The Madness of Miss Grey

by Julia Bennet

  “Do you like him?” she asked when Somerton had gone.

  “Yes,” Will said, “though I’m not sure why.”

  He began to think it was his destiny to admire people with natures far more complicated than his own.

  …

  As Will had predicted, Helen wasn’t pleased by the prospect of yet another doctor to poke at her, though she was more upset about his impending dismissal. At least he was able to calm her on that score and assure her they’d have a few days in which to finalize their plans. The name Vaughn made her eyes widen when she first heard it. “But Vaughn is such a common name,” she said and went back to the book she was reading.

  She read all the time now, and her spirits seemed to lift a little more each day. She’d always possessed a determined gaiety in defiance of Blackwell and her keepers, but now her smiles seemed more genuine and her laughter unforced.

  The new man arrived about an hour after luncheon. Will and Helen happened to be on their way back from the stables after taking Hector on another long walk to the gazebo. Helen looked so beautiful with her red curls windblown and escaping their pins, and her cheeks tinged pink with cold and exertion. Will couldn’t wait to get her back inside so he could make love to her.

  But for the second time in as many days, a carriage had pulled up outside the front entrance. The driver was hefting a heavy-looking bag down from the imperial. The new doctor stood on the front steps, his back to them as he gazed up at the house. When he turned, Helen’s hand tensed in the crook of Will’s arm.

  So, it really was her Dr. Vaughn.

  They continued toward him without altering pace. Up close, the man was Will’s worst nightmare made flesh. Tall and slender, he had the effortlessly graceful bearing of a born gentleman. He had dark hair and the regular, almost feminine features ladies seemed to adore. In short, he looked like Byron or Lancelot—romantic and, so far as Will could tell from a single glance, a bit stupid.

  The interloper’s eyes went straight to Helen. Perhaps Will imagined the covetous gleam in their depths, but he didn’t think so.

  “Helen,” Vaughn said, his tone intense and fervid like his looks. “Miss Grey, it’s such a pleasure to see you looking so well.”

  “How do you do, Dr. Vaughn?” She sounded calm, polite, and not at all sorry to see him. “They told me to expect another doctor. How happy I am that it’s someone with whom I’m familiar.” Knowing how familiar they’d been, those innocent-seeming words felt like a knife in Will’s gut.

  “I’m bidden to Dr. Sterling,” Vaughn said. “I imagine he won’t be as welcoming.”

  “I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.”

  Vaughn looked at Will as though he’d only just noticed him. “Oh, I do beg your pardon. I quite forgot my manners in the pleasure of seeing Helen again.”

  Ass, Will thought.

  “This is Dr. Carter.”

  “A pleasure. Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I mustn’t keep the keeper waiting.”

  Will stayed silent until Vaughn had gone in. “Pleasant to see a familiar face, is it?”

  She pulled her arm free of his. “What else was I to say?”

  Will could think of a hundred suggestions, “Stay away from me” chief among them, but Helen had already stormed off along the path. She didn’t even look back to see if he followed.

  Bloody, bloody, bloody hell!

  As Helen trudged along the path that led around the back of the house to the old rose garden, her feet kicked up mud and old rainwater. The hem of her coat would be crusted with filth when she got back, but she couldn’t worry about that now.

  Twenty seconds in Matthew Vaughn’s company and she felt as though the past few months had never happened. How easily she’d fallen into her old habits of appeasement and manipulation. The moment she saw him, fear had frozen her emotions, and she hadn’t cared how her words sounded to Will. Now he was angry with her. Worse, she was angry right back, and she didn’t even understand why.

  The old rose garden looked almost pretty again with the snowdrops carpeting it. She sat on the edge of the crumbling old fountain, not caring when the damp began seeping through her skirts. Blackwell towered over her, dark and malevolent, the stage on which all her worst memories had played out.

  And a few of the best as well.

