CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Hello, Henley. Or should I call you Middlebury now?”
Simon smiled at Hayden Henley, but he didn’t smile back.
The man was positively taciturn, and he grunted a reply that might have meant anything. Simon decided to disregard his dour mood and use his Christian name. In a convoluted way, they were almost family. Why be strangers?
By all accounts, it had been a trying day for him. He’d pummeled his worthless cousin. He’d discovered his sister was marrying his greatest enemy. He was probably entitled to be a grouch.
Simon was seated at a patio table on the verandah at the rear of the house. When Henley had strutted outside, he hadn’t realized Simon was present and enjoying the view.
Evening had arrived, and the sky was a beautiful shade of purple, the trees in the park especially green. Henley was leaned against the balustrade, staring out at the park too and ignoring Simon when he didn’t feel like being ignored.
“Would you care to join me?” he asked. “I’ve pilfered a bottle of your best brandy, and I have an extra glass.”
Henley glared at Simon as if Simon were a buzzing gnat, then he trudged over and sat down. Simon pulled the stopper from the decanter and poured some brandy for Henley, then he refilled his own glass. For a few minutes, they dawdled, not chatting, not acknowledging one another.
“Helen thought I should talk to you,” Simon said after a bit, figuring he wouldn’t have many chances to pester the man on any topic.
“She would think that.” Henley snorted with disgust. “All she does is talk. Are you the same?”
“Oh, yes, I’m definitely a talker. I wouldn’t have been much of a preacher if I hadn’t been.”
“From what I hear, you’re not much of a preacher.”
Simon shrugged. “I have my good days and my bad. Like anyone. As far as I’m aware, I’ve never had complaints about my ministerial skills. It’s my personal failings that get me into trouble.”
“Are you planning to tarry in my home forever? How much brandy should I stock?”
“I’ll stay for as long as you’ll let me, which I hope will be quite awhile. I’m a very pleasant fellow, and you’re particularly fond of my daughter. I can’t leave when she’s in residence. I’m not sure she’d be safe alone with you.”
“Are you about to demand a wedding?”
“No,” Simon scoffed, “but I believe you should mind your manners around her. Or in your time away, have you forgotten the importance of manners? Have you become a complete cad?”
Henley downed his liquor, then held out his glass for Simon to replenish it. He gulped that down too.
Simon couldn’t help remarking, “You seem distressed, Hayden. Would you like to discuss what’s vexing you?”
Henley scowled ferociously. “Be silent, Vicar Barnes. Don’t annoy me. I’d like to wallow in the peace and quiet.”
“It must have been difficult seeing your cousin Jasper.”
“You have no idea.”
“I can’t imagine what it must have been like to return to this mess. Jasper and Desdemona were such ungrateful sluggards, and the whole place is in such an embarrassing state of disrepair. While you were away, you must have had such pretty pictures in your head of how it previously was. It can’t have been easy to witness its true condition.”
“Vicar Barnes! Shut up!”
“All right, I will. As you said, we should enjoy the peace and quiet. And it’s Pastor Barnes. I’ve been ordered not to refer to myself as a vicar.”
“Are you bothered by the edict?”
“Yes. Wouldn’t it bother you? I devoted my life to the church, and then my position was yanked away. It was hard to accept.”
“A man is supposed to pay for his sins though. Isn’t this how you’re paying for yours? You’re defrocked and disgraced, because you’re an unrepentant philanderer. What did you expect would occur?”
Simon tsked with irritation. “You don’t have to rub it in.”
“Do you ever wish you hadn’t misbehaved?”
“Well, I hate how my problems have impacted my daughters, but I always adored the women I was counseling. They were unhappy with their lives and marriages. I tried my best to help them muddle through.”
“Is that what they call a hearty tumble these days? Counseling?”
“Don’t be snotty, Hayden. It doesn’t become you.”
“What happened on Tenerife? Why weren’t you there to meet your daughters?”
