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“Are they just rumors, then? Goodness knows I don’t take a word that falls from theton’s lips as sacred truth. For all I know, Lord Hawke is positively saintly.”
“He’s hardly saintly, I assure you. Some scandal or other drove him out of London.” She’d expected Abby would have heard from her sister before now with a full accounting of the latest gossip regarding Lord Hawke, but as the days passed, whatever had landed him at Hawke’s Run mattered less and less to her. “I can’t say what it was, though, or whether or not it’s true.”
Juliet snorted. “Likely not, or at the very least it’s not as bad as the gossips make it out to be. Does he realize you’re one of the infamous Templeton sisters?”
“I don’t think so, no. If he has heard the gossip about us, he hasn’t yet connected it to me.” Which was odd, really, given he’d just come from town, and half thetonwas still buzzing about the wicked Templeton sisters who’d tricked two of London’s most eligible earls into marriage with their clever matchmaking schemes.
Or so thetonwould have it. Half the ladies in London wanted to scratch her sisters’ eyes out. The other half wanted to know how they’d done it, so they might trap husbands of their own, but of course, there was no trick to it, no trap. Lord Melrose had fallen madly in love with Emmeline, and Lord Cross with Juliet.
It was simply love, and that was all.
“Well, it’s lucky he hasn’t figured out who you are, though he’s likely to work it out at some point. What’s he like?” Juliet leaned forward, her eyes dancing. “I do hope at leastsomeof the rumors about him are true! He’s said to be extraordinarily handsome, and extraordinarily wicked, and one does tend to be fascinated by a handsome, wicked earl, doesn’t one?”
“He’s…” Goodness, how did one even begin to describe Lord Hawke? “He’s certainly one of those things,” she muttered, more to herself than Juliet.
“For pity’s sake, Helena, you’re a dreadful tease!” Juliet set her teacup in the saucer. “Which one is it? Is he handsome, or wicked?”
“He isn’t wicked.” Thetonmight whisper all they liked about him, but nothing on earth could persuade her he was wicked. Confused, yes. Heartbroken, certainly.
But wicked? No. He wasn’t that.
“Ah, he’s as handsome as rumor says, then! But I’m surprised to hear you say he’s not wicked, dearest, given what you’ve said of him in the past about his shameful neglect of his boys.”
She had thought him shameful at one time, hadn’t she? Shameful and selfish. Yet it seemed a long time ago that she’d believed that about him, despite his only having been at Hawke’s Run for one week. Everything had changed so drastically since then! “That was when I believed he kept away because he preferred debauchery to fatherhood.”
“That’s not the case, then? I must say I’m relieved at it, Helena. One doesn’t like to think of those naughty, wonderful boys without a proper father.”
“No. His wife died, and I think…I think he was heartbroken, Juliet, and for a long while couldn’t bear to be at Hawke’s Run.” This was pure speculation on her part, of course. She didn’t know much about the late Lady Hawke, but since Lord Hawke’s return, Mrs. Norris had made a few comments that indicated it was something of that nature.
“Oh, dear. That’s terribly sad. Lady Hawke must have been quite young when she died.”
“She was.” Young and beautiful, if the portrait of her that hung in the gallery was an accurate representation. “Her death was sudden and unexpected. A fever, Mrs. Norris said.”
Juliet sighed. “I see. I’m very sorry for Lord Hawke, then. Grief does make people behave unlike themselves, doesn’t it?”
They were both quiet for a moment, and Helena knew they were each thinking of their own father, who’d passed away the previous year, after their mother had abandoned them all and fled to the Continent with her lover. She’d died there, and less than two years later their father had followed her to the grave, his heart broken. They’d lost him to his grief, and she couldn’t bear to see the same thing happen to Ryan and Etienne.
“What sort of father is Lord Hawke?” Juliet asked. “I can’t imagine he doesn’t dote on those boys.”
“He does, but he’s cautious with them, and uncertain. He’s been gone long enough that he no longer knows how to interact with them, but hewantsto, Juliet.” She met her sister’s eyes. “He loves them very much, and they adore him.”
“Well, one can’t ask for more than that, can one? As long as they love each other, it can’t help but come right in the end. Yet you still seem troubled, Helena. Is there something else?”
The truth was right there on the edge of her lips, and goodness knew if she could confide her troubles to anyone, it was Juliet. Yet still she hesitated. It was just…well, it was all just so ridiculous, like something out of a romantic novel.
How could she possibly look her sister in the eyes and admit that when she saw Lord Hawke making his lonely way across the frozen stable yard in the dark every morning her heart shuddered in her chest, as if it might break? How could she tell her sister his touch made her burn? Or describe the fierce love he had for his boys, and confess that it made her wish for that love for herself, and for things that could never be?
She was far too sensible a lady to imagine any good could ever come of such absurd fantasies. Lord Hawke was anearl. Her two elder sisters might be countesses now, but their marriages had been utter flukes, not to mention uproariousscandals. Thetonstill whispered that Emmeline and Juliet had fed their husbands some sort of magic love potion, for pity’s sake. If anything, the Templetons were even more notorious now than they’d been before her sisters married.
Lord Hawke wasn’t going to marry his sons’ scandalous governess. Really, it was so entirely out of the question, there didn’t seem much point in even mentioning it, so she swallowed the flood of words, and shook her head. “No, there’s nothing, dearest. I just worry about the boys, as you know.”
“I do know.” Juliet was quiet for a while, seemingly lost in her own thoughts, but then she asked, “Do you suppose Lord Hawke intends to remain in Oxfordshire with his sons this time, or will he return to London?”
“I wish I knew. I think he wants to stay, but nothing’s certain at this point.”
“It would be just as well if hedidstay.” Juliet avoided Helena’s eyes. “Now more than ever.”
Helena raised an eyebrow at that cryptic comment. “What doesthatmean? Come, Juliet, what’s the matter? You’re acting strange.”