Heathcliff blinked. “Not that I am aware of, Your Grace. Shall I call for the housekeeper?”
Gideon nodded while Heathcliff summoned Mrs Strom. His stomach contracted. Leave...why would Helena just leave without a word? What did this mean?
The housekeeper hurried down the stairs post haste, having been summoned at once. He could tell immediately that she knew more than his poor hapless butler.
“Your Grace.” She bowed.
“Where is my wife, Mrs Strom?”
She gulped and folded her hands in front of her lap.
“She has gone to London, this morning. I...I have seen a letter addressed to you in her chambers.”
“And you did not inform me,” Heathcliff demanded at once.
“She swore me to secrecy. She, Mary and I moved a trunk down the stairs in the early morning hours and she called a hired carriage.”
She looked at the floor, clearly distressed. Any anger Gideon might have felt at this deception dissipated. He did not wish to be the sort of employer to make a woman feel scared for her position or fear his wrath.
“I understand, Mrs Strom. You are our employee and Her Grace is your superior just as I am. You could not have denied her. Now, the letter?”
“It is in her chambers, on the bedside table.”
He nodded and rushed up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. At the top he leaned forward and rushed to her chamber.
He pushed the door open with such force, it slammed against the wall and then almost hit him in the face. He didn’t care.
He was too busy taking in the sight before him. The space was void of her presence. He had been in her chamber a few times since her arrival and had always noticed the touches that were unique to Helena. The books she so enjoyed used to be piled on her bedside table, or on the desk. Both spaces were empty now.
Her clothes always hung neatly hung up in the armoire, but the door always stayed a little ajar because Lavinia liked to play hide and seek there.
It was open now also, but only a few dresses hung on the hangers, swaying like sad reminders of what had once been.
Her bed was made. The half burned down candle still stood in the candle holder as if waiting to be lit. But the emptiness was overwhelming.
Even her side table was empty. None of her patch boxes remained. None of her belongings.
What he did see was the letter Mrs Strom had mentioned. It leaned against the wall on the nightstand.
Gideon gulped and took the letter. His name had been written there.
He unfolded the letter, his eyes flying over the lines. The letter spanned one page written in her elegant handwriting, although he noted that towards the bottom, a few of the letters had smudged. Whether because she hadn’t dried the ink properly before folding or from tears, he didn’t know.
He gulped.
Gideon – I want to start this letter by telling you that I am grateful for what you have done for me. That you have attempted to help me. More than once. First because my father elicited such a promise from you, and then because the lies that were told by others were catching up to me and threatening myreputation. And I suppose I should thank you for interceding for me for a third time when it came to Emmett Graham.
He told me that you wrote to him regarding Lavinia and that you are the reason he sent me much needed funds. I want to thank you for that although it seems that this may also have been the reason for the sudden rumors. He indicated as much.
Gadzooks, that bird-witted man… Of course he would take his vengeance. What a rotten family. They are a lot of them.
He should’ve considered that something like that might happen. But that the man might wish to take his vengeance in such a way… It was ridiculous. Ridiculous to come after her in such a way… But it didn’t matter now. None of this was related to Emmett Graham, anyhow.
He looked back at the letter.
I could hear how much I hurt you during our last conversation and I am sorry that I cannot live up to the expectations you had for this marriage. I wanted to be the kind of wife you longed for. The wife you wished for. But I cannot. I am who I am and I will never change.
I truly thought that our arrangement as we agreed upon would work because I knew that you were so hurt by Cassandra that you no longer believed in marriage. I did not understand that that would change. And perhaps it’s my fault.