Loving Helen (30 page)

Oh, Samuel.
All of her dreams and hopes seemed swept away in the swift current that was Crayton’s hunt.

Samuel leaned back to look at her but still kept hold of her shoulders. “Listen to me, Helen,” he said, somewhat sternly. “You are safe. My men will alert us if Crayton draws near.”

When,
Helen thought.
Not if.

“It is probable that his interest will cool somewhat when he receives the anonymous payment, sent with a simple note, telling him you are married to another.” There was nothing romantic in Samuel’s tone or what he was suggesting.

Married.
The word she had longed to hear, and now it terrified her.

“The law will be on our side, then, with you as my wife, and with the crown’s good favor Crayton has worked to gain, he would be foolish to go after any of us.”

“You speak as if everything has already been settled.” Helen pulled away from him and folded her arms once more.

“You are right, of course,” Samuel said, sounding and looking at once repentant, as he reached a hand out to her, which she declined to accept.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I knew we would have little time to speak this morning, and I have felt burdened with this knowledge all week. I did not like knowing you were here, and unaware. And I suppose I still have your brother’s practicalities in mind.”

“You have discussed all of this with Christopher?” Helen felt stung, imagining them speaking of her.
Of what to do with me, is more like.

“I have,” Samuel admitted.

“And he agrees that the best thing to do to ensure
my
safety is for you to marry me and thereby put
yourself
and Beth
in danger?” Helen stared at him, waiting for his answer.

“We have Christopher’s blessing, if that is what you are asking.”

She was not surprised. This entire solution seemed so like Christopher. “Indeed. I am surprised he did not suggest it to begin with.”

Samuel did not offer a response to this; neither did he hide the flash of guilt that crossed his face.

“Christopher
did
suggest that you marry me,” Helen said, reeling backward as if she had been struck. At the moment she was not certain which feeling was worse — her fear of Crayton and her worry for Samuel and Beth, or the hurt and disappointment from realizing Samuel’s feelings were not of the depth she had imagined.

“He only spoke first what I had been contemplating for some time.” Samuel stepped close again. He reached out, touching her face. “How the decision was arrived at does not matter so much as that we are able to marry, and quickly. I want to know you are mine and as much out of harm’s way as possible.”

“While I shall know that our marriage has brought trouble to your doorstep?” Helen turned away from his touch. “I cannot marry you, Samuel,” she said miserably. “If the man has murdered my father as you believe, what is to stop him from pursuing you? I cannot put you and Beth in such danger.”

“So you intend to offer yourself up to him instead?” Samuel shook his head as if disbelieving. “Or do you plan a life of solitary hiding? Or maybe you wish to travel abroad with Christopher.”

“Abroad —”
I should have known he would want to do something rash like that.
But now was not the time to worry about Christopher. She would think on that later.

“Marry me, Helen, and let me take care of you,” Samuel pled, his voice softer.

It was not the proposal she had hoped to hear. But even through her keen disappointment she berated herself for feeling hurt.
A trite matter considering our far-more-serious problem.
But it seemed she could not forget Samuel’s proposal to Grace, how he had knelt on bended knee and proclaimed he would spend the rest of his life in the pursuit of her happiness.
That is what I wish, not to have him bound to paying for my safety — and his and Beth’s — for the rest of his life.

A joyous shout came from the meadow below, and Helen and Samuel watched Lord Sutherland gather Grace in his arms and swing her around. Grace’s gentle laughter echoed across the valley, and a moment later the couple stopped turning about and kissed.

A well of sorrow pushed its way through Helen’s numbness to the surface, and tears sprang to her eyes.
Lord Sutherland is not marrying Grace to protect her. He adores her.

“Helen?” Samuel asked, calling her from her troubled thoughts. She looked at him and found his expression as tender as it had been that evening at the gazebo.
And so many other occasions.
“I promise Crayton will not hurt us. Not any of us. I’ll hire as many guards as necessary. Nicholas will want to be involved too. We will find a way to be rid of Crayton and to live undisturbed. You will be safe.”

“Safe or happy?” Helen said, hating herself for the cutting edge to her voice. “They are not synonymous.”
Love me, Samuel. It is more than feeling compelled to offer your protection.

“Can it not be both?” Samuel asked, sounding hurt.

Yes
, she wanted to answer, though her heart still ached. She loved him enough that she felt willing to accept whatever affection he could offer. But she could not forget the night Christopher had first suggested they pretend engagement and Samuel had been so adamant that nothing be done that would hurt Beth.

Marrying him could hurt them both.

“I am sorry,” Helen whispered.
I have never been more sorry in my life.
The exact words Grace had used when she rejected him. “But I cannot marry you.”

Helen had been inside the small chapel only once before, just a few days earlier for Sunday services. Today the room looked remarkably different, and a quick glance at the front of the chapel explained why. Lady Sutherland was practically running to and fro, instructing a small army of servants, who were busy placing flowers and ribbon, adorning the simple church in finery, the likes of which it had probably never seen and never would again. It was a wonder that the dowager had agreed to her son being married in such a place at all.

But somehow she had, and here they were, Helen and Grace, standing in a side room at the back of the chapel, dressed in the gowns Grandfather had bought them shortly before his death. Grace looked splendid in hers, the pearls at her neck matching the ivory gown perfectly.

Helen did not own pearls but loved the ruby comb and necklace Grandfather had given her every bit as much. They had been locked safely away, so Father might not gain access to them, until their shortened visit to London, when Christopher had retrieved them from the bank box, believing that she needed a bolster of courage after the incident with Sir Crayton.

