Chapter 12
Tristan thought of Helena's evident discomfort the previous afternoon, first in the sitting room and then again at the bookshop.
A distance had come between them somehow during the short course of their marriage, and he found himself troubled by the notion that she no longer seemed inclined to confide in him as she once had.
Looking around, he took in the promenade with mild tolerance.
Such outings, intended chiefly for display and the cultivation of acquaintances, had never held much appeal to him.
Helena had suggested the outing, and he knew it was expected that he escort Georgiana on those ventures, so he had agreed.
He stood idly waiting while Helena conversed with two ladies of her acquaintance and Georgiana, some distance away, spoke with a fair-haired gentleman.
He had not noticed precisely when she had left his side, but his attention focused on the back of the gentleman's head as he tried to determine who it was.
"Do you know that gentleman?" he asked once Helena returned to his side.
She followed his gaze. "Why, I am almost certain that is Lord Ravenscroft..." She paused as she watched the man lean closer to murmur something in Georgiana's ear. Georgiana smiled at him, and as he turned slightly, Helena caught his profile. "Indeed, it is."
Tristan frowned. Georgiana laughed softly at whatever Lord Ravenscroft said, though not with her usual bright spontaneity. Instead, she listened to Lord Ravenscroft with an attentiveness that seemed unlike her, paying little heed to those passing by around them.
"What on earth could they have to speak about? He is nearly twenty years her senior," Tristan muttered, showing his concern.
"Fifteen," Helena corrected. She shook her head. "Though, I confess I agree. Charlotte mentioned him yesterday on our walk, and the reports were not becoming of him."
Tristan glanced once more toward Georgiana before turning his full attention back to Helena. "What has Charlotte heard?"
"Well, she said he has lately been paying marked attention to a wealthy widow, though no one appears convinced his interest is entirely sincere.
There are also whispers that his finances are in a far worse state than society first supposed.
" Helena lowered her voice. "Some say he has neglected to pay his tradesmen, and that creditors have begun pressing him rather more openly than is comfortable. "
Tristan's expression darkened.
Helena continued, "Charlotte, naturally, recounted every detail with considerable satisfaction. I believe she thinks each fresh rumor a just reward for his conceit."
His gaze drifted once more toward Georgiana, who still appeared entirely engrossed in her conversation with the baron. "If even half of that is true," he said quietly, "I should prefer my sister sought acquaintances elsewhere."
“I daresay, I agree.” Helena stated.
Both watched as Georgiana turned and made her way back toward them. Lord Ravenscroft's gaze followed her departure before shifting to Tristan. He dipped his head in polite acknowledgement.
Tristan returned the greeting with a restrained nod, already resolved to guide Georgiana toward more appropriate acquaintances.
As they resumed their walk, Tristan expected Georgiana to speak of the baron. Instead, she asked Helena how she intended to spend the remainder of the day, as though the conversation had been of no consequence at all.
Once Helena declared herself satisfied that they had fulfilled their social obligations, they returned home. Georgiana spent the journey animatedly describing the card party she was to attend that evening with Beatrice and Charlotte at Lady Harcourt's estate.
It was Charlotte who had introduced the sisters to Lady Harcourt at Lady Winthrop's gathering several weeks earlier, and Georgiana had been counting the days until she might attend one of her infamous card parties.
Tristan found comfort in knowing Charlotte would accompany Beatrice and Georgiana. He also tried to ignore the satisfaction he felt when Helena remarked that she intended to remain at home that evening, preferring to spend the time drawing, when Georgiana asked her if she would join.
Upon arriving at the house, Oliver met them in the hall as the footmen relieved them of their coats, bonnets, and gloves. Wooden soldier in hand, he made straight for Helena.
"Mama is writing a letter to someone, and I've been terribly bored. I do not have a lesson for a little while longer, and my tutor has not yet arrived. Will you come and play with me for a bit?" Oliver asked.
"I would be delighted. Though I think we ought to go over your soldiers' rankings. I fear we left them rather muddled the last time I played with you." Taking his hand, Helena allowed him to lead her toward the morning room.
Tristan, intrigued, followed them. Behind him, a footman handed Georgiana a letter, which she glanced at before excusing herself and ascending to her chambers.
