CHAPTER NINETEEN
Hayden had been riding for most of the day, touring his land and assessing the decrepit situation. Most of the tenant farmers had left, and their houses were falling into disrepair. The fields were fallow, the orchards not producing any fruit, the herds decimated and practically nonexistent.
One good piece of news was that Jasper wasn’t a hunter, so the woods were full of deer and other animals. They wouldn’t starve over the winter, but still, it was shocking how much damage an incompetent manager could inflict in a short decade.
The swath of Jasper’s destruction was infuriating, and it would be a monumental task to repair all that was broken. But…he didn’t have anything else to do.
It was his property, his estate, his home. He would make it perfect again.
Simon was to have headed out earlier that morning for Wallace Downs. Perhaps—that very moment—he was with Abigail. Hayden had told Simon to bring her back with him, his daughters too, so hopefully, his sister was about to arrive. She’d know where Catherine and Sarah were living, and soon, they would all be together.
He trotted into the yard and dismounted, tossing his reins to Tom Stone. Robert’s sons were hard workers, and they were quickly getting the stables in a suitable condition.
“Where is your father?” he asked.
“He’s over in the manor. Miss Barnes is expecting an important visitor, and she had to tell him about it.”
“Why would she want that? Is it someone from his past?”
“I don’t think so. She was just anxious to inform him.”
“I’ll see what’s happening. Maybe I can handle it for her.”
Hayden stomped off, having to tamp down a ripple of irritation.
If Helen needed assistance, she should talk to Hayden. Not Robert. He was incredibly irked, and his reaction was all out of proportion to what had occurred. Was he jealous of Robert? No. He was simply very possessive of her and couldn’t bear to share her with any man—not even Robert.
He’d stupidly and recklessly immersed himself in her life in ways he’d never intended, and she was a complication he hadn’t sought or anticipated. He was more attracted to her than he should be, and it had led him straight into her bedchamber, which was the one place in the world where he shouldn’t have been.
He’d fornicated with her! He couldn’t believe he’d behaved so negligently, and he was still trying to understand his conduct. He’d been so distressed over finding out about his daughters, and Helen was like a haven, a refuge, where he could hide out and be safe. When he was around her, he felt better and less alone, but it didn’t explain why he’d proceeded to disaster.
She wasn’t a doxy, so she’d assume she would receive the appropriate ending. She was probably already planning their wedding, but he wouldn’t marry her. It would never transpire. Despite how horridly he’d acted, despite how exciting the notion sounded, he wouldn’t.
He had to arrange for her, her father, and sister to leave Middlebury. He was certain—if he wasn’t with her so often—his affection would wane, but he couldn’t take the necessary steps to implement her departure. The prospect was terribly upsetting, but each passing minute—where she was present and underfoot—became more untenable.
What should be done with her? He couldn’t abandon her to her own devices. He was drawn to her like a magnet to metal, and in light of their history, it seemed as if the Barnes family was kin he’d adopted, and there was no viable method to be rid of them.
He was so distracted by his thoughts of her that—at first—when a female called to him, he didn’t pay attention.
“Hayden!”
The summons came from some distance away, and he was walking to the rear door of the manor. He kept on, barely noticing. He was in an isolated spot between the house and the barns, and so far, he’d only hired a few servants. Who could be lurking?
When he was hailed again, he halted and whirled around.
“Hayden Henley!”
A woman strolled out from the corner of a shed. She was short and plump, forty or so. Though it was a warm summer day, she was swaddled in a heavy black cloak and hat, the veil pulled down to obscure her features.
“Yes, I’m Hayden Henley. May I help you?”
She marched over, bold as brass, halting when she was about ten feet away.
“Do you know who I am?” she demanded.
“No.”
“I don’t look familiar?”
“No, sorry.”
She scoffed. “It’s typical that you wouldn’t recognize me. You always were a pompous ass. Nevertheless, I definitely recognize you.”
“How nice,” he mumbled.
“I was sure you had to be an imposter, but it appears you’ve risen from the dead.”
“I guess you could describe it that way.” He wondered if the woman wasn’t a tad deranged, and he wasn’t about to argue with her in his own garden. “What is it you need, ma’am?”