  The last few days with Will had been some of the happiest of her life. She mustn’t let Vaughn destroy her peace of mind or the fragile bond growing between her and Will. A moment ago, she’d been cross and anxious, but already that feeling was fading, replaced by the familiar warmth she always experienced whenever she thought of her new husband.

  Vaughn’s arrival had unnerved them both, and she regretted snapping when she should have soothed. Maybe if she said sorry, if she explained, Will might forgive her. It had been a long time since she’d offered a genuine apology to anyone. She wasn’t sure she remembered how.

  Perhaps ten minutes passed while she planned what to say, but then the crunch of gravel interrupted her thoughts. The footfalls were swift and light, and she wasn’t the least bit surprised, though a little disappointed, when Vaughn rounded the corner.

  “I saw you from my window,” he said. “I had to come and speak with you. There’s so much I didn’t get to say last time we parted.”

  “Yes. You left in something of a hurry, as I recall.”

  “You know it wasn’t by choice. I would have taken you with me if I could.”

  “Would you? I thought you’d had all you wanted from me.”

  He gazed at her with soulful blue eyes. “You don’t believe that, do you?”

  When she didn’t answer, he took a step toward her. He’d always taken pride in his wardrobe, spending excessive amounts on fancy tailoring far beyond a doctor’s means. Clearly, that hadn’t changed. Each garment fit like a second skin. With his dark curly hair worn slightly too long and his clean-shaven face, he was quite the dandy.

  Years ago, she’d grown used to cheap, coarse fabrics and careworn faces. When he’d arrived with his beauty and elegance, she’d found him dazzling, but she’d never loved him. It hadn’t taken long to discover how little substance lay beneath the gentlemanly exterior.

  Helen stood and backed away until the water fountain stood between them. She didn’t want him to touch her, and she didn’t know if he would accept a refusal. Despite their months of acquaintance, she knew very little about what sort of man he really was.

  He turned pale. “Helen, what’s wrong? You know how I feel about you.”

  Will had said those exact words to her. “Why? Why must I know? I barely understand my own heart let alone anyone else’s.”

  “I haven’t stopped thinking about you. My God, the sight of you there on the steps, your hand on that ugly oaf’s arm… I wanted to knock him down.” As he spoke, he edged closer. “You seemed pleased to see me, and I…I ache to touch you.”

  “No.” She took another hasty step back.

  “Please, Helen. I only meant your hand.”

  Her skin prickled with the desire to escape, but she forced herself to remain still. She needed to stay and see this through, or she’d only have to go through the entire ordeal again. He took her limp hand in his and raised it to his lips. Even though she wore gloves, even though the kiss was brief, she snatched her hand back.

  “Dr. Vaughn, we cannot go back to the ways things were.” If she could tell him she was married, he’d understand how hopeless his renewed attentions were, but she needed to remember Somerton’s plan.

  “I understand, but you will learn to trust me again, my Helen.”

  Never. She’d experienced fleeting moments of warmth toward him during their brief months as lovers, but never for a moment had she trusted him. When he’d fled the moment their liaison was exposed, he’d done so without even speaking to her. Now he spoke words of affection, but when a man felt deeply for a woman, he showed it by his actions, like Will.

  “I know why you lost faith in me. I promised I’d take yo
u away from here, and you think I abandoned you. Don’t you see? I’ve been biding my time. I knew our chance would come.”

  “It’s too late.”

  “Don’t say so. The Duke of Harcastle sent me here. Sterling never told him about us. I resigned so that we could keep our secret. Don’t you see? I was protecting you. The duke trusts me, and I believe he will let me care for you. We’d have our own house. I’d be your only doctor and you my only patient.”

  Once she would have leapt at the chance. Now the thought of ending up locked in a house with Vaughn repelled her. Her ambitions had grown since their days together. Then, she’d only wanted to escape, but now she wanted Will, too. Somerton’s words came back to her—If one must run, it’s better to run toward something—and she’d been running toward Will for longer than she’d realized.

  “It’s too late.”

  “Helen.” He shook his head. “I know you’ve enlisted the new doctor as some sort of champion, but he’s hardly a knight in shining armor.”

