Chapter Fourteen

The morning dawned still and clear. It would have been an excellent day for a ride, but Helena had no wish to show her battered face in public. She lay in bed relishing the comfort and peace of being free at last of the apprehension which had dogged her for so long.

But she had one insurmountable problem. How on earth she was going to meet Sir Ivor without embarrassment? Having tossed herself into his arms with such abandon, how was she to face him today? Hopefully he would put it down to her sheer relief at being rescued. On the other hand, he had promised he would not let her go. That was the sort of thing the heroes in ladies’ novels said. She did not think Ivor would be thrilled to be compared to one of Mrs. Radcliffe’s Byronic heroes. Anyway, he might just have said that in the heat of the moment. Perhaps he had been humoring her, trying to make light of their difficulties.

No, no, no. She hoped he had meant more than that—a lot more. According to Lady Stafford he had been ‘beside himself.’ Surely that meant he loved her? Surely?

Sighing, she propped her chin in her hand. If only. Yesterday she had taken a good look at herself. She saw a young woman who had become unnecessarily embittered over her lot in life. The fact that she had chosen the life of a governess over one of genteel poverty living as Robert’s pensioner in the first place showed her strength of character. Why then had that strength of character deserted her of late? Honesty compelled her to confess that she was unhappy because she had seen what might have been; what she could have had if her father had not made it impossible for her to pursue a relationship with Sir Ivor Stafford or any other gentleman of his caliber. She would like nothing more in this world than to be Ivor Stafford’s wife. She had loved him virtually since the day she had met him, although her realization of that had only come recently. Lord, he was just so…so loveable. Those shoulders, that quirk of his mouth when—she was becoming maudlin.

But until yesterday she had had her suspicions about her father’s motives in ‘selling’ her to Lord Elverton. Thank goodness he had changed his mind about doing so, and she need have no fear that the taint of his relationship with Elverton would have repercussions for either Robert or herself. Now that she had heard from Elverton himself that her father had not cooperated in his schemes, she was profoundly thankful. Perhaps Papa had unearthed proof of Elverton’s treasonous activities? That might well have been the catalyst that caused John Marshfield to confront Elverton and renege on the arrangement to marry Helena to him. But she hoped passionately that it was simply the love of a father for his daughter that no matter how far he had sunk, he could not use his daughter as a pawn.

She must speak to Robert straight away to find out his view of the situation.

And then if Sir Ivor asked her again…

Mrs. Annerwith tapped on her door, and Helena struggled up on to her pillows. “Miss Marshfield, how is your face today? Oh my!” she exclaimed, examining what Helena knew would be multi-colored bruises from her forehead to her chin. “Do you think a bath would be refreshing?”

“Oh yes. Just what I would most wish for.”

Twenty minutes later Helena slowly and luxuriously lowered herself into a tubful of soft suds. “Hold your sore hand out of the water, ma’am.” Mrs. Annerwith bustled about, thrilled to have somebody to mother. After Helena had had time to wallow peacefully and soak some of the stiffness out of her body, the housekeeper fetched Mary, and they thoroughly washed Helena’s hair.

“Such lovely, lovely hair, ma’am. ’Twill take some time to dry though. If you sit next to the fire for a time it will dry faster. Now let me bandage that hand.”

Smothered in loving care, Helena relaxed and let all the attention flow over her in a warm stream. When she was dressed, she peered into the big mirror and discovered that her injuries looked even worse than she had imagined. One side of her face was mottled with dark bruising, and her bottom lip bore a marked resemblance to a duck’s bill. She licked it tentatively. It certainly was sore. She presented a very odd appearance indeed. Although dressed with neatness and propriety as became a companion, her bruising gave her a rakish look. She looked as if she had been carousing but sought to exonerate herself by trying to dress sedately to impress. Her damp, wayward hair refused as usual to comply with her wishes. What a mess she looked! She hoped fervently that Sir Ivor was busy at the Horse Guards today. And tomorrow. And the next day. She had no wish to see him before her face had begun to heal. Wounds always looked their worst on the two or three days following an accident, not of course that her injuries could be termed an accident precisely.

