Page 77 of The Duke's Promise to Her Child
I should not have taken you up on your kindness. And I promise that I will do whatever it is you wish to remedy our situation going forward.
Remedy our situation, he said and got up. He marched up and down her chamber twice, and then sat back on the bed. What did she mean by that? He was not going to agree to another annulment or a divorce. That was ludicrous. He had gone through the ordeal once, he wasn’t going to do it again. Besides, he loved Helena. If only she could fight for him, if only she could trust him…
He continued on with the rest.
I am returning to London post haste. I will be staying with Lady Clara. I understand that there are things that must be discussed. Practical arrangements. Please know that I expect nothing from you. I have looked after myself in the past and I shall do so again. I am considering making an arrangement with Emmett. There is a plot of land that is willed to Lavinia that he wishes to claim for himself and perhaps I will sell it to him on behalf of Lavinia. That should ensure that we are able to support ourselves. Mary has come with me, for which I am eternally grateful.
Trust that I mean it when I say I want the very best for you and I want the very best for me. And for Lavinia. And if you wish to see Lavinia, I will never stop you. She adores you. I do ask that you give me time before we make final arrangements.
Sincerely, Helena
There was a postscript which he read with a mix of amusement and exasperation.
I know it is unkind to ask you to look after Ruby, but I could not take her with me. I hope to find a small place with a garden where she can live with us. But in the meantime, please look after her.
He stared at the paper and noted that several more letters were smudged. It took him a second to realize that the reason for this was that he was crying.
I am not crying over Helena. I never cried over Cassandra. Why would I cry over Helena?He said to himself as he crumbled the letter in his hands. He wanted to throw it into the fire to have the satisfying sight of it being eaten away by the flames, but the fireplace was empty. There was nobody in this room who would need a stoked fireplace.
He sighed and fell backward, his right arm over his eyes as he cried. How had this all changed so much?
He rose, the shape of his body imprinted upon the duvet, and left the room. He shut the door behind him and made his way to his own chamber. There he sat down at his writing desk.
He dipped his quill into the ink well and wrote.
James – I shall require a favor of you…
When he had finished the letter, he sprinkled sand on the wet ink to dry it, then shook the sand off into the trashcan and folded and addressed the letter. He handed it to Heathcliff, who thankfully ignored his tear-stained eyes and sent it away.
And then Gideon stood in this large house that was so very perfect for a family. A house that was never meant to be his, that he had hoped to fill with the sound of children running and laughing. The house in which he had hoped he and Helena could grow old when they weren’t in London. The house that held so much promise when they had decided on the renovations together. And now he stood there, feeling like a stranger in his grand house once more, just as he had the very first time he had entered it as Duke not long ago.
CHAPTER 33
HELENA
The drizzle of an early morning rain tapped against the window pane. She stared up at the dark blue canopy decorated with golden half-moons and remembered, as she did each morning, that she was not at home.
It was odd to think of Blackthorne as home. But it had become that. Peculiar as that felt.
She was at Clara’s house. She had arrived two days ago, and had shared very little with her friend. Clara had not asked. But she would have to explain sooner or later, and she knew it. Helena was grateful for any reprieve for she felt at sixes and sevens after her departure. She’d taken herself off without much of a plan, and that a fact was now haunting her.
With a sigh she pushed herself up and swung her legs out of bed. She dressed without calling for Mary, though she felt guilty for it — for having uprooted Mary once again from the home she had known. Mary would never complain, never make her feel badly about it. But it was a fact nonetheless.
She put on one of her simplest dresses, one of the ones she had kept from Bloomsbury, and made her way downstairs.
To her surprise, she heard chatter and giggling coming from the drawing room. She took a breath and knocked on the door frame.
At least five pairs of eyes looked up at her and conversation ceased.
Clara was sitting among the Langley sisters and their cousin, the five of them arranged in a loose circle. And in the middle of them was Lavinia, currently engaged in piling an assortment of ribbons on top of her own head. The dolls, which had clearly also been provided for her entertainment, had been set aside in favor of this endeavor.
“Helena,” Evelyn said warmly. “It is so lovely to see you. We heard you were back in town. We hope you do not mind the intrusion.”
“Not at all,” she said, and took the empty seat beside Clara, who squeezed her hand.
“I thought you could do with the company,” Clara said.
“Yes,” Helena replied. “It is lovely.”
