18

Tension radiated through Zayne as he sat staring at Helena, still unable to comprehend what the woman was doing back in New York or why she seemed to be under the impression he’d be willing to marry her.

After Matilda had charged through the ballroom, complete and utter insanity had taken over the Watson house. Guests began fleeing for the doors while Matilda had gone straight for Helena, forcing the lady to turn on her dainty heel and flee, her screams of terror mingling with the shouts of the guests. She’d sought refuge in the Watson library, after Matilda had taken a few bites at her stocking-clad leg, and she’d barricaded herself in that room, refusing to open the door even for him.

Servants had been forced to break in through a window, and when he’d finally gained entrance, he’d found Helena sitting on the floor, sobbing hysterically, although she’d been coherent enough to proclaim, numerous times, that she expected him to remember his pledge to her and that they needed to get married without delay. After wailing for a good five minutes, she’d suddenly slumped motionless to the floor and refused to open her eyes, even when he’d threatened to dump a glass of water over her face.

Hamilton had come to his rescue and picked Helena straight up off the floor, causing one of her eyes to open. When she’d gotten a look at Hamilton’s furious face, she’d evidently decided fainting was a prudent option because she went limp in his arms and didn’t move another muscle, even when Hamilton carried her outside and practically tossed her into Zayne’s carriage. After seeing Helena settled, Zayne had hobbled back into the house and began to search for Agatha, but she’d disappeared.

Cora had found him standing in the empty ballroom. She’d shaken her head rather sadly, told him her daughter had needed some air, but then her eyes began to glint and she’d told him to “Go take care of that woman, and, dear, take care of her well,” before she’d turned and marched out of the ballroom, leaving Zayne alone again. In no particular hurry to see Helena, he’d looked for any and every excuse not to leave the Watson home, but eventually he accepted he had no choice but to deal with Helena.

So here he was, back at his house, with Helena stretched out on the settee, more irritated than he’d ever been in his life, yet worried as well since he hadn’t spoken a word to Agatha after Helena’s surprising and untimely interruption.

She had to be furious with him. Once again, she had to believe he’d chosen Helena over her, although that wasn’t the case at all. He had no intention of giving in to Helena’s demands, didn’t feel the slightest compulsion to even humor her, and couldn’t, quite frankly, believe the woman had the audacity to show up in New York after she’d left him for another man.

“Zayne, be a dear and fetch me another cool cloth,” Helena purred.

Zayne looked at his leg propped up on the table, looked at Helena who was sitting right next to a pitcher of water and a stack of cloths, and crossed his arms over his chest. “The pitcher is right next to you, Helena. Get it yourself.”

“Why are you being so hateful?”

He could think of numerous answers to that particular question.

She’d left him without a second thought when he’d needed her most, left him for another gentleman.

He’d been in the middle of proposing to the woman he now knew he loved more than life itself, when she’d burst into the room and ruined everything.

She’d kicked poor Matilda, although to be fair, the little pig had been trying to gnaw on her leg, but still, Matilda was just a small creature. It wasn’t as if she could have done any major damage to the leg.

“What are you doing here, Helena?” he settled on asking.

Helena released an overly dramatic sigh. “I’m feeling faint.”

Since he’d gotten remarkably adept at faking that particular symptom, he let out a snort. “Your face is blooming with color, my dear, which means you’re not feeling faint in the least. So again, what you are doing here?”

She plopped the back of her hand over her forehead. “I came to my senses and realized you’re the man I truly long to marry. Isn’t that wonderful news, darling?”

“Not particularly.”

The hand fell from her forehead as Helena abruptly sat up. “You promised you’d marry me.”

Zayne narrowed his eyes. “Have you gotten yourself into some type of . . . trouble?”

Helena’s mouth dropped open. “Of course not . . . Well, perhaps,” she admitted as she smiled a little too slyly.

She’d never been a lady who’d mastered the whole poker-face business. Annoyance caused him to drum his fingers against the arm of the chair. “What type of trouble are you in, Helena?”

“Oh, let’s not get into that just yet, darling, but about that cool cloth?”

“The water pitcher is right beside you, Helena,” Gloria snapped as she stormed into the room. “I finally caught Matilda with Piper, Lily, and Grace’s help, but it wasn’t an easy feat by any stretch of the imagination. The poor dear was completely beside herself, especially after the horrendous treatment she suffered at your foot, Helena.”

Helena sent Gloria a glare. “That beast was attacking me. And I cannot believe you have the audacity to chide a lady who has just suffered the indignity of watching the man she’s supposed to marry almost propose to another lady and then get set upon by a mad pig.”

