to someone through the window, then approached Helene.
‘Miss Henderson. Lady Annersley asks if you will step inside her coach for a moment.’
‘Lady Annersley…’ Helene glanced at her maid. ‘Stay close to me. Tilly.’ She looked at the groom. ‘I will speak to her through the window.’ She approached and saw that the lady had the window down. She was heavily veiled so it was impossible to see her face. ‘You wished to speak with me, ma’am?’
‘You are an ungrateful wretch,’ Lady Annersley said harshly. ‘How could you refuse Annesdale’s generous offer? If you had the sense you were born with, you would do as he asks.’
‘Indeed?’ Helene looked at her coolly. ‘Had my grandfather seen fit to apologise for his behaviour to my mother I might have been more inclined to think about his offer, though I cannot approve of the way it was made.’
‘And who do you think you are, miss?’ The older woman was plainly furious. ‘If it was left to me, I would treat you with the disdain you deserve. You and that mother of yours should be drummed out of society for pretending to be something you are not, but His Grace wishes to see you again. I was on my way to request you to call on us.’
‘Then I have saved you a wasted journey,’ Helene said. Her pride was hurt and she felt angry. How dare this woman speak to her so! ‘If the duke cares to call on my mother to apologise, I may consider a part of his proposal—but it will be on my terms. I should certainly not agree to a settlement that did not include an invitation to my mother. I dare say we have nothing more to say to one another, so I shall not detain you.’
‘Vixen! I dare say you imagine Coleridge will offer for you and that you can afford to ignore the duke—but I assure you that once he knows the truth he will withdraw.’
Helene’s eyes flashed with anger. ‘Indeed, then perhaps you should tell him yourself, ma’am. Good day, my lady. I have an appointment I must keep.’
Helene walked on, head in the air, face proud. She was angry that Lady Annersley had chosen to interfere in something that did not concern her and that she had lost her temper. It was very wrong of her, and something she seldom permitted herself to do, but she did not regret it. Lady Annersley’s threat did not worry her—if it had not been for her own pride and sense of honesty, she would already have become engaged to Lord Coleridge.
She had wanted to leave town before he returned, but both her mama and Amelia seemed determined that she should finish her Season.
She had no idea when Max would return, but it could not matter, for he would hardly bother to call. He had behaved as a perfect gentleman that night, but he must have resented her refusal to listen. No doubt he would despise her now.
Max walked down to the dower house alone that morning. Mrs Heronsdale greeted him, her face pale and anxious. She greeted him politely, but did not smile, a look of resentment in her eyes.
‘I hope that Robert is awake and ready to receive me, ma’am?’
‘It seems that you know your own way, sir. I shall not come up with you.’
‘As you wish, ma’am.’ Max inclined his head. Clearly he would have some fences to mend with his aunt, but firm action had been necessary if he were to get to the bottom of this mystery.
He went up the stairs, walking along the hall to his cousin’s bedchamber. He noticed that the smell was different. Someone had used lavender polish and, as he went into the bedroom itself, he saw that the blinds were partially drawn and the window was open a crack to let some air in. Robert was sitting propped up against a pile of pillows. His face was pale, but he looked slightly better than he had the previous day.
‘Robert,’ Max said. ‘I trust you are a little better today?’
‘I think I must be,’ Robert said and looked puzzled. ‘Doctor Clarke tells me I have had another bout of sickness, though if truth be known I do not remember much of it. I am sorry that I was sleeping when you called yesterday.’
‘I am relieved to see you so much better,’ Max said. ‘I should like to have my own doctor call on you—just to make sure you are receiving the right treatment. I intend to bring some friends down to Coleridge to stay in a week or two and I had hoped that you might be well enough to join us.’
‘I should like that…’ Robert frowned, his eyes drawn across to the physician who stood near the window. ‘Clarke—shall I be well enough, do you think? Should I have this other quack to take a look at me?’
The physician inclined his head, his eyes lowered. ‘It must be your decision, Robert. If you think I have neglected something in your treatment, you must say.’
‘He’s sulking,’ Robert said and laughed. ‘Clarke has looked after me since I first became ill. I dare say I might have died had he not nursed me devotedly. I thank you for your concern, Max. I am sorry that you should have been denied access when I was in the fever—but I dare say Mama thought you might despise me for my weakness.’
‘How could I?’ Max said. ‘Illness strikes the best of us. I am sorry that you should have so many bouts of sickness, Robert. My offer remains if you should change your mind—and I hope you will be well enough to join my
guests when we dine.’
‘I think I shall be well for a while now,’ Robert said. There was an odd, slightly defiant look in his eyes as he stared at his physician. ‘If I am in any doubt, I shall avail myself of your physician’s advice, Max.’
‘I am glad to hear it,’ Max said. ‘Are you comfortable here? Is your allowance enough for your needs?’
‘I have very few needs,’ Robert said and once again there was an odd, militant expression in his eyes as he looked at the physician. ‘Do I, Clarke?’
‘I think perhaps you should rest now,’ the physician said, looking grave. ‘It will not do to exhaust yourself, Robert—or you may have a relapse.’
‘I told you, he is sulking,’ Robert said and laughed. ‘You had better go, Max. I am sure I shall be well enough to join you when you have guests.’
‘I am glad,’ Max said. ‘If you need anything more, you have only to send me word.’ He nodded his head to the physician. ‘Good day, sir. I shall see you again in two weeks, Robert.’
He walked from the room. He was frowning as he left the house and made his way home. Everything had appeared quite normal, but Max’s intuition was telling him that the situation here was far from what it ought to be. However, with the man who had been attacking girls in custody, and his cousin seeming to be well enough to talk sensibly, there did not seem to be much to keep him here beyond the morrow.
He would be glad to get back to London, for there was something he needed to do…and if things went as he hoped he would not be alone when he returned in two weeks’ time. Helene had prevented him from speaking when they last met, but he had decided that he would review the situation when they met again. Of course, it was possible that she might truly prefer not to marry and that would be a shame.