“I am Desdemona Henley.”
“Oh. Now that you mention it, yes, I see that you are. The veil on your hat is concealing your face.”
“I am Jasper’s wife. I am Lord Middlebury’s wife.”
“Well, you were for ten years, but as I explained to him, you’re not any longer.”
“Jasper was content to meekly allow you to steal what is ours. I, however, don’t intend to be quite so obliging.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’ll have my lawyer contact you.”
“I am Desdemona Henley.” She repeated her name as if he hadn’t been listening. “I am Lady Middlebury. I want you to remember that. I want it to be the last words you ever hear.”
Before he realized her purpose, her hand slid from under her cloak, and he was stunned to discover that she was clutching a pistol. With no hesitation or warning, she fired it! Just like that! If she’d been any closer, the dastardly shrew might have killed him. As it was, she’d managed to inflict a bit of damage. His arm was bleeding, and she’d ruined a perfectly good shirt.
The force of the blast had sent her staggering back. Her bonnet flew sideways, and she was off balance. She’d used her one shot, and she was fumbling about, probably to retrieve a second pistol to finish the job.
He was so enraged that he was amazed he didn’t murder her. He was carrying all his usual weapons and could have easily slain her, but he didn’t.
In three quick strides, he narrowed the distance between them. She was spinning toward him again, the barrel of another gun visible. He grabbed her wrist and yanked it away, tossing it off into the grass.
At being prevented in her attack, she was livid, and she grappled like a demon, clawing with her nails and wrestling to escape. She was a big woman who was spurred by wrath, and when she butted his chin with her forehead, he’d had enough.
He punched her hard, knocking her to her knees, but she came up fighting, so he punched her again, and she fell to the ground and stayed there. He dropped onto her, his weight pressing her down. She was out of control, as manic as a lunatic in an asylum. She was kicking her feet, bucking her hips, cursing him and his descendants for all eternity.
“Desdemona, stop it!” he commanded.
“I’ll kill you, I swear!”
“You won’t kill me. You can’t. Now stop it!”
“Jasper was too much of a coward, but I’m not!”
Will and Tom must have heard the blast, and they raced around the corner of the manor.
“Tom, bring a rope!” he called. “Will, help me.”
Will dashed over, his eyes wide at observing the unhinged harridan writhing and scrapping and Hayden holding her in place.
“Who is she?” he asked Hayden.
“She was Lady Middlebury.”
“Your cousin Jasper’s wife?”
“Yes.”
“She tried to shoot you?”
“Yes, twice.”
Will pointed to Hayden’s injured arm. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s a scratch. Go fetch your father. I think he’s in the house.”
Will hurried off, and Hayden dawdled, waiting for Robert and staring out across the park, pondering how he’d landed himself in such a bizarre predicament. After he’d quarreled with Jasper, he’d scarcely thought about him again. He certainly hadn’t considered Desdemona. He was barely acquainted with her and viewed the situation as being between himself and Jasper.
Clearly, her attitude about it was much different from his.
“If you promise to calm down,” he said, “I’ll let you up.”
She didn’t respond, and he loosened his grip. The instant he did, she started brawling. He sighed with aggravation and pressed her down even more firmly.
“For pity’s sake, Desdemona,” he scolded. “What is wrong with you?”
“I hate you! You can’t take what is ours.”
“I already have, so all this fury is ridiculous.”
“I’ll get even. You assume Jasper is incompetent, and he is. He is! But I’m not. You’ll see how dangerous I can be!”
“Please be silent. You’ve exhausted my patience.”
“Bastard!”
“There’s no need to denigrate my mother. My parents were definitely married.”
“Cur! Dog! Swine!”
Tom rushed up, a rope slung over his shoulder and a kerchief around his neck.
Hayden gestured to the kerchief. “Give me that.”
Tom handed it over, and Hayden stuffed it in her mouth to gag her. She retched and fumed but couldn’t dislodge it.
Finally, Will ran up, Robert hot on his heels.
“What the hell…?” Robert muttered. He scowled at Hayden’s shirt. “Will told me you’d been shot, but I didn’t believe him.”