“Helena just claimed she might have gotten herself into a little trouble,” Zayne said, drawing Gloria’s attention.

Gloria advanced farther into the room. “Am I to assume this trouble might just demand you find yourself a husband before you start getting a little . . . round?”

Helene’s face turned pink. “Ah, well . . .”

“I realize you’re probably not the type of lady who has a mind for math, but you haven’t seen Zayne for over a year. If—and I stress the if part—you are in trouble, Zayne had nothing to do with your condition.”

“He’ll still marry me though.”

The annoyance he’d been feeling turned to anger. It boiled through his veins and caused his skin to heat.

The woman smiling so very smugly in front of him might have just cost him everything—not that she would care about that. She was manipulative, selfish, and downright mean, and he’d had quite enough of her.

They’d been friends for years, since childhood, but friends didn’t abandon a man when he was at his lowest. They also didn’t put their needs, and their wants, and their problems, before everyone else’s, specifically those of the gentleman they intended to marry.

Helena wasn’t his friend, certainly wasn’t the love of his life, and never had been—that was very clear.

Agatha made him laugh, wanted what was best for him, and had never, not once, demanded a cool cloth be fetched for her.

Hadn’t Helena noticed his leg was encased in plaster?

She certainly hadn’t inquired about his health.

“You claim you’ve gotten yourself in trouble, dear, and if that is the case, I’m afraid you’re going to have to prove it,” Gloria said, pulling him rather abruptly back to the situation at hand.

“I beg your pardon?”

“When are you expecting?”

“Ah, January?”

“Then that would make you about seven months along, but you don’t look to be seven months along. In fact, you’re looking remarkably svelte.”

“I’m not svelte at all,” Helena protested, although she unconsciously smoothed down her gown as she protested, drawing attention to the fact she was, indeed, rather svelte.

His temper edged up a notch. Leaning forward in his chair, he smiled. “Let me see.”

“What?”

“You’re apparently attempting to pass yourself off as an expectant mother, so I need to see proof of that.”

“I don’t need to prove anything to you. You once promised me you’d marry me, and I’m here to hold you to that promise whether I’m in trouble or not.”

“So you’re not in trouble?”

Blowing out a breath, Helena rolled her eyes. “Well, fine then, I’m not in that type of trouble. Can’t you just believe that I’ve come back because I still love you?”

“You never loved me, Helena.”

“That’s not true, I’m sure I must have at some point.”

He wasn’t certain, but he thought he heard his mother let out a grunt.

Helena seemingly heard it as well, because she swung her attention to Gloria and sent her another glare. “I don’t think you need to be here. This is between me and Zayne. Besides, you never liked me.”

“God forgive me, but you’ve got the right of that.” Gloria began advancing toward Helena again, her eyes blazing. “You took advantage of the fact Zayne is a true gentleman. You used his sense of honor against him, and I never said much, believing he’d come to his senses, but then . . . you left him when he was at his weakest. Even though God expects me to forgive you, I’ll never like you, ever, and hear me well, dear, you’ll never hurt my son again.”

Zayne felt the oddest urge to jump to his feet and applaud his mother, but the cast on his leg prevented any jumping. Also, since Helena was now bristling with indignation, he didn’t think it would really help the situation currently taking place in front of him.

“I didn’t come here to hurt your son. I came to allow him the pleasure of my hand in marriage.”

Zayne cleared his throat. “I don’t believe either of us would find any pleasure being married to each other, Helena. Why don’t you just tell me why you’re really here?”

Helena looked as if she wasn’t going to reply, but she then took a deep, dramatic breath, slowly released it, drew in another, released that one more slowly than the first, and finally opened her mouth. “I need you to marry me before my parents get back to town and force me to marry Gilbert.”

Of anything he’d been expecting her to say, that hadn’t even crossed his mind. He simply sat there, stunned, unable to find his voice. Luckily for him, his mother didn’t seem to have a shortage for words.

“I always knew there was something horribly wrong with you, dear, but may I presume this Gilbert is the gentleman you took up with after you abandoned my son?”

“Honestly, Mrs. Beckett, I take offense at the term abandoned,” Helena said with a sniff. “You, of all people, considering you’ve known me forever, should know that I certainly couldn’t have nursed your son back to health, especially since it appeared to me he was never going to fully recover.” She shook her head. “I am a lady of tender sensibilities, and those sensibilities do not allow me to cater to the needs of others. I am too delicate, too refined, so I had no choice but to part ways with your son, even though it pained me to no small end.” She turned to him and smiled. “You understood though, didn’t you, darling?”

