The Madcap Marriage (17 page)

Picking up the report, she sank into a chair. “Suggest that the runner interview Mr. Garrison Waddell. He had a run-in with Dudley six years ago. Sir Harold Atchison might also help. And Lord Bromley.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know, but Papa mentioned them. He had many correspondents and often shared news with us, especially when he was irritated with Dudley.”

Rafe wondered if Dudley had been instrumental in sending Bromley to the country on a repairing lease.

“A thorough investigation will prepare us for the next confrontation,” she continued, tapping the report. “If he is this deeply in debt, he can’t afford to abandon his obsession.”

“I agree. Even if someone else killed Alquist, Steven and Dudley will remain threats.”

“Do you still think Goddard did it?”

“Or Hillcrest.”

“Hillcrest!”  She sprang to her feet. “Why would he kill Alquist?”

“He’s hated him since the day we became friends – longer, really. The charge that he led me into dissipation replaced an earlier one that he encouraged Mother’s intransigence – Lady Alquist often urged Mother to visit them in London.” Hillcrest would never accept that Alquist had prevented Rafe from destroying himself.

“Irritation doesn’t drive a rational man to murder.” She shook her head.

“I don’t consider him rational.”

She covered his hand. “Investigate to set your mind at rest, but I will not believe that even a madman would consider that just cause for death.”

“Perhaps not.” Sighing, he pulled out a sheet of stationery. A quarter hour later, he sealed his letter, then pulled Helen into his arms. He needed her warmth to dispel the chill of picturing Alquist murdered. It was jolting to realize how quickly he’d come to crave her. He must be more careful. “I wish we could count on Steven to stay in town. But desperation might push him to pillage Audley so he can flee the country. We’ll leave first thing in the morning,” he murmured into her ear. “You were right. The only way to protect Audley is to be there.”

“No.” She pulled back far enough to see his face. Steven’s fleeing England was the best solution. And it expanded her options. Rafe was so reticent about his family that she could only understand him by seeing them together. And he was so good at inciting passion that she must do it before he snagged her heart. “Audley is important, but it must wait a few days. If Steven steals enough to flee the country, I will rejoice. It’s more important to call on your father.”

“Absolutely not!”  Shocked, he whirled away.

“Are you ashamed to introduce me as your wife?”

“Of course not!”  He glared at her. “But I refuse to set foot in his house. I can’t escape being his heir, but I won’t subject you to one of his fits.”

“Rafe.” She paused to find the words. His fury increased her determination. If he needed help, as Lady Alquist claimed, she must meet his father. “Hillcrest might be the greatest ogre imaginable—”

“He is.”

“—but that doesn’t change that he is your father. You also owe Miss Pauling an explanation. Whatever your own feelings, she expected to wed you. It is bad enough that she learned the truth from a newspaper. You cannot pretend she doesn’t exist.”

“She won’t have seen the announcement,” he insisted, pacing the room. “She buries herself at Paulus Grange, rarely seeing anyone. With Pauling ill, they have no callers at all.”

“Not even your father?”

He paused with one foot in the air. “Hillcrest is hardly a guest. He spends as much time at the Grange as he does at home. He already considers the place his.”

“And you expect him to say nothing?  He might rant at your insult, or he might calmly cancel the wedding, but he cannot ignore our marriage.”

“You don’t know him. He cares nothing for others. I doubt her situation will cross his mind – she is merely one of his pawns. Besides, he is so determined to win, that he might kill you so he can continue his scheme. I don’t want you hurt.”

She strode to the window and back. “I can look after myself, Rafe. A man as devoted to duty as Hillcrest won’t harm even an unwelcome guest.”

“Devoted to duty?”  He laughed mirthlessly. “Hillcrest demands duty of others but cares nothing for it himself. Do you know how cold he is?  When Mother contracted lung fever, he refused to summon a physician. She thrashed in agony for a week, calling repeatedly for me, but he allowed no one to comfort her. I didn’t even know she was ill until her death announcement appeared in the paper a full week after her burial.”

“My God.” All blood drained from her face. She had to grip a chair to remain on her feet.