Tristan entered the morning room to find Beatrice writing at the small desk while Helena and Oliver were already debating the merits of the little wooden soldiers spread across the table.
"Then the captain still gives the orders?" Oliver asked, arranging the figures into formation.
"Exactly. The captain gives the orders, and the lieutenants see that the men carry them out," Helena replied as she drew out a chair beside him.
Tristan leaned against the doorframe. His solicitor would be arriving shortly for their meeting in the study, yet he found himself in no hurry to leave.
Oliver frowned thoughtfully at the little regiment before promoting one of the soldiers with complete confidence.
Helena accepted the decision with perfect seriousness, though Tristan caught the hint of a smile she tried to suppress.
At the writing desk, Beatrice looked up from her letter just long enough to watch them before returning to her correspondence.
Tristan remained by the doorway a moment longer. Since his father's illness, Blackmere had known one loss after another. There had been days when laughter seemed to have deserted the house altogether.
Oliver sat absorbed in his little regiment while Helena listened with complete seriousness to every promotion and objection.
A feeling of contentment filled him.
"My Lord, Mr. Fielding has arrived for your meeting," the butler said quietly at his side.
Tristan pushed himself away from the doorframe. "Thank you. Show him to the study."
“Of course, My Lord, and this just arrived for you.”
The letter he handed to Tristan bore Lord Ravenscroft's seal. His brow furrowed. Leaving it unopened, he carried it with him to the study, intending to read it once his meeting had concluded.
The meeting with his solicitor occupied the better part of the next hour. When at last Mr. Fielding departed and the study door closed behind him, Tristan reached for the letter and broke the seal.
He read it through before lowering the page with a slow shake of his head. The baron's audacity was remarkable. If he had resorted to writing such a letter, then there was surely some truth in what Charlotte had told Helena.
The contents of the letter were composed with every appearance of courtesy.
Beneath the careful phrasing, however, lay a plain message.
Lord Ravenscroft had not forgotten the fortune he believed had been denied him when Helena ended their engagement, nor was he a man inclined to let old grievances rest.
"Does the foolish man imagine I owe him some obligation when I had no hand in the broken engagement?" Tristan said aloud. "He must be desperate indeed."
Tristan joined the ladies in the drawing room for tea later that afternoon. Georgiana in particular, was in high spirits, her thoughts wholly occupied by Lady Harcourt's card party.
Having already selected three dresses before changing her mind entirely, she stood before the sofa holding up two gowns for comparison while Beatrice looked on with amused patience.
"The blue muslin," Helena said after a moment's consideration. "Lady Harcourt's drawing room is rather richly furnished. The pale green may lose itself against so much color, whereas the blue will suit the candlelight beautifully."
Georgiana looked down at the gowns before breaking into a smile. "I knew I ought to have asked you first."
"And what of Thursday?" Beatrice asked with a laugh. "You have already planned that assembly as well."
Georgiana immediately began calculating which gown ought to be reserved for which engagement, while Helena listened with good humor, offering the occasional suggestion. Tristan sat back with his tea, saying little, content simply to watch the conversation unfold.
"Do gentlemen discuss their coats and waistcoats as ladies do their gowns?" Oliver whispered up to Tristan after declaring that he liked Georgiana best in pink.
Tristan chuckled. "Some do. I have never found it particularly interesting. We shall see how you take to it one day."
Oliver considered his uncle’s reply. "If I wished for advice, would you give it to me, or laugh at me?"
"I should first ensure your valet possessed a respectable eye," Tristan replied, smiling. "After that, I should gladly offer my opinion, though I cannot promise I would not be a little amused."
By evening, the house had grown unusually peaceful. Beatrice and Georgiana had departed with Charlotte for Lady Harcourt's card party, while Oliver joined Tristan and Helena for dinner before retiring at his usual hour.
"Do you still mean to draw this evening?" Tristan inquired as they left the dining room together.
"Indeed, I do."
"I thought I might spend the evening in the library by the fire. I am endeavoring to finish a volume I have found rather dull." A faint smile touched his lips. "Would you care to join me?"
Helena returned his smile. "I should like that."