Then Harry asked the critical question that had been haunting Richard like a barghest.
“But if Nigel Garthwood is trying to kill you, and if it’s not because of Paris, what possible motivation could he have? Why should your death bring him riches?”
“I don’t know,” Richard said. “There is no other connection between us, except that he’s Helena’s cousin.”
“Surely you don’t think that’s actually the key to all this?”
“What else am I supposed to think? Oh, damn it all, Harry! Go home to your bed before I forget that I am supposed to be a model gentleman, and I, too, get drunk in earnest.”
* * *
Charles de Dagonet would not accept the offer of a bed for the night and rode away in the dark.
“I have to get to a ball at Lady Easthaven’s before too many more days elapse, ma’am, so if I am to fit in Richard’s affairs among my own, it behooves me to waste no more time.”
“Yet you were kind to come,” Helena said and meant it.
Richard is safe in England. He is safe! Even if he cannot come home, even if he cannot be with me—as I yearn for, as I crave—at least he is safe! But if my beloved is haunted, then, alas, so am I—
Dagonet kissed her fingers. “
Au revoir
, Lady Lenwood.
Les plus sages ne le sont pas toujours.”
Even the wisest aren’t always so. It was small comfort.
* * *
John arrived the next day. Helena had achieved something close to a peace treaty with Joanna and Milly, and she had high hopes of moving toward truly amicable relations. It was painfully obvious that the girls had built up layers of defenses against giving their affections too casually, yet she had effected a small breach, perhaps.
She smiled wryly to herself. The same could hardly be said for their oldest brother, for she was not sure that her siege had really touched Richard, at all.
John marched into the hallway and gave her a little bow.
“Where are Richard and Harry?” he said right away.
“As you already know very well, they can’t be here, sir,” Helena replied with a smile. “But your sisters are in the drawing room, except for Eleanor, who is unhappily abed with a cold.”
“A chap was never so put upon!” John threw his top hat onto a chair. “What am I expected to do for two weeks in a house full of women?”
“I would hope,” Helena replied softly, “that you would be a gracious and chivalrous gentleman, as Richard would anticipate.”
“Well, don’t expect me to put up with Milly! Eleanor’s all right. She’s a real brick when a fellow’s in trouble, but Joanna never could stand the sight of me.”
“I doubt seriously the veracity of that, sir, but I for one am very happy at the sight of you. I intend to win back some of my shillings.”
The sulky pout was replaced with an open grin. “Do you? Say, I did have fun that time staying with you here. It was worth the drubbing I got when I got back, and you should have seen the fellows’ faces when I just sauntered into the hall as if nothing were wrong. Harris Major’s face was red as a flag. He’d wagered some of the other lads that I’d run off for good.”
“So you did get your beating?”
“Rather! But it didn’t bother me any. Is tea ready?”
Helena led him into the drawing room, where Joanna looked up and made a little face. Milly instantly jumped up and ran behind her sister.
“What’s this?” John said with a grin. “Two frogs out of the pond? What on earth are those frizzes around your face, Joanna? It looks like a border of fixed bayonets.”
Joanna had been the victim of a small accident with her curling iron that morning and her ebony ringlets had a slightly fried look that Helena had tactfully ignored.
“At least I don’t have a face like the back end of a cart horse!” she replied instantly.
“I don’t know who’s calling who a horse’s tail!” John yelled.
He launched himself at his sisters.
At the same moment, the footman came in with the tea tray.
John hit the liveried elbow with the force of a cannonball, and the tray shot out of the man’s grasp. Hot water, teapot, spoons, scones, cakes, and teacups slid in a cavalcade to the carpet to form a splendid mess of broken crockery and wet crumbs amid a soaking pool of tea and raspberry jam.
The carpets at Acton Mead seem to be getting some rough handling recently, Helena thought. It was almost the same spot where she had dropped her own teacup.
There was an appalled silence. Then Milly began to cry.
“I beg your pardon, my lady,” the footman began.
“It was not your fault, Williams,” Helena said instantly. “Just send in a maid to clean up and ask Mrs. Hood for some more tea.”