She hurried to Robert’s room to find that Caroline was there already. Their heads were bent together, and Robert’s hand lay over the top of Caroline’s. Helena, you are employed as a chaperone for Caroline, and you are not succeeding very well at your duties. She coughed gently, and they looked up.

“Dearest Helena! Your face!” Caroline was stupefied at Helena’s appearance.

Robert was more pragmatic. “Told you it would look worse today,” he chortled. “You look as if you’ve fallen off a horse.”

“Thank you, dear Robert.”

Then Robert’s face changed. “I hope that when they caught up with him yesterday, they made him pay for that.”

“I don’t think Sir Ivor was particularly gentle.”

“No, he wouldn’t be.”

Helena looked askance.

“Don’t be silly, Ellie. The two of you have been smelling of April and May since I arrived home. You know perfectly well what I mean.”

Flushing, Helena glanced at Caroline. Caroline laughed and blew Helena a kiss. She got up to leave the room.

“I shall leave you two. Will you come downstairs to breakfast soon, Helena?”

“Yes. I cannot go riding in case I meet someone I know. I shall keep to the house.”

When Caroline had left, Helena asked Robert, “Have you given any further thought as to what Papa’s relationship with Lord Elverton was?”

“I gather that Elverton introduced Father to the gaming tables. Then I think he sought to blackmail Father. It was his usual modus operandi once his unsuspecting victims were well and truly caught. But it looks as though his price was too high for Father. I think the price was you.”

Helena looked down at her hands. “Yes, I’ve always suspected that. It has been a terrible burden to bear, knowing that I was indirectly the cause of Papa’s death.”

“No, Ellie. You were not the cause, indirect or otherwise, of Father’s death. Father chose both his way of life and the method of his death. And remember that he had many, many debts besides Elverton’s. But I think that after he defied Elverton and would not give you up, it was the beginning of the end for him, and he knew it. I imagine Elverton then began to work on him to turn him traitor, but that would never have happened. The Marshfields do not sell their daughters, nor are they traitors.”

“Well said, Marshfield,” Sir Ivor’s voice murmured from the doorway. The brother and sister turned to face him. “Most of your suspicions are true. Elverton shows no remorse for his conduct and just cunningly divulges only that which we have already discovered. He must have known that once his contact at the Horse Guards died by his own hand, the death would be investigated. Instead, he cheekily attempted to suborn that man’s replacement! It is a pity he did not put his courage to better use.”

“It is also a pity he did not use that business-like brain for something other than blackmail,” Robert cut in dryly.

“Certainly. The most despicable crime of all.”

Sir Ivor looked tired. He had obviously spent all night at the Horse Guards assisting in the interrogation of Lord Elverton. He was dressed as neatly as usual, but he seemed a little frayed around the edges, as if some of his vitality was missing.

Helena desperately tried to avoid his eyes. She could feel herself blushing.

“And how are your wounds this morning, Miss Marshfield?”

“They are nothing,” she disclaimed. “Just a little sore.”

“Then perhaps you would care to join us for breakfast? Robert, it is a pity you must eat alone, but we shall come back upstairs directly.”

Helena trod sedately beside Sir Ivor as they headed to the breakfast-room. At the door he stopped and reached out to take her hand. He looked at it reflectively as if he had never seen it before. He seemed to be in a strange mood.

“Helena, as soon as we have eaten I should like to speak with you. But we should keep Caroline company over breakfast. Mama and the girls have not yet come down.” He said no more, but just looked down at her, still holding on to her hand.

She lowered her eyes, again feeling that rush of warm excitement which overwhelmed her whenever he was near. Was he going to renew his addresses, or was this was about Lord Elverton’s conviction? He seemed to be in a determined mood about something, and after yesterday’s ordeal she was not sure she was ready to face him. He released her hand, and she murmured a meek little “yes” looking at him from under her eyelashes. He smiled, and her stomach jolted.