  That was the second time he’d disparaged Will. If he thought to shine in comparison, he’d misjudged all three of them. No man could ever match Will in her estimation.

  “Dr. Carter has been very kind. He’s a true gentleman, and you mustn’t speak of him with so little respect.”

  He stared at her, his color deepening with suppressed emotion. “Then is it true what they’re saying? He’s not…he’s not your lover, is he?”

  She didn’t react, but he took her silence for assent.

  “How could you do this?” he cried. “After everything we shared, how can you bear to let that man touch you? That huge, uncouth…” He shuddered. “Perhaps Sterling was right about you all along. Was I even the first?”

  Vaughn’s voice shook with feeling, but not grief at losing her. Anger and outraged pride colored his words, not heartbreak.

  His continued denigration of Will made her want to smack him, but his evident revulsion took her completely by surprise. Men indulged themselves outside of marriage. Why were they so appalled when women did the same? She’d never understood the double standard. Mama had given a bemused shrug whenever Helen had asked about it.

  “Dear God,” he cried. “I wasn’t, was I?”

  “I never said you were.”

  When she thought about Will and the patience and understanding with which he’d heard the story of her past, her respect for him soared. Vaughn took the news that he hadn’t been her first as a personal affront.

  “So, Sterling was right about the groom?” he said. “What a joke! Beaten to the punch by a stable hand.”

  The fact that her previous lovers were working class appeared to horrify him most of all. He was humiliated to find himself in such lowly company. Yet of all the men she’d taken to bed—and there had only been four—the only one she was ashamed of was Vaughn. How dare he speak so when he’d betrayed his doctor’s oath? What did he know of honor?

  “Yes, pipped to the post by a stable hand. And an actor before I even came here.”

  His lip curled with disdain. “Then it doesn’t matter who the man is, you writhe like a bitch in heat.”

  She slapped him hard across the face. The blow made her hand sting and produced a loud and hugely satisfying crack. Vaughn staggered back, clutching his cheek.

  “This discussion has grown tiresome,” Helen said, straightening her spine and lifting her chin. “I suggest we don’t repeat it.”

  “Miss Grey?” The voice was Somerton’s. “Is everything all right?”

  She glanced over her shoulder and saw him standing by the arch that led to the parkland. Though she didn’t know how long he’d been there or how much he’d heard, her heart leapt at the sight of him.

  “Everything’s well, my lord, except that I’m tired from my walk. Would you escort me back to the house?”

  Somerton strode forward and offered his arm. “You stay there, Vaughn,” he said. “It should be clear by now that you’re not wanted.”

  Together, she and Somerton followed the path toward the main entrance.

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  “I assure you, it was my pleasure. The man’s repugnant.”

  He had obviously overheard at least some of what passed between them, then. Her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. How could she have allowed that preening fool to touch her? And now Somerton and Will both knew how vile Vaughn truly was.

  “Yes. I never held a very high opinion of him, but that outburst was something I’ve never seen before. Until today, I’d have called him weak and selfish, but you’re right, repugnant is the perfect word.”

  As someone who’d grown up around theatre folk, she knew how easily one could behave with perfect charm toward a person while inwardly holding them in contempt. The fact that she hadn’t seen through Vaughn worried her.

  “Yet you and he were…” Somerton hesitated, presumably searching for a tactful word to substitute for “lovers.”

  “Close? Not really. He was a means to an end.”

  How callous that sounded, yet she’d rather Somerton thought her heartless than suspect how completely she’d been taken in. A few years ago, if Vaughn had kept his promise and they’d left Blackwell together, she’d have stayed with him as long as he’d cared to keep her. Though she hadn’t loved him, she’d have been a faithful companion to him. What sort of life would they be living now? She suspected she’d merely have exchanged one unhappy lot for another.

  Somerton said nothing, but he frowned at the ground.

  “Have I shocked you?” she asked.

  “It’s not that. It’s just ordinarily I’m very good at reading people.”