“Oh, that.” He waved a dismissive hand, loathe to dive in to the details, but Henley wasn’t the sort to be put off. “Shortly after I debarked, I ran into an acquaintance from England who was cognizant of my history. He had a quick parley with the local constabulary.”
“You were kicked out?”
“Basically, yes. I wrote to Helen immediately and told her not to come, but I guess she didn’t receive my letter.”
“It’s lucky I stumbled on her then.”
“Yes, very lucky. I’m incredibly grateful for all your assistance.”
Simon was British in every sense of the word. He had the highest respect for members of the peerage, and he understood how a connection to a great man could bring many boons.
Becky had explained how smitten Henley was with Helen, and Simon wouldn’t discount such a fortunate circumstance. He intended to nurture it for all he was worth.
“What’s your plan for your daughters, Pastor Barnes?” Henley asked. “Have you one?”
“We’ll remain here. Becky and I will aid Helen as she takes care of you. She’s been a terrific housekeeper, don’t you agree?”
“She’s been all right.”
Helen was currently working for Henley, but Simon had seen the besotted idiot kissing her in the library. If Henley continued to fan the flames of their attraction, there would be a swift wedding in his future. He merely had to realize how much he loved Helen and that she would be the perfect wife for him.
While Simon was typically British and believed in the old adage that like bonded with like, that a peer would select a bride from his own social class, he was also the world’s biggest romantic. Helen should stand by Henley’s side to deliver her kind and devoted brand of patience.
Simon had been a blessed beneficiary of her fortitude and serenity, and with Henley rampaging and being so out of control, Helen would provide exactly what he required.
Simon wasn’t going anywhere. Neither was Helen.
“If you’re weary of us already, she and I can leave.” Simon lied, “We have plenty of relatives who would give us shelter.”
“Helen isn’t leaving. I need her here.”
“Of course you do, and we’re glad to stay.”
“Just so you don’t instigate any mischief.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I’m serious, Pastor Barnes. If you so much as glance at a neighbor lady, I’ll have you tarred and feathered and dragged out of town behind a horse.”
“My goodness, Hayden. It’s obvious you’ve heard horrendous stories about me, but I’m not the cad you deem me to be.”
“Sure you’re not.”
“You’re a tad angry this evening,” he cautiously stated.
“You are a master of perception.”
“Helen tells me you’re riding off in the morning to commit murder.”
“Maybe Helen should mind her own business.”
“You must hate Alexander Wallace to the marrow of your bones. I would if I were you.”
“Shut up, Pastor Barnes! You’re not my confessor, and I won’t discuss this with you.”
“I can be as silent as the next man.” He sipped his drink, watching Henley out of the corner of his eye. He was so troubled! Nonchalantly, Simon mused, “I’m certain you aren’t aware of it, but I’m acquainted with the Wallace family.”
“Bully for you, but I thought you said you knew how to be silent.”
“I followed the whole deplorable situation after the duel. It was so riveting.”
Henley flashed a scathing glare. “Is there some reason you suppose I would be interested?”
“It’s just that Helen mentioned you didn’t feel Mr. Wallace had suffered any punishment, that all of it had fallen on you.”
“Again, Pastor, maybe Helen should mind her own business.”
“Mr. Wallace actually suffered quite a lot of punishment.”
“Really?” Henley snidely inquired.
“Yes, really. He was prosecuted, then jailed for a year. After he was released, he was banished from England for five years.”
“Banished to where?”
“I’m not positive of the terms, but he had to flee the country, and the exile distressed him very much. He wandered through Africa and the Orient. He divorced that tart, Eugenia, who was his wife, so he’s had to live with that stigma. Because of it, he’s been shunned by decent people ever since. Oh, and he had to pay a huge fine that nearly cost him Wallace Downs. His lawyer negotiated over the amount and was barely able to save it from the auction block.”
Henley froze for an eternity, then his shoulders drooped. “I didn’t know any of that.”
“You had your own problems at the time, and with you on your way to Italy—and at death’s door—I wouldn’t expect you to have been apprised. He might not be the ogre you recall. Weren’t you all very young when it occurred?”