Breakfast took forever. Caroline chattered happily whilst Ivor seemed to be preoccupied. Helena struggled to chew a sliver of roast beef from one of the chafing dishes on the sideboard. She was exceedingly hungry, but her stomach was in such a turmoil and her lip hurt so badly that she was unable to do justice to more than a few sips of lukewarm tea. Caroline was concerned.

“Helena dear, you missed all your meals yesterday. Surely you must be hungry by now.”

“I am ravenous, Caroline, but it is too difficult to eat just now. Perhaps later I might be able to eat more.” Helena enunciated her words in a slurred manner that she found hurt her lips less.

Sir Ivor broke open a soft scone and buttered it lavishly. “Try this,” he suggested, passing it to her.

She smiled gratefully, albeit lopsidedly, and managed a couple of mouthfuls. Then she glanced up and saw Caroline watching them both, her head on one side.

Helena blushed and dipped her head. So much for imagining they were being discreet.

Ivor said nothing further as he worked his way through a huge platter of ham and eggs. He must be hungry, too, after being up all night. What would it be like to sit like this every morning after a ride through the park, discussing the day’s news and working out which of their responsibilities should be attended to? Heaven, she decided. That’s what it would be like.

Would he renew his offer? Oh yes, please God. But what if he merely wished to talk about where Robert’s further convalescence was to take place or something of that nature? She sighed inwardly. Yes, that might be it. After all, a man did not look for rejection a second time.

Armed with this sensible delusion she followed him into his library. He closed the door behind them and turned the key in the lock.

Helena swallowed. Hard. She looked down at her house slippers.

He approached her slowly, giving her time to retreat if she should wish. She didn’t wish. He slid an arm around her and raised her chin. “Look at me, Helena.” He drew in his breath. “Your poor face, sweet girl. I compounded what that creature did to you. If I could take it back I would. But I was in such a hurry to see if you were all right after having been with him all day that I just…” He shrugged expressively.

“It’s perfectly all right, sir. I understand. I would have done the same.”

“You mean you would have crashed the door on to my face?” he asked, laughing.

“Not unless it was warranted.”

“And under what circumstances would you consider it warranted?”

“Er—I don’t know.”

“Neither do I. My darling Helena, you know I would never hurt a hair of your head intentionally. But I was so worried—”

“I understand. No need to apologize, Sir Ivor.” She toyed with the idea of pointing out that she had not given him leave either to call her by her given name, nor to call her ‘darling.’ Of course, considering she had tossed herself into his arms yesterday, it was a bit late to demur over niceties.

And anyway, she had no objection—none at all—even though it would be seemly to protest a little.

“Come and sit down, Helena. I want to make some explanations to you that I was unable to do before.” He seated her comfortably on a settle and took up a stance in front of the fireplace. “Do you remember that I said the Staffords had a family secret I could not reveal? I didn’t realize how insulting that was, close on the heels of my proposal.”

She made a brushing motion with her hand to show him how unimportant that all was now.

“No,” he persisted. “I must tell you.”

He took a turn about the room, his hands clasped behind his back. “When I succeeded to my father’s shoes, I made the unpleasant discovery that the family fortunes were exceedingly diminished. We were on the point of bankruptcy. On making inquiries with the family solicitor and our old bailiff, I was told that my father’s way of life had been ruinous. He was often from home when I was a child, and as I got older, I noticed that he was at home less and less. Sometimes we would not see him for weeks on end. Like your father, he, too, was bitten by the gambling bug. He also drank to excess, though probably no more than any others among his cronies. But his gambling was out of control. My bailiff told me that Father would gamble on anything: a horse race, the turn of the dice, how many curtain calls Mrs. Siddons would take after a performance, how many foals and calves would be born on our estates during a season, or even the result of a race between two pigs or some such thing. As a result, when I took over the reins there was very little to take over. Fortunately Ryewolds was entailed so he couldn’t raise funds on that property, but Stafford House had two mortgages over it, and I despaired of being able to retain it. The farms attached to Ryewolds had been run so badly they were producing only a fifth of what was possible. The bailiff had grown tired of making suggestions to my father for ways to improve the situation. Father just kept saying that he would ‘see to it later.’ And then of course there were my father’s personal debts.” He took a deep breath.