Zayne blinked and realized that he understood only too well.

A great weight lifted from his shoulders, and he sent up a silent prayer of thanks to God for allowing him to see that Helena had never been meant for him.

She was too shallow, too self-consumed, and she would have never made him happy, nor would he have been able to make her happy, no matter how many cool cloths he fetched for her.

He shifted in his seat, surprised to feel a smile tug the corners of his lips. “What did Gilbert do to you to make you run away?”

Helena began to pout. “I don’t care to discuss Gilbert.”

“I’m afraid I must insist, since you’ve gone to great lengths to get away from him and done a fairly nice job of ruining my life.”

“Your life isn’t ruined, Zayne.”

“If you’ve caused me to lose Agatha, yes it is.”

“That’s the lady in the purple dress? The one you were about to give my ring to?”

“It was never your ring, but getting back to Gilbert—what happened?”

“I told you, I don’t care to discuss him.”

“Then I can’t waste any more time on you.” Reaching for his crutches, he pulled himself out of the chair and headed for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Helena demanded.

“I need to find Agatha and make matters right with her.”

“You can’t just walk away from me.”

Moving forward, he looked over his shoulder. “I think you’ll find out soon enough that I can.” He’d almost made it to the door when Helena let out a loud wail and dissolved into a fit of weeping that could have earned her a role on any stage.

It was one of her favorite ploys to get her way, and he’d humored her over the years by giving in to her. Those days, however, were long gone, and he had more important matters to attend to, mainly getting to Agatha and begging her forgiveness.

“I say, sir, what have you done to Miss Collins?”

Zayne froze as a man suddenly hustled through the door and brushed past him in a blur, obviously intent on getting to Helena. Turning, Zayne felt his mouth drop open when Helena’s sobs came to an immediate end right as she jumped up from the settee and plopped her hands on her hips.

“What are you doing here, Gilbert?” she demanded.

Zayne knew his mouth was still gaping open, but he didn’t seem to have the presence of mind to snap it shut. He’d never seen the man Helena had left him for but had conjured up an image in his mind. This man, however, was nothing like that image. He’d expected Helena’s love to be tall, broad-shouldered, and incredibly handsome, but Gilbert possessed none of those qualities. He was short—shorter than Helena—had not a single hair on his head, wore gold-rimmed spectacles, and his clothing was rumpled and ill-fitting, although, to give the man credit, he had a very nice smile.

The pale green eyes behind the spectacles held a trace of amusement as the gentleman gazed rather fondly at Helena, even as he continued to smile.

“I’ve come to fetch you back, my darling,” he crooned.

“How did you get to me so fast?” Helena shot back.

“I was on the same train as you, although I was careful to never allow you to see me.”

Helena narrowed her eyes. “I don’t need fetching. Zayne’s the gentleman for me now, and I’ll have you know, he’s never been mean to me. . . . Well, except for today, and he almost always grants me my dearest wishes.”

Zayne’s mouth finally closed as the reasoning behind Helena’s appearance in his life became clear. She’d been thwarted by this unassuming gentleman standing before him, and she was miffed.

“You don’t really mean that, dear,” Gilbert said. “But I’ve been pondering your latest request, and though I find it a bit extravagant to travel over to Europe for our honeymoon, I truly do wish to make you happy. I’ve taken it upon myself to purchase us tickets, and as soon as we’ve exchanged vows, we can be on our way.”

Helena stuck her nose in the air. “I’m not marrying you. You were horrid to me, as were my parents, and I’m staying in New York, with Zayne.” She let out a sniff. “Besides, I didn’t simply want to travel to Europe—I wanted you to buy me a house in Paris.”

“Yes, I clearly remember that outrageous request.”

“And are you willing to give in to that little request in order to win my hand?”

“No.”

“Then I’m staying here with Zayne.”

“Will he buy you a house in Paris?” Gilbert asked, his eyes now clearly brimming with amusement, even though Helena had taken to pouting again.

“Probably not,” she finally admitted.

Gilbert tilted his head, his smile never wavering. “I suppose you’re facing a bit of a dilemma, then. You can agree to marry me and travel to Europe for our honeymoon, or you can stay here with this gentleman, who doesn’t exactly seem thrilled by your presence, and never see me again.”

“I didn’t say I never wanted to see you again,” Helena said slowly.

“You left me.”

“Only because I really want that house in Paris.”

“It’s your choice darling, me or a house in Paris.”

“You have enough money,” Helena said, her pout becoming more pronounced. “I don’t understand why you won’t just buy me what I want.”