“Too young,” Henley muttered.
“If you kill him, what would your sister’s opinion be? She hasn’t seen you in a decade. Is your first act upon your return to be the murder of her fiancé?”
“My sister is very smart. If she’s about to wed him, she’s either ignorant of his history with regard to me or he’s put her under a wicked spell.”
“She’s a bewitched princess?”
“Something like that.”
“What if she’s happy? What if she’s in love with him?”
“It doesn’t matter. She can’t marry him. I’m back and I’m head of the family now. I won’t permit it.”
“You won’t.”
“No.”
“You think you can barge in and order her about?”
“Yes, I absolutely think that.”
“You don’t believe she should have a say?”
“Not if her choice is that bastard.” At spewing the crude epithet, Henley’s cheeks flushed. “Beggin’ your pardon, Pastor Barnes.”
“I’ve heard worse.”
“We’re done talking about this,” Henley firmly stated.
“Before we’re completely through, might I offer a word of advice from an older, wiser man?”
“No, you may not, and as to older, what are you? Ten years older than me? Fifteen? There’s not much of an age difference that would make you an elder I should heed. As to wiser, don’t make me laugh. A sinner with your dubious past shouldn’t preach.”
“Who’s preaching? I simply point out that you can’t boss a woman. Men constantly attempt it, but it never works. If you wish for your sister to relent over Mr. Wallace, you’ll have to persuade her. Not command her.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” Henley sarcastically replied.
“Why don’t you travel to Wallace Downs tomorrow—but not to create havoc?”
Henley scoffed with derision. “How should I—in your infinite wisdom—arrive then?”
“How about in a quiet, unexceptional manner? Don’t bluster in. Sneak in and investigate the situation. Snoop in the neighborhood. Drink an ale or two in the local tavern. Ask some questions. Find out why your sister is there. Find out why she picked him. Then reflect on what it is you really want. It’s been a whole decade since the duel, and you’re not the hot-headed boy you were back then.”
“I’m definitely not,” Henley concurred.
“Are you still as furious with Mr. Wallace as you assume yourself to be? If you killed him, if you hurt your sister so deeply, would you feel any better? Would it change the past? Would it fix what’s wrong? Would you be any less angry at the world than you are right now?”
“I’m not angry at the world,” Henley claimed.
“Aren’t you?”
Henley’s hand was wrapped around his glass, and Simon glanced at his knuckles that were cut and swollen from his punching Jasper so hard. Henley saw him looking, and he put the glass down and spread out his fingers to study them. He chuckled with grim amusement.
“You’re a fascinating man, Pastor Barnes,” he said.
“Everyone has always thought so.”
“I don’t imply you’re fascinating in a good way, and as with your daughter, perhaps you should mind your own business.”
He downed his remaining brandy, then he pushed back his chair and stood. He marched down the verandah stairs into the overgrown, weedy park that no gardener had tended in ages.
“Are you still going to murder Mr. Wallace?” Simon called to him. “Or have I managed to dissuade you?”
Henley stopped and peered at Simon over his shoulder. “I haven’t decided.”
“If you slay him, it will upset Helen.”
“This is not an issue that involves Helen at all. Why would her opinion matter to me?”
“Maybe it doesn’t, but I could never bear to hurt her. How about you?” Henley didn’t respond, and Simon suggested, “Let’s chat again once you’re back.”
“I’ll be on pins and needles until then.”
“If you’re lucky, you might discover there’s a huge surprise waiting for you at Wallace Downs.”
“You mean besides my sister marrying my mortal enemy?”
“Yes, besides that. I’m betting it will alter your view of everything. We can discuss it when you return.”
“Pastor Barnes, you’re laboring under the deluded impression that you are some sort of moral compass for me.”
“I’ve never been adept at much else. Why shouldn’t I try to ease some of your woe?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I have no woe.”
He kept on, and Simon let him go.
He watched Henley wander in the tall grass as the shadows lengthened, as the sky darkened. He appeared tormented and lost, and Simon nearly went in the house to fetch Helen and send her out to soothe him.