“It’s a scratch,” Hayden claimed, and it was, but he was incredibly irritated. He’d been distracted over Helen, and his lack of concentration had nearly resulted in catastrophe.
“I can’t leave you alone for two seconds,” Robert chided. He nodded at Desdemona. “Who is that?”
“It’s Desdemona Henley. The prior Countess of Middlebury.”
At his use of the word prior, she began wrestling again, and she was spewing epithets, but with her gagged, they were muted.
“She’s Jasper’s wife?” Robert asked.
“Yes.”
“And she tried to kill you?”
“She tried, but she didn’t succeed.”
“I take it your cousin wasn’t too keen on you coming back from the dead.”
“I don’t know his opinion, but his wife isn’t too enthusiastic about it.”
Robert flashed a stern glower at Hayden. It was a look of ire and reprimand, but of alarm too. They’d both survived too many perilous incidents in their lives, and it would be the ultimate irony if Hayden perished now that he was home.
Hayden grinned and shrugged. He had no excuse for his deficient focus, for his failure to check for hazards. Yet who could have guessed that his cousin’s wife would sneak up with murder in mind?
Robert grabbed a knife from his belt and sliced the rope into a few shorter pieces. They tied Desdemona’s wrists, then stood her on her feet. Hayden yanked her cloak away, and Robert patted his palms across her body, searching for other weapons.
To Hayden’s surprise, they found a third pistol, as well as a dagger tucked into her boot.
“No doubt about it,” Robert said as he pitched the dagger into the grass, “she was serious.”
Hayden pointed to his wound. “I was fairly sure she wasn’t playing games.”
“How far away was she standing?”
“Too far to cause any real damage.”
“Lucky for you.”
They wrapped more of the rope around her so her limbs were bound to her sides. She glared at them, her hatred wafting out, and she was a pathetic sight. Her nose was bleeding, her eyes swelling from when he’d punched her. Her dress was ripped and stained, her face smudged with dirt.
“What shall I do with her?” Robert asked.
“I won’t have her in my house.”
“Shall we haul her before the magistrate? Shall we have her jailed? We can easily convince him she’s dangerous.”
Though Hayden had insisted his wound wasn’t bad—and it truly wasn’t—the whole event had sickened him. He was dizzy and woozy from being shot, and as always after a violent episode, he was excessively fatigued once it was over.
He simply wanted to sit down and have a whiskey. He wanted to pull Helen onto his lap and have her tell him he would be all right. At the moment, with his temper flaring and his exhaustion extreme, he was in no mood to figure out the best ending for a very deranged Desdemona Henley.
“For now,” he said, “take her to the stables and lock her in a stall. Will, can you watch her for me?”
“With pleasure.” The young man had his own knife on his belt, and he was a brawler. He’d have no trouble with her.
“Tom,” Robert said, “go with your brother. If she grows unruly, come get me, but don’t leave her by herself. One of you must stay with her.”
She was belligerent and unrepentant, and Hayden forced her to look at him as he told her, “Tonight, you’ll sleep in my barn like the animal you are. Then tomorrow, I will personally escort you to your husband.”
She growled a comment that sounded like, Sod off, you prig!
“I will explain to Jasper that I will furnish a monetary settlement to him to allay his fiscal situation.” He leaned down so they were eye to eye, “But I will also explain that if I ever see you again, if you’re ever within ten miles of my location, he won’t receive a farthing from me.”
She hurled a few other invectives behind her gag.
“We’ll learn if your husband can control you,” Hayden warned, “and if you refuse to heed him, if you instigate further mischief, you and your husband can wallow in poverty and live in a ditch. I’d prefer that conclusion.”
He gestured to Will to lead her away, but she planted her feet and wouldn’t budge. She continued to grumble and rant, and Hayden couldn’t abide her presence another minute.
“Robert, help him, would you? Get her out of my sight.”
“Where will you be?” Robert asked.
“I’ll have Helen clean my arm, and she’s probably in the kitchen.”
“I’ll find you. She’s hatched a harebrained scheme, and you should be apprised of the details. I’m positive you’ll put a stop to it.”
“It seems a day for women to act crazy.”
Hayden whipped away, and while he could hear Desdemona stomping and snarling, he didn’t glance back.
