Chapter 21 #2
Quite suddenly, I did not wish to lie to her anymore. She was the only person who had been genuinely kind to me since I’d left London, and she did not deserve this deception.
“Though I must admit I have not been honest with you since our first meeting,” I said quietly.
Helen pulled her chin back. “Pardon?”
“Miss Lacey,” Mrs. Rawlings hissed at me.
Helen turned to stare at her aunt. “What did you call her?”
Mrs. Rawlings looked stunned, mouth agape as she stared back. Oh, what irony, that Mrs. Rawlings should be the one to spoil our great charade.
“My name,” I said. “My real name: Beatrice Lacey.”
Helen shook her head, entirely baffled. “I am terribly confused.”
“I would be surprised if you were not.” I clasped my hands in my lap, unaccountably nervous. “I am sorry for it and for lying. But the ruse was necessary.”
“It is still necessary,” Mrs. Rawlings said shortly.
“I think not,” I said. “The perpetrator will soon be identified, and I think there is little danger in telling the one person we both trust entirely.”
“Telling me what?” Helen looked exasperated, glancing between the two of us. “What on earth is going on?”
I took a deep breath. “I am not truly Mrs. Rawlings’s companion. It was simply a cover we invented to explain my presence here at Briarstone.”
Helen blinked but said nothing.
“In London, before we came here, Mr. Rawlings and I were attacked by a brutal criminal, a murderer,” I said.
“During the brawl, I saw the man’s face, though he escaped.
It quickly became clear that I was in danger and could not remain in the city.
Mr. Rawlings brought me here to keep me safe.
We created this story so as to keep my true identity hidden. ”
“Oh!” Understanding began to dawn in Helen’s eyes. “Oh, my dear, I am so sorry.” She took my hand, pressing it into both of hers. “What a horrible thing! How afraid you must be.”
“At times,” I admitted. “When I allow myself to think too long.”
“Is that why Alexander returned to London?” she pressed. “Something to do with this man?”
I nodded. “We received word this morning that Bow Street has arrested the man they believe attacked us. Mr. Rawlings has gone to identify him, and then he will come back for me.”
“Thank heavens for that,” Helen breathed.
“Yes indeed.” I squeezed her hand. “I hope you will forgive me for deceiving you. It was only ever intended to protect all of us.”
Helen shook her head fiercely. “No, I understand. And I would be foolish to hold it against you. In truth, it makes a great deal of sense.” She raised her brows as if just realizing something. “That is why Alexander did not want you to go to the assembly at first.”
“Yes, and why he forced us to leave early,” I said apologetically. “He claimed I was drawing too much attention to myself.”
“I daresay he was not entirely wrong,” she said. “You did make something of an impression. But not nearly so much as he did when you danced together.”
Mrs. Rawlings huffed. “Alexander never dances.”
“Oh, he most certainly did this time,” Helen confirmed. “The town has been positively ablaze with gossip about the two of you.”
“About us?” I blinked.
“Yes,” she said. “All the young ladies are terribly heartbroken.”
“Why should they be?” Mrs. Rawlings’s face was pinched.
Helen finally seemed to notice that Mrs. Rawlings was not particularly thrilled that gossip had linked Alexander to me, especially in regard to a dance. “I’m sorry,” she said, glancing warily between us. “I did not mean—”
“Why should the ladies be heartbroken, Helen?” Mrs. Rawlings repeated.
“Because . . .” Helen coughed slightly. “Because Alexander seemed to show Beatrice a very special . . . favor.”
I had to bite my lip, though I wasn’t quite certain if I was withholding a grimace or a grin. Mrs. Rawlings was only just coming to tolerate me. She would not like hearing this, that Alexander had singled me out so publicly.
I braved a glance at her. She sat quite still, lips pressed together.
“I see,” she said finally.
“It was just a dance,” I hurried to say. “One that I forced upon him. He was angry, that is all. I’m certain his emotions were interpreted in quite the wrong way.”
Although I knew very well they hadn’t been. Not if this morning’s kiss was any indication.
“I see,” Mrs. Rawlings said again, more tightly. Then she stood and walked over to where Elijah was setting out his toy soldiers, clearly needing a moment away from us.
Helen cleared her throat. “I am sorry. I did not intend to cause any trouble.”
“Yes, thank you for that.” I sighed. “I was just starting to make the smallest progress with her.”
“I do not know why she is shocked.” Helen kept her voice low. “The way Alexander looks at you is far from subtle.”
My pulse sped up. “I do not know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do,” she said with narrowed eyes.
A smile fought to claim my lips. I turned away so Mrs. Rawlings could not see. “Very well,” I said. “Perhaps I do know.”
“Good,” she said. “I was beginning to think you were either extremely oblivious or deeply in denial.” She leaned forward, suddenly eager. “Are the two of you engaged?”
I nearly choked. “Engaged?”
“I think it a fair question.”
“No, indeed we are not,” I managed, shooting another glance at Mrs. Rawlings. She seemed not to have heard my response. “It is nothing like that. It is . . .”
Except I did not even know what was between Alexander and me. We had no arrangement, no understanding. All we had was ten days’ worth of stolen moments and conversations and that beautiful, scorching kiss in the study.
“I’m quite certain we both feel something for each other,” I said softly. “But the future is so unsettled at present. He’s never spoken to me about it.”
“Of course he would not,” she said. “He is a man and, thus, terribly vexing in every way.”
I laughed, surprised that I could feel such lightness amid this conversation. “In that, you are correct.”
Her smile faded, and she regarded me more seriously. “I know that Alexander’s walls can be difficult to breach,” she said. “Even as a child, he kept to himself. But he is different with you.”
I could hardly breathe. Did she really mean that?
“Do you know what I said to him the night of the assembly?” she asked. “When you returned me home?”
I remembered now that they’d exchanged a few low words, impossible to hear, as he’d helped her from the carriage.
“No,” I said, my stomach suddenly in knots.
“I told him, ‘That woman is in love with you.’” She smiled softly. “And he said, ‘I do not think I will ever be so fortunate.’”
Heavens.
Heat rushed to my cheeks. I touched them unconsciously, staring at her. “He said that?”
“No, I invented it because I am a scheming matchmaker,” she said wryly. “Yes, he said it.”
I could find no response, my tongue unable to form words. Helen simply patted my hand.
“I’ll leave it there for the moment,” she said. “I can see I’ve interfered enough already. But know I would be more than happy to see this entire adventure end with the both of you at the altar.” She touched my shoulder as she stood, going to join Elijah and Mrs. Rawlings.
I watched in a strange sort of stupor, my heart aching. I hadn’t dared imagine before now what might come of this . . . this . . . situation between Alexander and me. But now.
Now hope bloomed inside me—beautiful, fragile, terrifying hope. And I wanted nothing more than to see what might come of it.