She had a fine way with a distraught person, and Henley was more distraught than anyone Simon had met in a very long while.
Apparently, he didn’t realize he had twin daughters. Why hadn’t he been told? It wasn’t the type of news that should have been concealed. When he’d been in Italy with his parents, hadn’t they been apprised that Eugenia Wallace birthed twins?
Simon found that prospect hard to believe. It was such juicy gossip. Wouldn’t Lord and Lady Middlebury have been informed? People were cruel about scandals and would gleefully share untenable rumors with a venomous relish. Who could resist writing that letter?
Last Simon had heard, the girls were at Wallace Downs, and Mr. Wallace was raising them. How would Hayden Henley deal with that shocking development? If he was disturbed now, what would his condition be after the truth was revealed?
Simon would listen and observe and be ready to counsel and advise when the lonely, troubled oaf staggered home.
* * * *
Becky came out onto the verandah and stumbled on her father who was seated at a patio table and staring out at the park. He looked contented and at ease, but then, he always looked contented and at ease.
He noticed her approaching, and he smiled and waved her over. She pulled out a chair and sat down.
“You’ve caught me drinking liquor,” he said, and he laughed. “Have I ruined myself in your eyes?”
“It would take more than liquor to change my opinion of you.”
“Good. Then you won’t mind if I have a bit more, will you?”
“No, I don’t mind. Why are you out here all by yourself?”
“There aren’t exactly scores of guests to chat with inside. This place feels deserted all of a sudden.”
“It is very quiet.”
“Actually, I was just talking to his grand self.”
“With Nine Lives?” She shook her head at her use of his old name. She couldn’t envision him as anyone else. “You mean Lord Henley? Or is it Lord Middlebury? What are we to call him?”
“I haven’t figured it out, but he’s out in the garden.”
Simon pointed to where she could see him in the fading light.
“What’s he doing?”
“He’s walking and pondering.”
“About what?”
“About whether he should murder his sister’s fiancé tomorrow.”
“You and Helen were whispering about it, but I didn’t think you were serious.”
“He and the man have been involved in a painful feud that’s festered forever, and he’s just learned his sister is marrying the fellow. It’s like a plot in a lurid novel. Or perhaps it’s more like a philosophical question that might be posed in a university class. Where does anger lead? Where does pride come into it? How can you convince yourself to let it go?”
“Don’t sermonize, Simon. You know I don’t like it.”
“No, you never did. Even when you were little.”
She gestured to the brandy. “May I taste it?”
“How old are you? Sixteen?”
“Yes.”
“I suppose a sip would be all right. But just a sip.”
He poured a dash into the glass Henley had used. She sniffed it, then sampled it, wrinkling her nose at the strong aroma and tang.
They peered out at Henley where he was strolling in the garden.
“He’s very handsome, isn’t he?” her father said. “And rich too.”
“Yes.”
“He should marry Helen.”
“I already told you I think so too. He’s so fond of her, but she doesn’t believe it could ever occur.”
“We’ll simply have to persuade her. Or persuade him so he recognizes that he can’t live without her.”
“You’re not a miracle worker.”
“Sometimes I have been,” he boasted. “It depends on the size of the miracle that’s required. It would be advantageous for us if we could bring them together. You and I would both be taken care of through matrimony. Otherwise, I can’t predict what will become of us. I’m not in much of a position to help you or support you.”
“Whose fault is that?” The snide remark slipped out before she could bite it down.
A different father, a more normal father, might have scolded her or ordered her not to be impertinent. But he wasn’t a normal father, and he’d never scolded his daughters. Not ever.
“Our situation is entirely my fault,” he blithely said. “I admit it. I could never hold on to what I had.” He pulled his gaze from Henley and focused it on her. “If I had the means to bestow any gift in the world, what would you choose?”
It was easy to answer. “I’d like to wed a rich, dashing husband.”
“Of course you would, and your response makes me feel terrible. I wish I could find that marvelous swain for you.”