He was desperate to be at Helen’s side where she could remove his shirt and wash his wound. Her sweet disposition would flow over him, and he required her brand of solace now more than ever.
He went in the rear of the house, but she wasn’t in the kitchen, so he began searching for her. He was eager to tell her about her demented cousin, but he was also eager for her to feel sorry for him, to make a fuss.
Since he’d joined her in her bed, he’d been ignoring her, but why had he?
He marched through the halls, and as he approached the foyer, she was speaking to someone in the main parlor.
Guests! Dammit!
He couldn’t bear to chat, and he definitely wasn’t in a satisfactory condition. He most especially couldn’t have her distracted with playing hostess to a visitor. He yearned to have her undivided attention focused on him and nowhere else.
“At first, you might be a tad shocked,” she was saying, “but you have to remember that this is important. For everyone in your family—and his.”
* * * *
“Thank you for coming so quickly.”
As Alex Wallace strutted into the front parlor, Helen tried to be amiable.
“Who are you?” he snottily asked.
“I am Helen Barnes. Desdemona Henley is my cousin. I’ve been working as her housekeeper.”
“Where is Lord Middlebury?”
“Ah…outside?”
“Could you fetch him? I received a letter from him, demanding I travel here immediately. I have no idea why I obliged him, and I’d like this meeting to be over with as rapidly as possible.”
“I’ll send someone to look for him. In the meantime, may I offer you a refreshment? You must have had a long ride.”
“I don’t need a refreshment. I need to talk to Middlebury.”
There was a second man with him, and he said, “I’d enjoy a brandy if you have one.”
“Of course.”
Since they had no butler, she poured it for him. When she brought it over, he smiled, appearing cordial and kind. “You didn’t have to wait on me. If I’d known you had to do it yourself, I could have poured my own.”
“It was no bother. We’re short of staff at the moment.”
“There were no servants to tend our horses when we arrived.”
“Yes, we had an…upheaval recently. Many people quit.”
“It must have been quite an upheaval.”
“It was. I’m Helen Barnes.”
“I’m Christopher Stanton.” He glared over at Mr. Wallace. “If Alex had any manners, we’d already have been introduced.”
“Sit, please.”
“I will.” She gestured to a nearby chair, and as he plopped down, he scolded Mr. Wallace. “Sit down too, Alex. If you pace, you’ll wear out the rug.”
Mr. Wallace eased himself down on the sofa. He was studying the dilapidated room.
“This place has gone to Hell in a hand basket,” he muttered.
“It has seen better days,” Helen said, “but Lord Middlebury is implementing numerous improvements.”
“I hope so. My wife would be so upset by this deterioration.”
“Your…wife?” she cautiously said. “I thought your wedding was in two weeks.”
“Abigail and I have been married for months. We used a Special License, but I told her she could have a grand celebration later on. We’re simply repeating the vows at my local church.”
“That’s lovely,” she murmured.
She wondered what Hayden would think of the news. He assumed the wedding was still pending and wasn’t aware that Mr. Wallace was part of the family.
She turned to Mr. Stanton. “How are you acquainted with Mr. Wallace?”
“I’m his brother-in-law.”
Helen’s jaw dropped, and she slammed it shut. “Are you wed to a Henley sister?”
“Yes, to Catherine.”
So Hayden had two brothers-in-law in his front parlor, and suddenly, she wasn’t sure she’d decided on the best route when she’d lured Mr. Wallace to the property. She was saved from mentally debating the issue by her father strolling in. Both men stood to greet him.
“This is my father, Simon Barnes.”
“Simon Barnes?” Mr. Wallace mused. “Where have I heard that name? I seem to recall a disgraced preacher whose name was similar.”
“It’s not him,” Helen hastily insisted. She flashed a visual warning to Simon to be silent about his past. “Father, this is Mr. Alex Wallace from Wallace Downs and his brother-in-law, Mr. Stanton. He’s married to Catherine Henley.”
“Oh, my, isn’t that…interesting,” Simon said. “Doesn’t she have a third sister as well? Sarah, I believe.”
“Yes, Sarah,” Mr. Stanton replied.
