A Countess by Christmas (13 page)

U
pon her return to the house, Helen went straight upstairs to change out of her outdoor clothes.

She was still feeling somewhat disturbed after that fleeting glimpse of Lord Bridgemere. As soon as he had ridden away her pleasure in the morning’s activity had dimmed. She had so wished he might have come and joined them. If not for her sake, then for his own. He ought to have been able to take part in the fun everyone else was having. Instead, he had kept his distance.

Dispensing largesse to others whilst staying aloof from them was what he did best. She sighed sadly. Each night, for instance, he provided wonderful food and plenty of drink. Yet he ate but sparingly, and remained sober when the other gentlemen drank to excess. She shuddered as she remembered Swaledale’s beastly behaviour. And perceived that Lord Bridgemere would detest being as out of control as that youth.

She wished he were not always quite so serious, though. For a man so young, he carried a great weight
of responsibility on his shoulders. She wondered how often he was truly free from care. She wished she might see him smiling more often. Laughing at life’s simple pleasures.

But his life was not simple. A great many people depended upon him. And, particularly at this time of year, he had to make a great many decisions about their welfare.

She found herself yawning as she went along the corridor that led to the rooms she shared with Aunt Bella. Heavens, but she was tired! She had barely slept since coming here. And each day had been filled with such emotional turmoil she was quite wrung out with it all. She would be glad when it was time to leave and take up her new post. Being around the insular Lord Bridgemere was too emotionally exhausting.

Yet another shock awaited her when she opened her door. For Aunt Bella was sitting on the chair before the fire, sobbing helplessly into her handkerchief.

A shaft of cold dread struck her in the midriff. For it had been her aunt’s turn, this morning, to visit Lord Bridgemere in his study and plead her case.

‘Oh, Aunt Bella, whatever is the matter?’ she cried, darting across the room and falling to her knees at her aunt’s feet. ‘What did he say to you to make you weep like this? What is to become of you? Oh, I cannot believe he could be so cruel!’

She could not help thinking of how coldly he had looked at her after she had slapped his face last night. But, surely…? He had vowed he was not the kind of man to take a petty revenge on a third party! Yet her aunt was weeping as though her heart had broken, when she
never cried. She had not even cried when their landlord had threatened to evict them from the home that was so dear to her. No, she had just metaphorically rolled up her sleeves and sought a solution for them both.

‘C…cruel?’ her aunt sniffed, dabbing at her eyes. ‘Oh, he has not been cruel at all. So kind. So very kind…’ She attempted a wavering smile, but then burst into tears again.

‘But you are crying…’

Aunt Bella balled her soggy handkerchief and took a deep breath.

‘I have maligned that boy,’ she sobbed. ‘He was not a b…bit censorious of the way I chose to live all those years, nor did he make me feel inc…competent when I told him what had happened to the b…bank. No snide comments about females not being fit to manage m…money matters and how it would have been better to have been guided by my b…brothers even if I did choose not to marry.’

She drew in a shuddering breath. ‘He…he said that this k…kind of thing happens all the time, which is why more experienced men of business n…never put all their eggs in one basket. He laid the blame squarely on my man of business, Ritson, for not spreading my capital amongst a diverse range of enterprises. I told him about the time I wanted to invest in the canal company,’ she said, her tears ceasing to flow as the light of indignation came to her eyes, ‘and that little manufactory that wanted capital to make modernisations, and how Ritson talked me out of it as being too risky. Risky!’ She squeezed her handkerchief so hard Helen knew she was imagining fastening those fingers round Mr Ritson’s
neck. ‘Lord Bridgemere told me that had I had my way on just those two ventures I would now be as well off as I had ever been!’

Helen settled back on her heels, drawing off her gloves with profound relief. Her aunt was drying her eyes, though she had known that she was much more her old self when she had mimed wringing Mr Ritson’s neck. Helen could not help admitting to herself that a great deal of her relief stemmed from knowing her faith in Lord Bridgemere had not been misplaced. For a moment, when she had feared he might have refused to help her aunt in her hour of need, it had felt as though her whole world had turned upside down.