“Because I love you too much to give in to you all the time, and it’s past time you, my love, grew up.”

Zayne could hear the tick of the clock on the wall as Helena glared at Gilbert, but she finally blew out a breath. “Fine, I’ll marry you and you can take me off on a European honeymoon, but I’m not happy about it.”

“Of course you’re not, darling,” Gilbert said, moving to take her arm. “Shall we go find someone to marry us? I’m sure for the right price some minister out there won’t mind doing the job.”

“Right now? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Yes, but if we find someone to marry us tonight, we can leave on our honeymoon in the morning.”

“And then we’ll get to Europe sooner,” Helena breathed.

“That’s why I adore you, my darling girl—you’re so smart,” Gilbert said. He sent a nod to Zayne and turned to Gloria but didn’t have a chance to nod to her because she was moving toward Helena, her expression furious.

“That’s it?” Gloria demanded. “You come waltzing back to New York, ruin my son’s life by interrupting his proposal to Agatha, and then you’re simply going to run off, marry another gentleman, and go take in the sights in Europe?”

Helena dropped Gilbert’s arm, and much to Zayne’s surprise, went to meet Gloria in the middle of the room. “Mrs. Beckett, I doubt you really want me to linger, but I do owe you and, more importantly, your son an apology.” Helena glanced to Zayne. “You were always too honorable for your own good, my friend, but you’re right. We wouldn’t make each other happy, and you deserve to be happy. I’m sorry if I caused you some difficulty with that lady in the purple dress.”

“Good heavens, darling, what have you done?” Gilbert asked.

Not particularly wanting to watch Helena dive right back into a dramatic performance, Zayne took one step forward. “It doesn’t matter, Gilbert.” He nodded to Helena. “Go, get married, and try not to drive this nice gentleman insane.”

For a second, Helena’s eyes turned misty, one of the few times he’d ever seen true tears in them. “I am sorry,” she whispered, moving closer to him to kiss his cheek before she returned to Gilbert’s side and took his arm. “Shall we go?”

Gilbert chucked her under the chin and smiled. “Indeed we shall.” With that, they walked through the door, disappearing from sight.

“I must say, that’s one of the oddest scenes I’ve ever witnessed,” Gloria said. “At least you’ve finally been shown Helena’s true character, something I’ve been asking God to show you for years.”

Zayne smiled. “He’s been showing me a lot lately.”

“Such as the fact you’re in love with Agatha?”

Before Zayne could reply, Eliza stepped into the room, looking a bit bemused. “I just saw Helena getting into a carriage with a gentleman I’ve never seen before.”

“That’s Gilbert, Helena’s fiancé,” he told her. “She’s off to Europe after they get married.”

“Huh, well, good for her, or rather, good for you. One less complication in your life will be wonderful.” She stepped closer and gave him a hug. “What are you going to do about Agatha?”

“Once I find her, I’m hoping to extend her an extraordinary proposal.”

“Make it good, Zayne. Agatha’s my best friend, and you’ve hurt her, badly this time I think.”

Zayne nodded. “I know, and I promise you I’m going to make it up to her, but first I need to find her.”

“Cora told me she went out for some air, but I think she went to get that air with Mr. Blackheart and Drusilla.”

“At least she’ll be safe with them.”

“Well, it is Agatha, but . . .” She looked around the room. “Where’s Piper?”

“I thought she was with you,” Gloria said.

“I thought she was with you,” Eliza countered. “Didn’t she ride back here in your carriage after the dinner party?”

Gloria shook her head. “The last time I saw her, she was trying to calm Matilda down in Cora’s drawing room with Lily and Grace.”

“She must still be over at the Watson house,” Zayne said. “She adores Matilda, and I can see her losing track of time and forgetting she’s supposed to ride home with someone. I’m going there now, so I’ll get her and bring her home to you, Eliza.”

The sound of running feet had Zayne swiveling on his crutches and facing the door, right as his sister, Arabella, lumbered into the room, her face white and her breathing labored.

“Good heavens, Arabella, what are you doing out tonight?” he demanded. “You’re in no condition to be out in the cold.”

Arabella drew in a gulp of air, rubbed her incredibly large stomach, and then, with tears flowing down her beautiful face, she opened her mouth. “Theodore just received disturbing news, and since he needed to leave right away, I was the only one around to let you know.” She drew in another gulp of air. “Drusilla’s been shot, Jeffrey Murdock is unconscious, and Francis has been injured as well.”

“And Agatha?” He forced the question through lips that had gone stiff.

“She’s gone.”