“I learned later that he taunted her the entire week, claiming that I was too busy pursuing frivolity to visit a dying woman. He swore that I had denounced her as a failed wife and mother and had cut her from my life. She died with his lies in her ears. So don’t ever tell me that Hillcrest understands duty. I know better. The man is cold, calculating, and utterly selfish.”

Helen was at his side before she even realized she’d moved. No wonder he’d gone mad. Gripping his arms, she stared into the desolation and pain swirling through his eyes. “Don’t let hatred poison your heart, Rafe. It will devour the good until you become just like him. Do you want him to win this war you’ve been fighting?”

“No. But I won’t subject you to his malice. Nor will I enter his house again.”

“Then we will stay at an inn. But you must make peace with Alice. I cannot believe that
you
consider her a pawn.”

“She knows I—”

“What she knows is irrelevant. You owe her an explanation to her face. She is a real person with real feelings. It is not her fault that your father plotted against you. She is as much a victim as you and must already pay the price of being jilted.”

He flinched, confirming that he’d not looked beyond his own quarrel.

She nodded, gratified that he was capable of understanding. Whatever doubts remained about Rafe’s feelings, she could not allow another woman to suffer as she had suffered after Alex walked away. Betrayal was the ultimate weapon, for it left emotional destruction in its wake. And questions. Thousands of questions. How many nights had she cried because she didn’t know what she’d done to kill his love?  Might that same flaw drive Rafe away?

She stifled the old pain and focused on making him understand. “A man can recover from a jilt, Rafe, but a woman pays forever. It doesn’t matter if the betrothal was false,” she added, speaking over another protest. “The world believes you jilted her. Shunning her will make it worse. Everyone will assume she is a fallen woman. They will speculate about her liaisons – how many men did she entertain?  When?  Where?  Who?  Even why. They will whisk their children out of her path lest she corrupt them, and will drop her from their invitation lists. Every libertine for miles will sniff at her door, seeking his share of her favors. Only by showing your respect and demonstrating your support can you quash such talk.”

He clenched his fists. “Very well. We’ll go to Hillcrest. But you won’t enjoy it.”

“I didn’t ask to enjoy it.” It was clear that she wouldn’t. If Rafe was telling the truth, she would meet an abusive lord, an angry lord, and a hurt girl. None of them would welcome her. But only seeing them with Rafe would answer her questions. All she could do was pray she could live with the results. If Rafe had lied about Alice, Alex’s defection would seem benign. And if he was covering more than an abusive father, she might yet regret this marriage.

Rafe scrubbed his hands over his eyes, furious that he’d conceded the argument. It made him look weak. But what else could he have done?  She was right, damn her. “We need to tell Lady Alquist about our suspicions. Do you know where she is?”

“She was headed for the morning room when I left her.”

“I’m not looking forward to this.”

“Nor I, but she’s strong. We’ll face her together.”

* * * *

Helen’s back burned where Rafe’s hand steered her into the sunny morning room, reminding her of his incendiary kisses. But this was no time for lust.

“You look rested,” Rafe said when Lady Alquist looked up from her needlework.

“You don’t,” Lady Alquist replied teasingly.

Helen’s face again heated. She wished they were holding this meeting in the drawing room rather than this cheerful space. Formality would feel more appropriate.

But the subject could not be postponed. Joining Lady Alquist on the couch, she watched Rafe straighten a pair of vases, a clock, and two candlesticks on the mantel while searching for the least painful opening. “I’ve been sorting Alquist’s papers.”

Lady Alquist bit her lip. “Are they so disturbing?”

“In a way. He was more concerned about Helen than you implied.”

Lady Alquist relaxed. “True. We meant to visit Audley, as I mentioned last evening. Steven was always incorrigible, even as a child. The tales Alquist told of those days—”  She shook herself thoroughly. “It is best to let past cruelties die. Suffice it to say that we feared Steven’s hatred of Arthur would extend to Arthur’s family.”

“It does,” confirmed Helen. “Steven is determined to own everything Father had, regardless of value. He will let nothing stand in his way.”

Rafe gestured her to silence. “Alquist demanded an audit, then hired a runner to investigate Steven and Dudley.”

“I didn’t know about the runner.” Lady Alquist frowned. “But he was very uneasy that last week. He even complained about eyes boring into his back, as if some malevolent force was watching him. If Steven had been in town – but he wasn’t, and Alquist never saw anyone.”