  His thoughts aligned so closely to her own that she was startled. “Are people generally so predictable?”

  He laughed softly. “Extremely. You see, people lie. In fact, in my experience, most are as crooked as they come, but they do their best to hide it.”

  “Ah, whereas I’m comparatively open about it.”

  “Do you see why I’m confused?”

  He was teasing her, she realized. Was this how brothers talked to their sisters? She thoughts perhaps it was, though the subject matter of their discourse struck her as less conventional.

  “It’s really simple. I don’t like lying, therefore I only do it when I absolutely have to. This didn’t seem like one of those occasions.”

  He shook his head in mock wonder. “Fascinating.”

  They reached the main entrance and ascended the stone steps together. He held the door open for her, but she hovered on the threshold, reluctant to relinquish this peculiar camaraderie.

  “What about you?” she asked. “I take it, if you were crooked, you’d try to hide it.”

  He grinned, and in that moment he looked almost mischievous. “Oh, I’d succeed.”

  Of course Will went to find Helen, and of course he looked out of the library window in time to witness the tender scene in the rose garden.

  Feeling like the lowest sneak, he’d watched until she let Vaughn kiss her hand. After that, his heart racing, he’d forced himself to get back to work. Or at least he’d sat down at his desk with paperwork spread out in front of him. His thoughts lingered in the rose garden.

  Things didn’t look good.

  But she’d initially backed away, practically hid behind the fountain. He still felt the way her hand had tightened in the crook of his arm when they saw Vaughn arrive. Somerton had said Vaughn’s presence was Harcastle’s doing, so perhaps Helen meant to put Vaughn off guard with her welcome.

  For once, the sky outside was clear, and twilight filled this part of the office with a golden glow. He turned his head and gazed out the window at the steadily setting sun. He wouldn’t think—wouldn’t allow himself to think—ill of Helen.

  The tapping on the door was so soft he almost missed it.

  “Come in,” he called.

  The door opened, and his head practically swam with relief when he saw her there, still wearing her outdoor things.
The light gilded her, creating a corona of the loose wisps and curls of her hair.

  “You look so beautiful,” he said without thinking. “Sometimes it hurts to look at you.”

  She stilled in the act of pulling off her gloves. Unusually for her, she didn’t look him in the eye. A guilty conscience, perhaps?

  “Is your work going well?” she asked, stuffing the gloves into her pocket.

  He glanced down at the papers in front of him. In truth, he’d forgotten they were there. “Not very. Did you have a pleasant walk?”

  “Not very,” she echoed. “I’ve been trying to think of an apology.”

  “Whatever for?” The question sounded disingenuous in view of his thoughts, but he was honestly surprised to hear her say sorry. He understood how much she disliked placing herself in a vulnerable position.

  She glanced up from unbuttoning her coat and frowned. “For my filthy temper…and for what happened outside with Dr. Vaughn.”

  Had she seen him at the library window?

  “Seeing him again like that… Well, it was a shock.”

  Oh, she meant on the steps. Will stifled his disappointment. If he wanted things out in the open, he had only to speak. Simple cowardice kept him silent.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  After laying her coat on the back of one of the armchairs, she went to the mirror and peered at her reflection. When she saw the pretty wisps of windswept hair he’d so admired, she gasped and started to make repairs.

  “Sterling didn’t tell the duke what happened between Vaughn and me,” she said, adjusting a hairpin. “If he had, His Grace would never have sent him here. He says the duke trusts him. Can you imagine?”

  “When did he tell you that?”

  Will had thought the same thing about Harcastle and how much he knew regarding Vaughn’s misconduct, but he was more interested in learning the substance of Helen’s recent assignation.

  Helen smoothed her hair, now neatly tucked back into place, then turned to Will with a wrinkled brow as if she didn’t understand his question. Somehow, he didn’t think her confusion genuine. She wouldn’t have mentioned what Vaughn had said if she hadn’t wanted Will to know about it. Was this her way of confessing?