Chapter 34
When Helena woke, it took her a moment to remember where she was. Her body was sore. Her face hurt from spending most of the night crying. And there was a tiny body wrapped around her that was warm and comforting.
She blinked herself awake, a smile curving her lips when she looked down to see Daniel sound asleep beside her. That was when she remembered what had happened and where she was.
Helena had not meant to ride to the orphanage last evening.
In truth, she hadn’t meant to ride anywhere.
But she had been so upset and heartbroken, unable to stand being anywhere near Sebastian, that she pushed her horse as hard as she could, riding it at full speed until she found herself on the outskirts of London.
It was almost subconscious, the way she led the horse to the one place where she knew she would feel safe. Perhaps her parents’ home would have been a better option, but she could not face having to explain to them why she left her husband and what happened between them. Lies on top of lies…
She was just so sick of it all.
So, she steered her horse through the streets of London and soon found herself outside the orphanage. It was late in the evening by then, so she slunk inside, crept to Daniel’s bed, whispered to him that she was there to check on him, and climbed into bed and drifted off to sleep.
The young boy still slept peacefully, a smile on his face, safe and protected in ways she could only dream of. She thought to wake him, but knew that was a bad idea. How could she explain what she was doing?
She did not even have an answer to that question.
The warehouse was still silent, most of the children fast asleep, and Helena came to a decision. She could not avoid her husband. She could not leave him either. Not yet, anyhow. All she could do was get through this marriage until he decided it was time for them to go their separate ways.
It would hurt to do. The next few weeks would be some of the worst of her life. But this wasn’t about her. It was about the children, and if her suffering resulted in each of them being saved, then that was a small price to pay.
So it was that she slipped out of the bed and slowly slunk across the warehouse toward the exit.
She was stiff and sore as she stepped outside. Hungry too. Her mind was foggy. And try as she might, she could not keep it from drifting back to the previous evening and the fight she had with Sebastian.
It is done, at least. No more wondering. No more questioning everything. He told me the truth of it, and now all there is to do is accept that truth and move on.
Move on to what?
If only she knew.
“Good morning, Your Grace!” a voice called to her.
Helena took a second to see who had spoken. Light shone in her eyes, her vision was blurred, and she looked around the empty street as if she imagined hearing her name spoken. But then she saw the carriage parked just down the road, and then she saw who stood beside it.
“You!” she gasped.
“Yes, me.” Mr. Ramsay wore a smile that spoke of extreme happiness, and his beady eyes sparkled in the morning sun. He waved as he walked toward her, a skip in his step and laughter in his voice. “I am sure this comes as quite a surprise.”
“What do you want?” Helena sneered.
“Just to talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you.” She curled her lip and then turned around to search for her horse. She had tied it to a post the previous evening, but couldn’t quite remember where.
“Quite likely,” Mr. Ramsay agreed. “But I have much to say to you.”
She ignored him, her stomach churning as she searched for her horse.
Did someone take it? Did it run off? What on earth was going on?
“You won’t find it,” Mr. Ramsay told her.
“What?” She spun back.
“Your horse,” he said simply. “You won’t find it. I had one of my… employees take it earlier. Truly, that you thought to leave it out here unguarded… it is a wonder it hadn’t been stolen already. You really need to be more careful.”
“You…”
Helena’s eyes flicked over the little man, seeing on his visage a look she remembered well from the last time they met. A coldness spread through her body, the keen sense that something was wrong.
“Why would you do that?” she demanded. “What gives you the right?”
“Oh, I do not mean to offend,” Mr. Ramsay assured her. “I simply thought you might wish for a ride.” He gestured to his carriage with a sweep of his arm. “It is much safer that way. And far more comfortable.”
She scoffed. “I will be quite all right, thank you very much.”
“I must insist.”
“As I must insist that you leave at once.” She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “You do remember who my husband is, do you not? And how do you think he will react when he learns that you have been harassing me?”
Mr. Ramsay chuckled. “What do you think I wish to talk to you about?”
Helena started. “What… what does that mean?”