Helena put out her hand to stop him. “Sir, you have no need to tell me all this. It is none of my business.”

He held on to her hand. “Of course it is your business, or I hope that it will be. Please, Helena. I need to explain how my hands have been tied. Anyway, I kept the true situation to myself and set about improving things as best I might. As you can imagine, this was a slow process. I tried to manage it so that the family lived in the same style to which they were accustomed. It was my responsibility, not theirs, to set things to rights.”

Helena stared at him. She had the utmost sympathy for him but could not understand why he thought he was the only responsible person in this situation.

“But surely your mama and your brother and sisters would have helped if they knew?”

“I did not want them to know. I did not want them to be worried about their futures, and I am still of that mind.”

She shook her head but said nothing further.

He sat down beside her. “I have managed slowly to improve matters. The farms are now producing better yields, and several of my investments have borne fruit. As a result, my father’s personal debts have been repaid. I have retired my bailiff and taken over his duties myself so that no secrets leak out. There is still a mortgage on this home, but there is scarcely a large house in London which is not mortgaged. Darling Helena, now do you understand why I wished desperately to ask you to share my life right from the first time I met you, but could not do so?”

“Oh Ivor, I could have helped. And I am far from being a spendthrift.” Sympathetic she might be, but she was indignant that he thought of a wife as an expensive undertaking.

Raising her hand to his lips he said, “It would not have been fair, Helena. You are a special woman who deserves to be treated generously.” He smiled at her mutinous expression. “But our circumstances have changed for the good recently. Now I can see my way to a clearer future. Such a relief.”

“But what has changed? Do you mean Prinny’s gift?”

“Partly. First Nerida became engaged to George, then Ned told me he was looking about for some gainful occupation, and now…” he shrugged. “Prinny’s gift is the icing on the cake. With the estate in Norfolk being enlarged, we can run Ryewolds the way it should be run. Our dependents there will be grateful to find their pleas for new roofs and pasture improvements will now fall on receptive ears. Not that I’m as bad a landlord as my father was, but it has been almost impossible to improve things when money was so tight.”

Indignantly Helena protested, “I imagine you are an extremely good landlord. But I still say I wouldn’t have been a charge on you. I could have helped you—”

He shook his head. “No man could ask a woman to marry him if he were in such straitened circumstances with all its incumbent responsibilities. Or so I thought until I nearly lost you.”

Helena thought, “He’s just like me. Too darned proud.”

“But now—” He broke off and got up to prowl restlessly around the room.

She began to understand that here was a man who had been sinking under the weight of responsibility. Certainly, he had had it thrust upon him. But he had willingly taken that weight and tried to turn it to advantage. Many another man in the same circumstances had shrugged, thrown up his hands, sold off anything unentailed, and run his entailed properties even further into the ground, leaving nothing for his children. Or perhaps he would have married an heiress. Ivor had done none of those things. He had not shirked his duty. He certainly was the honorable man she had always thought. She could trust him. She had known yesterday when he burst into that room that all her dithering was unnecessary.

She smiled mistily at him. He was still baring his soul and she tried to speak, but he stopped her.

“Yesterday when I realized Elverton had abducted you, my blood ran cold. I was desperate. I saw how much time I’d wasted in trying to get everything right. What use would doing the right thing have been if I’d lost you to Elverton? I vowed to myself then and there that if I could save you, that you would be all I’d want in the world.”

Helena sighed. What woman could resist that?

Yesterday had changed a lot of things. Especially it had changed them.

He sat down beside her again. “It is incumbent upon you to say something,” he urged.