‘I had been so afraid, Helen, that he would insist my brother resume his responsibilities towards me, even though we have been at daggers drawn all these years. After all, he must be in some kind of trouble himself, or he would not be here, would he? And I thought the price Lord Bridgemere would make him pay for bailing him out would be taking me under his wing again.’ She shuddered eloquently.

‘Thank heaven it was no such thing. To begin with, His Lordship has offered to look into my finances for me, and see if anything may be salvaged,’ she said, dabbing at her nose. ‘And if I am really as poor as I fear, he will make arrangements for me to find a new home in which I may be happy. What do you think of that?’

‘That,’ said Helen, untying the strings of her bonnet, ‘it is most thoughtful of him…’

A wave of tenderness towards him swept over her. How tactfully he had dealt with what could have been a most painful interview for her aunt. Aunt Bella was a
proud, independent woman. It had not been the poverty so much as the prospect of having to beg for help that had been making her ill. ‘He
is
thoughtful, Helen.’ Aunt Bella frowned. ‘You know, I had gained the impression that he had grown hard and unapproachable in recent years. But perhaps it was just my reluctance to have to approach anyone for help after I had fought so hard to maintain my independence from my overbearing brothers which coloured the way I regarded him.’

In short, she had resented having to humble herself. And therefore resented
him
.

And she, Helen, had absorbed those same views. Her aunt’s bitterness had made her suspicious when she need not have been, and angry with him without cause. He had never been intentionally unkind. It had not been his fault that her aunt had worked herself up into a state about casting herself on his mercy. It had not been his fault that she had ended up in that little tower room untended, either. She recalled his chagrin upon discovering the mistake which had resulted in his elderly relative lying up there unattended for hours.

She really had behaved dreadfully, Helen reflected, yet another wave of self-disgust churning through her. She remembered the coldness of his eyes after she had slapped him, now piercing her deeply in such rebuke that it was all she could do to keep her chin up.

The only fault she could find with him now was that he tended to be rather aloof.

She groaned inwardly. But if she had a family like his would not she, too, take care to steer clear of them from one year’s end to the next?

‘Oh,’ said Aunt Bella, leaning back and shutting her eyes. ‘It feels as though an enormous weight has rolled off my shoulders.’

‘I am so pleased for you, Aunt Bella,’ she said. But a wave of sorrow swept through her. Everyone was here because they wanted something from him. But where did he turn when
he
needed help? She shook her head at the ridiculous notion. A man like him would never need help from anyone. Least of all her.

‘Before I forget,’ said Aunt Bella, sitting up and opening her eyes, ‘I should tell you that a letter has arrived for you.’ She pointed to the console table just inside the door. ‘I put it over there.’

Getting to her feet, Helen went and picked up the single sheet of paper, and broke open the wafer.

‘It is from the Harcourts,’ she said, quickly checking the signature. ‘They want me to go to them straight away. Some domestic crisis.’ She frowned at the few lines scrawled upon the page, which explained very little.

‘Oh, Helen, I shall be so sorry to see you go.’

‘I shall be sorry to have to leave,’ Helen admitted. It was ironic that only a few minutes since she had been wishing she could leave Alvanley Hall, and the agonising pain of becoming increasingly infatuated with a man so very far out of her league. Yet now the Harcourts had summoned her the prospect that this was it, she must bid him farewell and never see him again, felt perfectly dreadful. As though a huge dark cloud was hovering above her.

Helen smiled bravely. ‘At least I shall not be worrying
about your future, now that Lord Bridgemere has turned out to be so very kind.’

She crumpled the letter in her hand.

‘I am just going to take off my coat, Aunt Bella,’ she said, darting into her own room to conceal the fact that there were tears in her eyes. ‘And then I will see about getting you some luncheon.’ She removed her bonnet, hastily dabbing at her eyes with the ribbons. ‘This afternoon,’ she called, ‘I have promised to help Reverend Mullen again, with the theatricals for the children.’

‘That is fine by me, dear,’ she heard her aunt reply from the other room. ‘I shall have forty winks and then go down and join Lady Norton in a hand or two of piquet.’

Helen scrabbled in her coat pocket for a handkerchief and blew her nose. There. She was fine again. Fixing a smile on her face, she returned to the main room.