The footman bowed his head and left.
“Now, see!” Joanna said. “Look what you’ve done, John! I declare, it’s like having barbarians in the drawing room. You are a hateful little boy.”
“All right,” Helena said. “John, you had better go to your room. I shall talk with you later.”
To her surprise, he obeyed instantly. She suspected that he was very close to tears. It would be a terrible humiliation for him to break down in front of his sisters.
“I told you he was horrid,” Milly wailed. “He spoiled all the tea.”
Helena sat down and pulled Milly to her. To her delight, the child allowed herself to be hugged.
“And we shall have a whole new tea in a minute. In the meantime, don’t you think we had better decide what to do about John?”
“You could lock him in his room the whole time,” Joanna suggested.
“No, I mean more than that. John feels very overwhelmed, you know, being here with all of us females. I think we’re going to have to go to great lengths to make him feel comfortable.”
“Why on earth should we?” Joanna said. “He’s a brat.”
“Because it’s good practice for us, of course. We can polish our society manners. Imagine, how would a great lady have handled such an odd remark as John made about your hair?”
“You mean a lady like a princess?” Milly asked.
“If you like. You all bear the names of great queens, you know.”
“She’d have ignored it and frozen him out, I suppose,” Joanna said after a moment.
“Very likely,” Helena answered, smiling. “I doubt very seriously if she’d have told him he resembled an unmentionable part of a horse’s anatomy—even if she believed it to be true.”
Suddenly Joanna began to giggle. “I would like to see his face if I were to ignore him altogether.”
“Or, if she loved as a brother the fellow who so forgot himself, she could have made a joke out of it of her own,” Helena said. “Laughter is a far better way to win over one’s opponents than insults, you know. You could have said something that would have made him laugh with you, and then he’d have been totally at your mercy. In fact, it might have been so successful that you’d find he was on your side, after all. We all of us need all the allies we can get, I think. In the meantime, if you would like, I can help you with your hair. Would you like to practice putting it up—just for dinner?”
Joanna almost bridled. But Helena knew she had been longing to put up her hair.
“Oh, very well. I’ll try and be better to John.”
“Let it be our secret,” Helena said. “We shall all try to be as gracious and clever as queens, and see if we can win John to our side. It’ll be fun.”
* * *
John might have shed a few tears, but they had been defiantly dried by the time Helena came up to his room.
“That’s it for my tea, then,” he said with a pout.
“Well, what do you think is fair?” Helena asked.
“To go hungry until dinner, I suppose. But a fellow never had such dreadful sisters. Joanna looked like a singed pig.”
“I suppose she hadn’t noticed it herself,” Helena said absently.
“Oh, I’ll bet she had. She’s as vain as a peacock. I’ll bet she was in a dreadful funk over it.”
“Then how do you suppose it made her feel to find out that you had noticed, too?”
“Pretty rotten, I guess.” John looked at his feet. “But she’s always so superior.”
“Do you think Richard would let that influence his behavior to a lady?”
John didn’t answer, but he had flushed a bright scarlet.
“I think you are often very provoked, sir,” Helena said kindly. “And that it must be a terrible challenge to have so many sisters to be nice to—rather a labor of Hercules, in fact. But while Richard’s away, you are the only gentleman in the house and we females have no one else to look to for protection and courtesy. Especially Milly, since she’s younger than you are. I think that a young man who has the courage to face up to a double whipping would also have the courage to apologize to his sisters and try to treat them as a gentleman should.”
“Will you tell Richard?”
“About the accident with the tea tray? I rather hope that when Richard comes home, he’ll find his young brother acting so well that he would never believe it.”
“I am sorry, Helena, truly. Will you still play whist with me?”
“You can’t keep me from the card table, sir.”
“Then I will apologize to Joanna.”
“If you feel yourself tempted to do otherwise, I’ll give you a wink and you must think of the noble Hercules in the Aegean stables. I know you can do it, sir.”
And at dinner John made a very passable apology, though it took two winks to get him through it. Joanna, her head held as proudly as her medieval namesake’s, made a gracious and funny acceptance. Matilda then dared to tell John about Bayard, and it didn’t need any more winks for John to express genuine enthusiasm. In fact the two youngest members of the Acton family seemed to have found grounds for a truce.