“Oh, Ivor.” Leaning toward him in an undignified and unladylike manner she rested her head on his shoulder and sighed thankfully. “Yesterday, I, too, saw that all my excuses were just that—excuses. I was not really convinced you had a tendre for Caroline, or anyone else. But she is the daughter of a close associate of yours. It seemed logical to assume that…anyway, I am a governess, although the stigma of my father’s death and the threat of that promissory note from Elverton were the real barriers. I have too much regard for you to see you go through what I endured—that awful silence followed by hushed whispers at social gatherings.” Her breath hitched.

“My poor darling.” Then he murmured something indistinguishable and stroked her fingers. He began at the base and softly stroked in little increments upward to the tips.

Helena’s heart tripped, and she forgot to breathe. A scalding blush suffused her skin from her face down to her toes. Had she really been going to throw away this? She must have been out of her mind. She peered up at him from beneath her lashes. His eyes were half-closed as he stroked her hand rhythmically. Then he lifted the hand to his lips, taking one of her fingers into his mouth. Everything inside Helena softened. She relaxed languidly back against the sofa cushions.

His smile glinted. “And?” he prompted softly.

“A-And…what was I saying? Oh yes. That wretched vowel. You see, Sir Ivor,” she said seriously, knowing she was sinking fast but needing to explain herself first, “unlike Robert I knew Lord Elverton quite well, and I suspected that my father had used me as a—a gambling chip. Coming from such a despicable background, how could I ally myself with a decent family such as yours?”

Stafford folded both arms around her. “Helena, the problem of Elverton is now solved. He will never bother you again. And you have learned that your father loved you and did not want you to become involved with Elverton. So all we have left to worry about is to solve your muddled thoughts about being a governess.” He grinned at her then leaned forward and began to nuzzle her earlobe.

“No, no.” Her hand raised itself of its own volition and held tight to his lapel. “I decided yesterday that if I escaped from Elverton alive, I would stop worrying about being a governess. When I was locked in that room alone, I did a lot of thinking. I saw how silly I’d been to fret about how the rest of the world saw governesses. It’s just that I don’t enjoy being a governess so I haven’t been thinking rationally.”

He smiled and tipped a finger to her nose. “Neither have I since the day we met.”

“Yes, but…” She trailed away.

“Come on, Helena. Tell me what’s on your mind. We need to clear everything up so we can get on with living the way we deserve.”

She licked her lips. “Well…several days ago when we were out riding, some of your friends asked to be introduced. You hustled me away and ever since then you’ve been rather…distant.” She traced the button on his jacket until he clasped his hand over hers and held it still. “Ivor, you say my being a governess means nothing to you, but you cannot deny that you were most put out that morning.”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead with his forefinger, a habit she had noticed before. “My dear, I would have been proud to make you known to them, but have you thought of the consequences? As I had not yet offered for you, and in fact had no chance of doing so for at least another six months, you might well have become the butt of their ribald conversation, especially since you were staying at Stafford House. I thought it best to insinuate that you were one of my sister’s friends and that we were on our way to meet with Nerida. It was all I could think of on the spur of the moment. That particular group of men is not known for being discreet.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. Oh. Now, are you agreed that governessing is an honorable profession?”

She grinned. “Yes, Ivor. It is an honorable profession.” She could hardly say otherwise since his mama had been a governess.

“It certainly is. As you can see, it has done our family no harm at all. On the contrary, I believe we were better informed than most children.”

“Of course it did you no harm! I did not mean that…oh, you know perfectly well what I mean.”

“Not always, my love. Sometimes you are enigmatic to the point of being obscure.”

“I! I am enigmatic?” Helena exclaimed indignantly. “And just what do you call your behavior over the past two months?”

“Lovelorn,” Ivor said, taking her firmly into his arms. “Lost, puzzled, angry, startled, long-suffering but most of all, shockingly lovelorn. Now Miss Helena Marshfield, answer me this. Are you or are you not going to marry me next month?”

Helena dimpled. “Next month?”

“Next month.” Firmly.

“Oh, very well, Ivor. June sounds like a nice month to be married.”