The Courtship (Sherbrooke Brides 5)

“Helen, you will stay with us,” Alexandra said.

“Then later, Miss Mayberry,” Lord Hobbs said, gave her a long look, and finally took himself off.

“You will not see Lord Hobbs alone,” Lord Beecham said, frowning after the man who had ice in his veins, not passion. “For some reason he intends to try to attach you. I will not allow that.”

“What do you mean ‘for some reason’? What am I, a troll?”

“Trolls are really quite small. No, don’t turn your cannon on me. I meant nothing. It merely came out of my mouth that way. You won’t ever be alone with him. I insist upon that, Helen.”

“For heaven’s sake, Spenser, who cares?” Helen jumped up and waved her fist in his face. “You are worried about Lord Hobbs when everything is falling apart around us?” She smote her forehead with her palm. “I can’t believe I let you distract me with all this troll business. Reverend Mathers is dead, all because of that wretched scroll I found. He’s dead! What are we going to do?”

“You are hysterical, Helen,” Alexandra said in the voice of a Mother Superior. “Get a grip on yourself.”

Helen blinked, drew a deep breath, and pulled back her shoulders. She removed her bonnet and worked the thick blond tress of hair back into its plait. “There,” she said. “I am all together again.”

“Well done,” Lord Beecham said. “Tell us what has happened.”

He watched her jump up and begin pacing the drawing room. Long strides, long, strong legs. He saw those legs of hers so clearly, felt them squeezing tightly against his flanks, that he nearly fell to the floor in a swoon.

“Oh, goodness,” Helen shouted, “this is perfectly dreadful. A man murdered here in London, and no matter what you say, it is all my fault.”

Alexandra shouted back at her, “Helen, you are slipping again. Get ahold of yourself. You did not stab Reverend Mathers. An evil person did. It is not your fault.”

Lord Beecham, who had managed at the last moment not to swoon, walked to her and took her gloved hands into his. He looked into her eyes, as blue and rich as a summer sky. He felt her fear now, her anxiety, her disbelief. It was he who got hold of himself. This was serious business. He said, “It will be all right. Now, what happened at home?”

“Someone tried to break into Shugborough Hall. The thief would have succeeded if it hadn’t been for Flock. He has taken to roaming around all through the night, to prove to Teeny that he is heartbroken so that she will pity him and perhaps overlook the name issue.”

“Name issue?” Douglas said.

“Teeny Flock.”

“It sounds like a very small assembly of sheep,” Alexandra said.

“Would you prefer Teeny Nettle?” Lord Beecham said.

“A very small weed? No, both give one the shivers.”

“Exactly,” Helen said. “In any case, Flock was roaming about the house, trying to deepen the shadows beneath his eyes, no doubt, when he saw this figure trying to break in through the drawing room windows. He raised the alarm. The man got away, but it was a close thing. He would have stolen the scroll if Flock had not been there.”

Helen drew a very deep breath. “Our secret is out, Spenser.”

“It could have been a common thief, after the silver,” Douglas said.

“It is possible,” Helen said, “but I don’t think so. Common thieves wouldn’t come to Shugborough Hall. We have a reputation, you see.”

“I can only imagine,” Lord Beecham said. “I am sorry for this, Helen. Still, Flock saved the day. I hope Teeny is better disposed toward him?”

That made Helen grin. “She was mumbling beneath her breath about the utter embarrassment her future children would feel whenever they had to say their mother’s name.”

Douglas said, “No one really knows all that much about anything at this point. But the lure of hidden wealth is enough for many men to break into a house and murder a man of the Church.”

“And that means,” Alexandra said, “that someone discovered that Helen was involved and has moved very quickly.”

“I don’t like this at all,” Douglas said. “I am going to have my brawniest footman, Kelly, begin immediately to follow Lord Crowley.”

“I shall assign Crimshaw to Lord Crowley as well,” Lord Beecham said. “He was raised in the stews and is tougher than an old boot. This Bow Street Runner, Ezra Cave, we will tell him to hire two more men to follow Crowley.”

“I will see to this right away,” Douglas said and gave his hand to his wife. “You, my sweet, will come with me. I have this feeling that Heatherington and Helen here have a number of things to speak about.”