Page 115 of The Matrimonial Advertisement

A pang of sadness caught her unaware. “No, Netherby. I won’t be back. I’ve only come to see my uncle and then I’ll be on my way.” She permitted the butler to take her hat and gloves, but she didn’t remove her paletot. There was a distinct chill in the air. “Where is he?”

“In his study, ma’am. Shall I announce you?”

“No need.” She straightened her skirts and raised a hand to smooth her hair as she walked down the hall to the room that had, in years past, been her father’s study and then her brother’s. She didn’t bother knocking before opening the polished wood-paneled door.

Uncle Edward was sitting behind his desk. He was a portly gentleman, gone fleshy from drink and indulgence. His graying hair was slicked with fragrant pomade, his side-whiskers worn long almost to his chin. A ruby stick-pin glittered in the folds of his cravat, blinking as he turned his head this way and that, removing papers from drawers and shuffling things about atop the desk. As he did so, a sheaf of tradesman’s bills toppled over, fluttering to the floor.

He looked up, then, and saw her. His face went hard.

“Uncle,” she said.

He stood. “Helena.”

The familiar fear trickled through her veins. She reminded herself that Justin was right outside, prepared to come to her aid should it be necessary. The knowledge gave her an extra jolt of courage. Enough that she was able to remain outwardly calm as she walked slowly to the desk.

Uncle Edward’s eyes darted to the door. “Where is this husband of yours I’ve been hearing so much about? Isn’t he with you?”

“He’s waiting for me in the carriage.” she said. “Along with Lord Wolverton.”

“Wolverton? The man’s an infernal busybody. If I discover he’s behind the tripe in this morning’s paper—”

“You’ve read it? I did wonder.” A paper wafted down at Helena’s feet. She bent to retrieve it. “Your affairs appear to be somewhat in disarray.”

He snatched the paper from her hand. “My affairs!” he sputtered. “You’ve announced to the world that I’m as good as bankrupt. You’ve libeled me. Slandered my good name. I’m ruined in London because of you. I’ve no choice now but to retire to the country.”

“Permanently?”

“Oh, you’ll not be rid of me that easily. I’ll be consulting my attorneys in Hampshire, you may depend upon it. They’ll bring suit. They’ll force a retraction. And they’ll shut down that damned fool newspaper. Mark my words.”

She lifted her brows. “Will they really? My attorney has informed me that truth is an absolute defense to libel. And everything I told the newspaper was the truth. If you bring suit, you’ll only prolong the scandal—and add to your humiliation.”

His eyes flared with anger. “You greedy little witch. What need have you of all that money? All you had to do was sign the blasted paper. I’d have taken care of you. You’d have wanted for nothing. But no. You must have it all to yourself. You would not be content until you’d ruined my good name, and yours along with it.”

Helena placed her hands on the edge of his desk. “You know all about greed, Uncle. You would have seen me die in an asylum in order to take my brother’s fortune.”

“Don’t be absurd,” he scoffed. “You know I’d never have gone through with it in the end. All I wanted was your signature. Had you given it, all that other nonsense would have stopped.”

A rush of anger swept through her. “All that other nonsense left me black and blue all over. It left me chilled to the heart from ice baths and burned on my arms and legs from electrical shocks. It wasn’t nonsense. It was systematic torture.”

“It was legitimate medicine.” His expression turned mulish. “But I would have put a stop to it if you’d done as I asked.”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

“You should have believed me. You should have trusted me.”

“You gave me no good cause.”

“Poppycock! Haven’t I always been kind to you? Generous?”

She didn’t dispute the fact. Indeed, the generous gifts he’d brought her as a child were the only fond memories she had of her uncle. “Papa never wanted you to bring me gifts. I always thought he was being stern. Unfair. But that wasn’t it at all, was it? He knew you had a problem with money. He knew you’d fritter your last penny away if left unchecked. Just as you would have done with Giles’ fortune.”

Uncle Edward’s face reddened. “Giles is dead! He’s been dead this year and more. What proof do you need? His rotting bones delivered to you in a velvet-lined box?”

His words flayed her like a whip. For an instant, she was tempted to turn and flee. Instead, she gripped the edge of his desk and leaned closer. “Giles may well be dead. But what right did that give you to do the things you did to me?”

“Every right.” Uncle Edward drew himself up tall. “I am Castleton now. The family is in my charge. It was my duty to seek treatment for you. To see you made well again. And that is what I shall say to anyone who has the temerity to ask.”

Her heart thumped wildly. “And I shall continue to tell them just what an unscrupulous blackguard you are. I shall keep telling them until you’re expelled from your clubs. Until no hostess will receive you anywhere.”