“Perhaps he was right,” said Helen, squeezing Lady Alquist’s hand.
Eyes boring into his back
. Rafe’s theories seemed less absurd than before. “Rafe believes the accident was odd. He makes a strong case that it was staged to cover a blow to the head.”

“You mean murder?”  Lady Alquist’s voice squeaked as the color drained from her face.

“Perhaps,” said Rafe.

“B-but who?  Steven?”

“We don’t yet know.”

A tear slid down Lady Alquist’s cheek. “I couldn’t believe he had been careless. It wasn’t like him.” She swiped her handkerchief across her eyes. “Find the truth, Rafe. I must know.”

“I’ll do everything possible, though we may never—”

“I have to know.” Her voice cracked. Excusing herself, she fled.

“It may take more than one runner,” murmured Helen, shaken.

“We’ll hire them all if we have to,” Rafe choked. “She shouldn’t have to go through this. An accident is hard enough to accept….”

He was speaking of himself as much as of Lady Alquist. Rising, Helen gathered him into her arms. “We’ll find out what happened, Rafe. Grieve for him, but don’t let anger blind you.”

“I thought I’d accepted it.” He pulled her closer, for comfort rather than passion. “But the pain on her face…”

And his, though she didn’t say it. Instead, she held him, absorbing his tremors as he fought to hide the desolation wracking his soul. It would have been less disturbing had he broken down and cried. The control that could stave off such deep-seated grief confirmed how wretched his childhood must have been.

* * * *

Helen was gratified when Rafe carried his port to the drawing room after dinner. Lady Alquist had not eaten with them, and Helen hadn’t wanted to spend the evening alone. Passing much of the afternoon in a dark room to rest her head had given her too much time to brood – about Steven, about Rafe, even about Alex, who had again invaded her dreams. She must find a way to eradicate him. Surely Rafe’s passion should have done so by now, for he’d taken her far beyond anything Alex had done. Or did shielding her heart keep Alex close?

She frowned.

“Lady Alquist will be fine,” Rafe assured her, sipping as he stared into the fire. “But she’s been through a lot these past weeks.”

“I know. Adjusting to sudden change is always difficult. I castigated Fate for months after Mother’s apoplexy. If I’d learned that someone had deliberately struck her down, I’m not sure I could have managed.”

“You would have.”

She raised her brows.

“You’re strong. How else did you escape Steven?”

“I had no choice.”

“Of course you did – to go or to stay. Many ladies would have stayed and made the best of things.”

“Why?”  His assertion startled her, for she had never considered any alternative but escape.

“Because they have been taught since birth that men are the only gender capable of rational thought. Because they prize conformity and reject contention. Because fleeing into a rough part of town would expose them to terrifying dangers. But Lady Alquist is much like you. Murder is a shock, but she will rally by morning.” His voice cracked.

“Don’t think about it, Rafe. Alquist would not welcome your pain. He would likely suggest that you concentrate on other things for a time. It will clear your mind. So tell me more about your mother. You mentioned that you were close.”

He stiffened, but finally inhaled deeply and spoke. “She protected me from Hillcrest’s temper, though doing so deflected his ire to her.”

“Was he violent?”  She needed to know what to expect.

“No. He can be fearsome when angry, but he never struck anyone, even Mother.” Rafe joined her on the couch, stretching his legs out before him. “His tongue can blister ice, though. I did what I could to protect her, but it was never enough.”

“Hardly a surprise,” she murmured, stroking his hand. It turned, clasping hers in his powerful grip. “No child can successfully counter a determined adult.”

He raised his brows. “I never thought of it in those terms.”

“Of course not. She probably considered you her savior, welcoming your efforts. But such support cannot confer invincibility. How old were you when you first stood up for her?”

“I don’t recall. Young, though. I’d found her in tears in the folly – she often spent afternoons there to escape Hillcrest.”

“What happened?”

“He’d again denied her to a caller – Lady Pauling that day.” He frowned. “Lady Pauling died when I was eight, so I suppose I was five or six at the time. But such petty cruelty infuriated me even then. It was Mother’s right to make and receive calls. And how could he object to Lady Pauling when Lord Pauling was his closest friend?  It was absurd!”