‘I should not be a bit surprised,’ her aunt said, ‘if His Lordship does not try to see if he can somehow kill two birds with one stone by housing me with her.’

‘Do you really think so?’

‘Lady Norton,’ her aunt said, lowering her voice and leaning towards her niece, ‘has such a passion for gambling that even here her husband watches her like a hawk. We play for ivory counters, from some old gaming boxes we found, because he has forbidden her ever to play for money again. And she seems quite scared of disobeying him. His Lordship may well agree to pay off her debts, if that is what they are asking for, in return for taking me in. Though of course that is only conjecture.’

‘Would you like to go and live in such a household?’

‘Do
you
really want to go and work as a governess for strangers?’ Aunt Bella fired straight back at her. ‘What we both want,’ she said, her lower lip quivering, ‘is to be able to go back to the way things were in Middleton. Living simply and quietly, dependent upon nobody, and able to please ourselves. But if you can go out to work for a living,’ she said, lifting her chin, ‘without uttering one word of reproach to me or anyone else, I can certainly go and act as companion to a woman who is in need of a steadying influence in her life. Not only against her addiction to gambling, but also as a shield against that overbearing husband of hers. And if that
is
the solution His Lordship finds for me, I shall certainly consider it quite seriously. I always liked Sally. After all these years, it is amazing to find that I still do.

‘But in any case, I have no need to rush into a decision. Although His Lordship will not be remaining here long after Twelfth Night he has said I may as well stay on, since there are umpteen empty rooms and a small kernel of servants who keep the place up.’ A determined look came over her. ‘Though you may be sure that if I do stay on here I shall find some way to make myself useful. I dislike the thought of being a charity case.’

Helen was quite sure that Lord Bridgemere would make sure Aunt Bella never felt that way. She sighed. There was really no need for her to stay at Alvanley Hall any longer now that her aunt’s future was assured. There was no excuse she could give to put off answering her employer’s summons.

‘I had better write to the Harcourts straight away and tell them I shall make my way there as soon as is practicable.’

‘I wish you need not go,’ said Aunt Bella, twisting her handkerchief between her fingers. ‘I am quite sure that His Lordship would make some provision for you, too, if you were not too proud to ask him.’ She held up her hand as Helen opened her mouth to make her objections known. ‘No, you do not need to say it. You have no claim upon him. I know how hard it would be for you to accept his help, since I have found it so difficult to come here myself, and it is his
duty
to look after me. But this one thing I will say. It would be foolish of you not to ask his help with the travel arrangements. You have already partaken of his hospitality, and this would only be an extension of that.’

Helen thought he would probably be so relieved to know she was leaving he would be tempted to load her into the coach himself. He would think it well worth a little inconvenience if it meant ridding himself of a woman he regarded as a conniving hussy who prowled round the house in her nightwear, hoping to lure him into her clutches.

‘Do you know?’ Aunt Bella continued. ‘He said that if we had written to confide the difficulties we were experiencing he would have sent his own coach to fetch us here. He said he was mortified to think of the struggles we had endured, the deleterious effect the rigours of our journey had on my health. Imagine that.’

Helen sighed. She could imagine it all too well. Lord Bridgemere was, beneath that forbidding exterior, a good man. A decent man.

‘Then I will ask him if he would be so kind as to make the travel arrangements for me.’

It would probably be best if she went to Mr
Cadwallader and asked him to arrange an appointment. She did not want to have to suffer the indignity of approaching Lord Bridgemere in the blue saloon before dinner tonight, with all those beady eyes on her. All those ears straining to overhear what was her business alone. Besides, she knew only too well that it was completely beyond her capabilities to conceal the effect he had on her. And there was nothing more pathetic than females who made fools of themselves over men who were just not interested.

He would probably not have time to schedule such an appointment before tomorrow. Christmas Eve. She frowned. The day would be packed with so many activities, he might well be too busy to fit her in at all. And had he not said that he only granted each of his guests just one appointment, anyway? And then it would be Christmas Day, and of course he would not make his coachman set out on such a long journey—not on a day which ought to be a holiday for all.