She glanced out at Lord Henley, and Will had joined him. Their heads were pressed close, and Will was pointing toward the stables. They walked off, and she watched them until they vanished around the corner.
While she was watching them, her father was watching her.
“That Will Stone,” her father said, “he’s very handsome too. Is he rich?”
“He claims his father is, so I guess he will be too eventually.”
“How is his father rich? It must be from ill-gotten gains accumulated while sailing with disreputable characters.”
“Probably, but Will insists they have an elevated lineage too, so he has a relative who furnishes the grounds to be a snob.”
“Is he a snob? The son of a pirate hasn’t much reason to put on airs, despite who he lists as kin.”
“It’s what I told him.”
“Good for you.” Her father patted her knee. “Did his arrogance hurt your feelings?”
“Only for a few minutes. On Tenerife, he pretended to be sweet on me, then his father advised him that he could do much better, so he started being a pompous ass. After that, I never gave him the time of day.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I raised you to be proud. Don’t ever allow a petty boy to lower your esteem.”
“An idiot like Will Stone never could.”
In reality, she was still smarting from his denigration, and he seemed sorry. Since he’d shown up at Middlebury, he constantly tried to chat with her and act as if they were friends, but she wasn’t interested. She would never forgive him for the insults he’d hurled.
“You’re too young to wed, Becky,” her father said.
“Maybe.”
“I’ve counseled many women who were shackled as girls, much before they were ready for the burdens a bride has to bear.”
“If I had a husband though, I’d have a home again. I’d be safe.”
Her father nodded. “You might be—if you make a good choice. But if you make a bad choice, you might be in more danger than ever. When you’re standing at the altar with your groom, you can’t be certain how he will turn out. He might be the best husband ever or he might be the worst.”
“What was Mother’s view of you?” she asked.
“She always thought I was wonderful.”
Becky scoffed. “I bet.”
Her father grinned his famous grin, the one that had females lining up to confide their personal troubles. “Your mother loved me dearly, poor wife that she was. Her fondness never wavered—no matter the sins I committed.”
“Would we have experienced all these difficulties if she were still alive?”
“Absolutely not. She was a strict angel who kept my nastiest impulses under control.”
“So Helen takes after her, and I take after you.”
“You’ve summed it up splendidly, which is why you and I will invest some effort in pushing Helen and Hayden to wed. If he would just acknowledge his affection and marry her, their union would provide enormous boons for you and me.”
“I hope so.”
“If we were to become Hayden’s in-laws, imagine the beaux you might meet in the future. Why, with how he dotes on her, she’d probably be able to persuade him to offer you a dowry. You wouldn’t have to grovel to vain oafs like Will Stone.”
“You’re a great dreamer, Simon. I like that about you, but it’s exhausting.”
“Why shouldn’t I dream? How can it hurt? What if they come true?”
“There’s one problem with your scheme. Two problems actually.”
“What are they?”
“First of all, Lord Henley has told Helen repeatedly that he would never marry her, because she’s too far beneath him. And second of all, Helen agrees that he shouldn’t pick her. He’s determined to find a princess, and she feels he deserves one.”
Simon snorted derisively. “What would Hayden do with a princess?”
“The same thing any husband would, I expect.”
“Well, in my humble opinion, he and Helen would be perfect together. He has a dire past that will always haunt him, so he will need the sort of tender care Helen is so adept at imparting.”
“How will we convince him it’s what he needs?”
“I doubt it will require much convincing. He’s riding to Wallace Downs tomorrow to visit his sister and her betrothed.”
“Her betrothed is his old enemy?”
“Yes, and he’s going to bump into two huge surprises while he’s there. It should lower his defenses. We’ll see what he thinks about Helen when he returns.”
Becky scowled at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Hayden doesn’t know what he wants.”
“What man does?”
“He’s confused about his path, but you and I already devised the correct ending for him. It’s Helen. We’ll make sure he figures it out too—and we’ll take whatever action is necessary to bring it about.