“Not here, Your Grace.” Again, he gestured to his carriage. “Somewhere more private.”
It was only then that Helena felt a pang of fear. The realization that she was alone, that Mr. Ramsay’s being here was not a coincidence, and that he was not the type to be messed with. A fact that she had already found out firsthand.
“I…” She took a step back. “Anything you wish to say to me, you can say it at my estate. With my husband present.”
“Your Grace…” Mr. Ramsay chuckled as if it were a joke. “This was not a request. Now, please, I insist you join me in the carriage.”
“And if I refuse?”
The humor vanished from his face, replaced by a cold glare that she felt like a dagger driven through her spine.
“That would not be wise…” As he spoke, his hand drifted to his coat, which he pulled back to reveal a pistol tucked into the waist of his pants.
Helena’s eyes widened. “What are you—”
“Not here,” he said. “Please.” He smiled and gestured a final time to the carriage. “After you.”
His hand stayed by the pistol, the implication clear. And while he smiled and chuckled in a friendly manner, Helena had no doubt now that there was nothing friendly about this.
She forced a smile, her heart thumping against her ribs like it meant to escape, as she walked past Mr. Ramsay and climbed into the small carriage. He was quick after her, closing the door and locking them inside.
“Ah, yes, much better,” he purred.
Helena pressed herself against the back of the carriage, as far from him as possible.
“What is this?” she demanded bravely, even if her voice cracked. “What do you want? My husband—”
“Brought this upon you, I am afraid,” Mr. Ramsay spoke over her. “In truth, I had no desire at all to see you involved. It would have been better for us all.”
“Involved?” She was shaking, her eyes flicking to his waist as if she could see the pistol beneath his coat. “Involved in what? What are you talking about?”
“I see that His Grace did not speak to you, after all,” Mr. Ramsay sighed. “I suppose that is not so surprising. My fault, really. I am entirely too trusting.”
“What are you—”
“Your husband is who’s to blame,” he snapped.
“The arrogant, self-serving, piece of filth not worth the title he flaunts as if he did anything to earn it!” He was shaking suddenly, anger burning in his eyes.
“And he is who I meant to hurt. All he had to do was do as I told him, and none of this would have happened. But he is selfish, caring only about himself. And now he leaves me no choice.”
“I don’t understand…” Helena scooted back, not liking at all how angry he was becoming.
“He thinks he can trick me,” Mr. Ramsay scoffed. “He really thinks I am so stupid! But he is the fool! He is the one who will suffer.”
“Mr. Ramsay, I do not know what you think my husband did, but I can assure you that—”
“I don’t want to hear it!” he cried. “I gave him a chance. All he had to do was play along. Your manuscript, your silence! And I would have left the two of you alone. Frankly, it was more than he deserved.”
“My manuscript…” Helena had no idea what he was talking about.
“But no, he could not even do that. So concerned is he about his image—the price of failure, as he sees it.” He laughed maniacally. “Now, he will lose everything.” His eyes flashed. “Everything.”
She swallowed. “Please, just tell me what… What do you need? If I can speak to my husband, perhaps I can help?”
“The time for speaking has passed,” Mr. Ramsay said. Then, he hammered his fist against the roof of the carriage, and it started to move.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere the Duke cannot find you,” he sneered.
“And once he realizes that, once I break him, I will make it known to all that he is as vile a creature as I see him. He will lose the orphanage. He will lose his marriage. He. Will. Lose!” he spat, his teeth bared, his eyes hungry for revenge.
“And only once he is on his knees, begging for mercy…” More laughter.
“Then and only then will I be satisfied.”
“Please….” Helena begged, her voice shaking. “You don’t have to do this. Let me talk to him. Let me—”
“I don’t want to do this,” Mr. Ramsay cut her off.
“The Duke forced this upon both of us, and now he will suffer the consequences. And, I am sad to say, so will you. Alas, that is the cost of doing business.” He sat back in the carriage and exhaled, calmness washing over him.
“I suggest you get comfortable, Your Grace. You will have quite a few days ahead of you.”