It did seem that whenever she wore them, she felt that courage. The night of the Ellises’ country ball, she had worn the rubies, and she had not been at all frightened the entire evening, though she had danced with several men she had not previously met. Now, as she stood at the brink of Grace’s happiness and her own uncertain future, Helen recalled Grandfather’s words once more, desperate for their calm reassurance.

There is magic in the ruby that few know of. Outwardly, it is remarkable, a stunning blood-red stone and one of the hardest gems, able to withstand great pressure, much as you have, my dear Helen. But it is the inner fire of the ruby that allows this protection and where its real value lies. Seen only by a few who pause to examine it closely, the ruby’s center emits a light of its own, bringing much joy and happiness to those who take time to appreciate its value. You have that inner fire. It burns strong. Use it wisely. Take courage from it.

I
am
strong — strong enough to do this.
This, being to stand beside Grace, watch her speak vows and then embark on a life of happiness.
While
I am about to embark on —

“Excuse us a moment, Grace,” Christopher said as he appeared in the doorway. He looked sharp in his suit as he strode forward, taking Helen’s arm and leading her outside.

Grace looked after them curiously as Helen shrugged.
Who knows what Christopher is about now?
She had a few words for him after this was all over, but she dared not start on those now, fearing her emotions would overwhelm her and ruin Grace’s day.

He led them past the open church doors and down the steps. Helen squinted against the sun — she’d taken off her cloak and bonnet already but could not muster enough emotion to care that she was outside without either. Instead she tried to feel grateful that Grace was to be married on such a beautiful day. Crocuses pushed through the ground, revealing bursts of color all around the small stone building, and the air felt especially spring-like, given that it was only the last day of February.

“You might try to appear happy,” Christopher started in, scolding her. “What will Samuel think if he sees you looking as if you’re about to cry?”

“I don’t suppose he will think anything,” Helen said. “And if you are scolding people for appearing dour, perhaps you ought to speak with Samuel as well. He has been in quite a serious mood all morning.”

“Why do you suppose that is?” Christopher asked, sounding exasperated as he ran his fingers through his hair, making a mess of it.

“I don’t know,” Helen lied.
I don’t wish to discuss it with you.
“Perhaps he feels as I do — somewhat envious of their happiness.”

“There is no need for you to
be
envious.” Christopher glanced heavenward. “Would that you were here, Grandfather, to shake some sense into my sisters. At times like these, I fear what you’ve asked of me is too much.”

“What on earth are you talking about?” Helen reached out, placing her hand on Christopher’s forehead. “Are you ill? Have you a fever?” First Samuel spoke to his deceased wife, and now Christopher was speaking to Grandfather? Did all the men she knew speak to the dead?

“I promised that I would see you and Grace happily wed and that I would protect you from Father and any other man who would do you harm. You’ve no idea the task it has been.”

“Well, I am sorry,” Helen said, feeling anything but. She placed her hands on her hips. “You needn’t worry over taking care of me or finding me a husband to keep me safe. I am quite capable of looking out for myself.”

“Then do it!” Christopher said, loudly enough that those inside likely heard. More quietly, he added, “Open your eyes, and quit hiding behind your fear. Samuel loves you. He will still marry you, but now
you
will have to ask.”

“
I
will —” She broke off, giving a harsh laugh. “I am not Beth. I cannot simply ask a man to dance — or to marry me.”
Especially when it would affect his life so terribly.

“Then you should have said yes when he asked you,” Christopher said.

Helen narrowed her eyes at him. “No, I should not have. I cannot bring Samuel — and his daughter — into our situation. It will be bad enough worrying for my safety and yours. I cannot comprehend worrying for them as well. Not to mention that it was
your
idea he marry me.” Helen turned away with a flounce of curls.

“Comprehend this, dear sister,” Christopher said, taking her arm and turning her around to face him once more. “Samuel is
already
part of this situation, and by virtue of that, so is Beth. From the moment Crayton saw us at the theatre, they became involved.”

“It doesn’t have to stay that way,” Helen argued.

“You’re right,” Christopher said. “But he wants it to. He loves you so much that he’s ready to risk his life for you. But you wouldn’t let him get that far. You crushed his heart the minute he offered it.”

“It wasn’t an offer —”
Not the one I hoped for.
“I do not want him marrying me to protect me. I want his feelings to be real, too.”

“They
are,
” Christopher insisted. “He’s shown it at least a dozen times that I have seen. I’ve never known a man more besotted with a woman, save perhaps Lord Sutherland over Grace.”

“You
asked
us to behave as if we were in love,” Helen reminded him. “And Samuel has done so remarkably well.”

“I asked you,” Christopher said, “not only to help Grace and Lord Sutherland reunite, but so you and Samuel might realize your feelings for each other. I assure you, his are no more pretend than yours.”

“Then why has he not told me he loves me?” Helen asked, wanting to believe but still fearing Christopher was wrong, that Samuel had somehow been coerced into this entire situation.

“Consider this,” Christopher said. “Samuel has known the loss of his wife, and he has known the sting of rejection from Grace. And this morning he has heard nothing but frustration and resentment from you, simply because of his efforts to keep you safe. Might it not be fair for you to declare your love to him first? And if you do not — today —” Christopher forged on without allowing her a chance to speak — “you may lose him, and his precious Beth, forever. They will go home, and you will be here alone. Is that what you want?”

Helen turned away, brushing at the tears suddenly spilling from her eyes. “If your intention in talking to me was for me to appear cheerful, you have failed miserably.”