“Where is she? Lord Middlebury has been curious.”
“She’s at Wallace Downs. She and Nicholas.”
“Nicholas is…?”
“Her husband.”
“All three sisters are married and together?”
“Yes.”
“How splendid.” Her father added, “I’m certain Lord Middlebury will be ecstatic.”
They all sat again, Helen too, and she scrutinized Mr. Wallace. He was very handsome, very tough-looking in a proud and dangerous way. But his face was marked by worry lines, as if he’d experienced many hard years. With his arrogant stature and bearing, he resembled Hayden exactly.
On her finally setting eyes on him, she could absolutely comprehend why the men would have dueled. Neither was the sort to tolerate a slight. Neither was the sort to back down from a quarrel.
“I have to tell you something,” Helen said to him. “Mr. Stanton too. I have some news to share that I’m guessing will surprise you very much. In fact, I’m betting it will astonish you—and your wives.”
“Really?” Mr. Wallace scoffed. “What is it?”
“I’ve been eager for this meeting, even though I wasn’t positive of what the result would be.”
“If Middlebury is his usual thick-headed self, the result will be that I won’t stay long.”
“I’m predicting you’ll find Lord Middlebury very changed.”
“I doubt it. He’s generally renowned as a dullard and a dunce.” He smirked. “After I leave, you can apprise him of my opinion. I don’t mind.”
“I realize he’s had a bad reputation, but you’ll understand in a minute.”
“Yes, Miss Barnes, we’ll understand. Could we get on with it?”
“Honestly, Alex,” Mr. Stanton chided, “your manners have flown out the window. Stop being an ass.”
“I hate it here, and I won’t pretend he hasn’t been awful to Abigail and Catherine. He’ll be lucky if I don’t pound him into the ground. I’ve always wanted to.”
Helen blanched with dismay. “No one is pounding anyone, Mr. Wallace.”
“We’ll see about that,” he said like a threat.
Mr. Stanton butted in. “I agree with you, Miss Barnes, that we shouldn’t bicker, but could you locate Lord Middlebury? It’s not wise for us to tarry.”
“Yes, I’ll locate him.”
Should she simply usher Hayden in with no warning? Or should she dawdle and provide an explanation of what was about to occur? She stared at her father, seeking his guidance, but before he could supply any, Hayden was marching down the hall.
She smiled wanly. “Here is Lord Middlebury now.”
“It’s about time he showed his sorry self,” Mr. Wallace sneered.
“Promise me you’ll remain calm.”
“I’m very, very calm, Miss Barnes, but if he utters a derogatory word about my wife, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
“He won’t utter a derogatory comment about her. I can guarantee you that.”
“He better not.”
“At first, you might be a tad shocked, but you have to remember that this is important. For everyone in your family—and his.”
Hayden stomped in. He was heavily armed, toting all his standard weapons so he might have been a bandit or highwayman. He was also blond and bronzed and magnificent as ever. Except that his shirt was covered with blood, the sleeve ripped away as if he’d been in a brawl and might have been stabbed.
“Helen”—he rudely ignored their company—“I have to talk to you.”
She was across the room and blocking Mr. Wallace from his view. She scowled, not quite able to process what she was witnessing. “What happened to you?”
“Your cousin, Desdemona, shot me.”
She bit down a squeal of alarm. “Desdemona shot you?”
“Yes, but I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“I am.”
“Where is she?”
“Robert is dealing with her out in the garden.”
“Has she gone mad?”
“Very likely.”
“Should I speak to her for you?”
“No. I need you to assist me. Are you busy?” he asked, even though he could clearly see that she was.
“Well, yes, I can attend you. First though, I’d like to introduce you to someone.”
“Can’t it wait?” His aggravation was obvious. “I’m a mess, and I should wash and have you bandage my wound.”
“This will only take a minute. Or probably more than a minute, but come here, would you?”
He didn’t move, and she sighed and walked over to him instead. She led him to the sofa.
“You have to meet him,” she said. “Actually, I believe you’re already acquainted.”
Hayden peered at the man, frowned, then dropped onto the nearest chair.
Mr. Wallace gasped, and she didn’t think it was because of the sight of all that blood.