Helena had won peace for at least the first evening.
* * *
Nigel Garthwood smiled when he received the messages from Oxford. Henry Acton was interested in procuring some more very fine wine and requested a meeting soon to that end.
And Viscount Lenwood was back.
It seemed that he had managed to disappear by dying his hair and wasting his time in Paris. Now he had shed the disguise and was openly flaunting his presence.
The viscount’s confidence was misplaced. God knows how he had escaped from the ruffians in London, but he would not survive the next attempt. This time Garthwood would make sure of it himself and he wouldn’t trust to the results of an accident.
He had some specialized knowledge that he could put to use.
He would bide his time and wait for the perfect opportunity.
Dagonet arrived in Oxford and went from inn to inn until he discovered where Richard was staying. That night he and the viscount had dinner together. Richard had managed to visit a barber. His hair, though now shorter than his usual habit, was once again the color of celandines.
“I can only say, Lenwood,” Dagonet said as he helped himself to a serving of jugged hare, “that in my humble opinion, your wits have gone begging.
Il est plus aisé d’être sage pour les autres que pour soi-même, naturellement
. But I have been to see your wife.”
The viscount raised a brow. “And what wisdom for others has resulted, sir?”
“She is not trying to kill you.”
“No, I don’t imagine that she is capable of being in two places at once, nor that she has the ability to shoot either bullets or darts.”
“Nor, believe me, does she wish you dead.”
“You’re an impeccable judge of character, aren’t you, Dagonet?”
“Good enough, as are you. Neither of us would have survived this long, if we hadn’t learned to see through to a man’s real intentions.”
“Yes, but that invaluable experience didn’t encompass the gentler sex, did it?”
Dagonet glanced up at his friend. “You don’t seriously believe that Helena Trethaerin is guilty of nefarious plots, do you? For heaven’s sake, sir, you told me yourself you had fallen in love with her.”
Richard leaned back and smiled. His face seemed carved like a sculpture in the candlelight.
“And I am of such splendid character that I couldn’t have done so, if she were not worthy? But love is blind, they say.”
“Like justice? It’s interesting, isn’t it, how many noble personifications are without sight? But it seems to be only the female ones. Male gods always fix us with their stony gaze and thus perhaps judge only by appearances.”
“For God’s sake, Charles! You don’t think that I want to believe that my wife is involved in all this, do you? I don’t accept for a moment that Helena knows anything about Madame Relet. Who else but Garthwood could be responsible for the villainy with the girls? She is a complete innocent about such things, thank God. Yet Harry has made it clear that her cousin Garthwood is likely to be the actual perpetrator of the attempts against me, though the man has no motivation whatsoever to kill me—or none that makes any sense. You must agree!”
“Of course. It’s what makes it all so damnable, I do see that.”
“When I met them in Cornwall, it was obvious that Helena was afraid of him. If she is still somehow in his power, who knows to what that fear may lead her to agree?”
“What do you imagine she could do—and why?”
“Ours was a marriage of convenience only. We don’t pretend any abiding affection. If I die, she will be a rich woman and her cousin Garthwood would be there to step into the breach. Helena could have kept in touch with him, informed him of my movements. How can I know what to think? Except that I have spent all these years in one adventure after another, and no one ever tried to personally assassinate me until I was wed.”
Dagonet poured him some wine and watched as the viscount absently sipped at the glass. Richard’s food had congealed untouched on the plate in front of him.
“Only you can judge what lies between you and your wife, Richard. But I want you to put an objective opinion on her side of the scales, for what it’s worth. I have spoken with her and I don’t think it’s possible for her to be involved in any attempts against you.”
“Because she’s a lady?” Richard said with a wry grin.
“If you like.”
That Dagonet thought he knew the true state of Helena’s feelings didn’t tempt him for a moment to tell Richard his opinion of them. He would very probably be disbelieved and anyway, in honor it was not for him but for Helena to reveal, when and if she would.